It was enough for him to repay his brother for his past gambling debts and still be set up for the future. There was also a monthly amount he would be paid to keep Whitney living the lifestyle she was accustomed to.
He blinked.
Once.
Twice.
It was the solution he’d been looking for.
And he hated the little voice inside his head that reminded him of how many games he could play in the hells for the amount of money that he would be coming into.
He shook his head, trying to get the voice to stop. He had vowed that the Lyon’s Den would be his last gamble, and he intended to, for once, stay true to his word.
Drinking the rest of his whisky in one long sip, he set the glass down and locked the letter in the top drawer of his desk.
It was too late to call on Whitney now. He would do so in the morning. After he slept off the whisky and bathed the smell of the gambling hell off of his body.
Tomorrow he would meet his wife. And he only hoped that she was pleasant enough in looks, stature, and personality. Someone he could see himself spending the rest of his days with.
Because like it or not, she was what his future held.
Chapter Ten
Whitney did notsleep a wink that night. She’d tried. Oh, how she tried, but she kept tossing and turning. Every time she closed her eyes, his handsome face would find her. It was as if he’d infiltrated all of her senses. Every fiber of her being. She’d done so much moving around she was afraid she would keep the house awake.
Finally, she threw back the covers and settled into the window seat of her bedroom and looked out into the starry night sky.
Was her future husband doing the same? Or was he sleeping like a babe as if he had no care in the world?
She still didn’t know his name. She supposed she would find out that information some time on the morrow.
She and her mother had waited up long past what was proper visiting hours last night before they both retired for the evening. It was silly really.
By the time they had returned home, the hour was already late. Much too late for a caller. Even if that caller was to be her husband.
When Rona knocked lightly on her door to wake her up, Whitney was sure her eyes were puffy along with dark circles showing under them. Rona would have to work miracles today to make her presentable for her caller.
“Miss, you are already awake?”
Whitney sighed. “Yes, alas, I couldn’t sleep. Who could if they were in my situation?”
Rona smiled. “It is a big day for you. Are you excited?”
“Yes, but I am not so sure my excitement is a good one, if that makes any sense.”
“I am sure it is just nerves, miss. Once you meet your suitor all will be well, I’m certain.”
Whitney laughed. “My suitor. You are funny, Rona. I will surely miss your sense of humor when I move.” Her demeanor immediately soured. She would miss living here. Miss her parents. Miss Rona. Her maid had been by her side for as long as she could remember.
The woman had been her only real friend since her salacious scandal scared the few so-called friends she’d had away.
“Come now,” Rona said as she went around the room, pulling open the drapes from the other windows and allowing the early morning light to fill the room. “There is no need for a dour mood. This is a good thing, is it not?”
Whitney sighed. “I suppose. But is it wrong for me to wish that it had happened naturally? What will people say when they learn our union manifested from a game of chance?” She knew what they would say—that her parents had to pay someone to spend time with her. That no one of right mind would attach themselves to her voluntarily.
Rona planted her fists on her hips as she regarded Whitney. “Since when do other’s opinions matter to you? You never let them bother you before, why should you start now?”
Whitney looked up to the ceiling, throwing her hands up in defeat. Rona was right. Shedidn’tcare what people thought of her. She’d stopped caring long ago when she realized how insincere everyone was.
