Page 33 of A Wallflower to Win the Viscount

Her smile quivered. Her heart fluttered in her chest.

Someone exactly like you.

‘Well, definitely not the Earl of Ashcombe,’ she blurted out as heat exploded on her cheeks. ‘But what about you? What I mean is, if I was trying to marry you off, what qualities should the young ladies I introduced you to possess?’ she asked, the words tumbling over each other as she desperately tried to move the conversation and her thoughts away from how, if she was seeking a husband, he would be exactly what she would be looking for.

‘I’m not intending on marrying, so it is a pointless question.’

‘I suppose it would have to be someone who abhors animals as much as you,’ she said, trying to keep her voice light.

‘I don’t abhor animals.’ He looked down at Clawdia, curled up at his feet. The cat lifted her head and meowed as if in agreement.

‘I suppose she’d have to possess beauty beyond compare.’ Primrose was starting to dislike this putative animal hater immensely. ‘She’d be the belle of every ball she attended. Her conversation would sparkle. She’d possess legendary wit, and her laughter would remind one of the tinkling of bells.’

Primrose’s stomach churned itself into tight knots. She attempted to smile at Lucian to prove she was still teasing but couldn’t get her pinched lips to do as they were told. Unlike Primrose, she was sure such a woman would have no problem attracting his interest.

‘You don’t particularly like this wife you’ve lined up for me, do you?’ he said, that glorious smile returning.

‘No, I think she’s frightful.’

Lucian laughed loudly. ‘Good. Then, I won’t marry her.’

Primrose also laughed, either in amusement or relief or at herself for getting caught up in such silliness.

‘It looks like we’re stuck with each other,’ she said, then immediately wished she had not.

‘So it would seem. Either that or I’m going to have to find someone who loves animals as much as you do to buy my father’s house. If such a person exists.’

His smile faded, and that more familiar look of grim consternation returned, as it always did when he talked of his city property.

‘Why do you want to sell your house so desperately?’ she asked quietly.

He sighed deeply. ‘It holds too many bad memories.’ He took a sip of his brandy, then stared down at the glass, his face becoming a mask, the sudden change in his expression akin to shutters closing.

Primrose knew what she was seeing was suffering, suffering he was trying to push away. She also knew from many years of dealing with mistreated animals that in such cases a gentle approach was best. If he wanted to tell her about those bad memories he would do so, if and when he was ready. As much as she wanted to know all about him and his past, and as much as she wanted to unravel the conundrum that was Lucian Montclair, she would not probe.

He released a long sigh, then smiled. After seeing his genuine smile earlier, Primrose could tell this one was forced. ‘But you have happy memories of this house, don’t you?’ he asked, obviously wanting to change the subject, just as she had when they’d talked of her finding a perfect husband.

If that was his wish, she would respect it.

‘Yes, this was somewhere I always felt loved and wanted for exactly who I was,’ she replied. ‘But, like you, I don’t have good memories of growing up on the Stonely estate, and that is somewhere I would never want to live again.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly. ‘Losing your parents at such a young age must have been very hard for you.’

‘Yes, it was. I went from a warm, loving family to one that was neither loving nor warm.’

‘Oh, Primrose, I am so sorry.’ He sat forward in his chair, and for a heart-stopping moment she thought he was going to take her in his arms and comfort her. Then he sat back, and she shrugged off such fanciful thinking.

‘But as the countess often reminded me, I should be grateful they took in an orphan and gave her every advantage in life.’

‘It was their duty to do so,’ he said, his voice firm. ‘Just as it is now your cousin’s duty to make sure you are well provided for and protected from what can sometimes be a harsh and threatening world for women.’

‘Hmm. I doubt if Cousin Jasper sees it that way.’

‘Well, he’s about to discover that even if he does not know where his duty lies, you are no longer that child he once bullied. As you said to me, you are a woman of independent means, and my solicitor is going to make sure you remain that way.’

Primrose liked the sound of that.

‘And your cousin will soon realise you are capable of standing up to him and fighting back.’