Page 30 of Earl, Enemy, Husband?

Her eyes widened in shock. ‘You discussed my sisters with Mrs Pole?’

‘It was she who approached me. I see nothing wrong with it. Primrose is a lovely girl but quite naïve, it seems to me. You would not have her spoiling her chances before she has had her season?’

She looked aghast. ‘Don’t you think that is a little high-handed? What right do you think you have to interfere? Surely it is for my father to—?’

‘Your father…’ He hesitated, not wanting to open old wounds, but really the man had done nothing to protect his oldest daughter. ‘Your father seems rather more interested in his books than his daughters. He might not see a problem even if it is under his nose.’

Her eyes narrowed. ‘Are you saying you think my sister is no better than she should be?’

He was surprised by her indignation. He had expected her to be pleased by his concern. ‘I am not saying anything of the sort. But why take a chance? I simply agreed to Mrs Pole’s offer to keep an eye on things. Indeed, as the vicar’s wife, she would see it as her duty for any of the single ladies in the parish.’

‘And did you not think to consult me?’ she asked in icy tones.

She crossed her arms beneath her breasts. He forced himself not to look at the enticing sight. He had not intended to start an argument, but was not a wife supposed to listen to her husband? He kept his irritation out of his voice.

‘I know that you want them to make good matches. That was why you agreed to this marriage. Any sort of scandal or innuendo would ruin their chances.’

She took a deep breath. ‘I will thank you to leave my sisters’ reputations and futures to me.’

Women. Who would ever understand them? He had expected her to be grateful for his interest. To hell with it. ‘If that is your wish, so be it.’

She eyed him suspiciously. ‘Very good.’

Silence fell. A stiff, uncomfortable silence.

This was not how he had envisaged his marriage. He had sort of expected a quiet, sensible female grateful he had rescued her sisters and her, not a stubborn, argumentative shrew.

It would not do. The horrors of his parents’ marriage rose up like a spectre. There had to be some way to guarantee peace between them.

‘Listen,’ he said.

She jumped as if she had forgotten his presence.

How bloody annoying. He reined in his temper. ‘I know neither of us particularly wanted this marriage, but we ought to be able to manage to remain civil.’ Unlike his parents.

‘I am perfectly civil,’ she said coldly. ‘It was you who rode roughshod.’

Roughshod. She made him sound like his father. He put up a hand. ‘Perhaps what is required is a simple understanding of our expectations.’

Dark brows lowered, she tilted her head on one side, clearly looking for some hidden agenda. ‘What do you mean, a simple understanding?’

The marriage vows had been simple enough, but they spoke of love, and their marriage was a more pragmatic arrangement.

He took a deep breath. ‘Marriage is a contract of sorts. Perhaps we could lay out some of the rules.’

‘Rule number one, my sisters are my business.’

‘Rule number one, before taking any action that impacts the other or their family, we discuss the matter.’

Her lips tightened for a second. ‘While your suggestion makes sense, if we disagree on the resolution, the law would take your side in any dispute.’

‘If your arguments are reasonable, I am sure you would persuade me.’

She shook her head. ‘There is no guarantee. No. Rule number one should be as I stated.’

Did he really care about what she decided for her sisters? He did not, unless it caused problems for him. ‘Very well, a compromise: rule number one; after discussion, your decision with respect to your sisters, until they are married of course, will prevail.’

‘Agreed.’