Page 12 of The Lyon’s Paw

She eyed him up and down, then nodded. “Very well. Proceed with your business arrangement, my lord.”

Gathering his courage, Geoffrey proceeded to lay out the plan he’d come up with over the past four days. “If we married immediately, your inheritance would be secured as per the conditions of your late uncle’s will. According to Mrs. Dove-Lyons, your inheritance totals thirty-thousand pounds per annum, is that correct?”

Miss Edgerton shot a glaring look at the hidden figure, but nodded. “Yes, that is the sum I will inherit. And I must inform you, before you go any further with your plan, I insist that settlements be drawn up leaving the bulk of the money intact and under my control.” She glanced at Geoffrey, then away and her cheeks pinkened. “I will, of course, offer a substantial monetary gift to my husband, which will compensate him for the funds he will not have access to during the marriage.” Raising her chin, she returned her gaze to Geoffrey. “I insist you agree to this stipulation, my lord, or there is nothing else to be said. I will not marry you or anyone otherwise.”

“Done.”

Miss Edgerton’s impossibly blue eyes widened and the color drained from her cheeks. “I beg your pardon?”

“I said I agree to that stipulation. Your money will remain under your control. If you had not insisted upon it, I would have. The money is not mine, other than your very generous ‘gift.’ But I shall find that gift more than sufficient, I assure you.”

“But how can you assert such a thing, my lord, when you do not know the amount of the gift I am offering?”

“Twenty-thousand pounds.”

Miss Edgerton’s mouth dropped open, accentuating her bow shaped lips. “What?”

“That is my price for marrying you, Miss Edgerton. A one-time ‘gift’ as you say, in exchange for helping you secure your inheritance.” Geoffrey grinned at last. He’d known that amount of money was far beyond what the lady would have offered of her own volition. But he’d have it or Miss Edgerton would have nothing.

“Twenty-thousand pounds!” The lady gazed at Geoffrey as though she believed him an inmate at Bedlam. “But that would leave me with only ten thousand pounds until next year when the interest renewed.”

Geoffrey didn’t want to antagonize the woman—at least not until they were legally married—but he couldn’t help his pointed stare at her gown, a serviceable garment to be sure, but not the first stare of fashion by any means. Certainly not the quality of the gown she’d worn in June. Why wasn’t she dressed better now? “Have you been accustomed to managing on more than ten thousand a year before now, Miss Edgerton?”

The glare of animosity she leveled at him might have made him shiver under other circumstances. However, Geoffrey understood he was in the game of his life, one he had to win at all costs. And against a most worthy adversary.

“No.” She spit the word out as though she hoped it would wound him, preferably in the heart.

“I didn’t think so. Therefore, we will be able to live very comfortably until your funds become available again next year. Once my estates become profitable again, we will have even more income to help with the running of the households.” Geoffrey had relaxed at last, breathing easier now he knew he’d be able to pay Dandridge off. Joanna was safe.

“I did not mean ‘no, I haven’t had ten thousand a year,’ my lord, although of course I have not.” There was no look of triumph on Miss Edgerton’s face, merely an effort to set him straight about her answer. “I meant ‘no, I will not marry you.’”

Chapter Five

“Diana!” Aunt Frances spun toward her so quickly, she had to grasp the chair Diana sat in to keep her balance. “What are you saying? If you do not marry Lord Longford—”

“I will lose the inheritance, yes, aunt, I do know that.” She turned her gaze from Aunt France’s shocked face to Lord Longford’s sober one. “I also know that marriage is forever. And it has occurred to me that I do not wish to be married to Lord Longford for what might be a very long time by the look of him.” She cast an appraising eye over him. The gentleman looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties, and a finer specimen of a healthy man Diana could not imagine. He towered over her, broad shoulders that seemed to extend far beyond the normal range, a tapered waist, and long straight legs. The man could live for decades.

“I cannot argue with that, Miss Edgerton.” The cast of Lord Longford’s face remained somber. “The men in my family tend to live well into their seventies, the exception being my father who died in a riding accident before he reached his fiftieth birthday.” The gentleman shrugged. “You could wager that I too will come to grief at an untimely premature age.” He frowned, then his brow smoothed. “That is why you were so concerned with Sir Harry. At his advanced age, you were willing to wager you’d be a widow in rather quick order.”

If Diana wasn’t going to marry Lord Longford—and at this juncture she could not see herself agreeing to be bound to this man for thirty minutes, much less thirty years—she might as well speak frankly with him. “Another business arrangement, my lord. But one that I would not spend a lifetime regretting.” She leaned toward the man, hoping to make him see sense. “Can you truly see yourself being married to me for any length of time? Considering the ill will between us since June?”

“I don’t suppose you’d entertain the idea of living on separate estates?” Lord Longford looked doubtful even as he spoke. “No one would think anything of it. It’s often done in Society.”

“That isn’t a bad idea, my dear.” Aunt Frances leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Once married you’d never have to see one another again.”

“Until Lord Longford needed an heir.”

Her aunt jerked upright, her face flooding with color.

“You are correct in that, Miss Edgerton.” Lord Longford’s face had taken on a grim aspect. “At some time—not too distant I’m afraid—I will need to produce an heir.” He sighed. “I assume such a duty would be out of the question for you.”

Diana hesitated. When first they’d met, she would have jumped at the chance to be his wife. Before the incident in the park, he’d seemed too good to be true. Unfortunately, that had turned out to be the case. “Yes, it would be.” The idea of taking the man with the unbridled temper into her bed made her shiver—and not in a good way. “I am sorry, but I have to tell you I cannot see myself ever submitting to such an intimacy with you.”

“I understand.” To give him credit, Lord Longford didn’t harden his voice, didn’t look daggers at her, or try in any way to persuade her things might be different at some time in the future. He knew as well as she they weren’t likely to change their opinions about one another.

Such a pity he was the only man who’d even entertained the idea of marrying her. Curse her cousins for making her a pariah in society. Her lips began to tremble, but she bit them, refusing to succumb to self-pity. She was quite literally making the bed she would lie in for the rest of her life—and it could not be beside Lord Longford.

“There is another option, Miss Edgerton, my lord.” Mrs. Dove-Lyon spoke for the first time in a very long while. “You could divorce Lord Longford.”