Lady Luck or ladies of the night I will do everything in my power to see that you’re ruined.”
If the duke’s countenance had been stiff moments earlier, it was menacing now. John believed the duke wished him dead. His throat went as dry as burnt toast. “It is a very generous dowry, your grace, and I assure you I do not intend to squander it. It is true, though, that I have many creditors who will be most gleeful at the settling of their accounts.”
The duke was speaking to him in much the same way as Grandmere did. John stretched his memory to recall those things his grandmother always stressed when she summoned him for a good set-down. “I believe marriage to your fine sister will bring me a maturity I have heretofore lacked. I need to follow pursuits other than those which have contributed to my reputation as a . . .” He swallowed. “A rake.”
“I shall believe that when I see it,” Aldridge said, his voice like that of a stern father. He drew a deep breath, his dark gaze never leaving John’s. “I have other demands of you, demands that were not put in writing.”
Despite the fire, John felt as if ice water were seeping down his spine. “What kind of demands?”
“If I ever learn that you have not treated my sister with respect, I will ruin you. You will not ever hold her up to ridicule. No opera dancers. No week-long gaming or drinking binges. If you ever hurt her—physically or emotionally—I will chase you to the ends of the earth and do my best to kill you in a fair fight. Even if it means destroying the man my sister loves.”
John felt as if he’d just been slapped in the face. What the devil had he gotten himself into? Had he not wanted the lady’s dowry in order to pursue those very things of which the duke wished to deprive him? Good Lord, no opera dancers ? What gave that sanctimonious duke the right to dictate John’s behavior?
The two men glared at each other, their hostility palpable.
After several moments, the duke spoke. “I believe my demands are in harmony with those of your grandmother.”
John nodded.
“You are young still. Marriage and fatherhood can make a fine man of you—if you allow it.”
Fatherhood? Good Lord, he wasn’t planning to bed Lady Margaret! She wasn’t his type. Not in the least. She was not possessed of one of those voluptuous bodies he so admired.
After seeing the generous marriage contracts, John had come here today relatively content. But now he felt as if he were entering a prison designed to strip him of every pleasure life had to offer.
He’d never felt lower.
“If you are so greatly opposed to this marriage, your grace, perhaps you would wish to end it.” John lifted a hopeful brow.
A thundering expression came over the duke’s face. “I will never consent to anything so disagreeable, anything that would subject Margaret to notoriety. Of all my sisters, she is by far the most sensitive.”
A bloody sensitive female was the last thing in the world John wanted. “Very well, your grace.”
“You’re agreeing that you’ll be an exemplary husband?”
John’s stomach roiled. “I doubt I will ever be as exemplary a husband as Lord Haverstock or you, but your strong marriages will serve to guide me.” Again, he was proud that he had managed to answer without telling an outrageous falsehood.
Once more, the chamber went silent, the only sound the hissing of the fire. Then John recalled the duke's words. " Even if it means destroying the man my sister loves ." He was not sure which part of that sentence was the more distressing. The part about being destroyed by the powerful duke—or the part about Lady Margaret being in love with him.
Surely she could not be. They were complete strangers. It then occurred to him the lady had told her brother she was in love in order to sway him to placid acceptance of the marriage. John had to hand it to her. She was clever.
A pity he had never admired clever females.
"So," the duke finally
If the duke’s countenance had been stiff moments earlier, it was menacing now. John believed the duke wished him dead. His throat went as dry as burnt toast. “It is a very generous dowry, your grace, and I assure you I do not intend to squander it. It is true, though, that I have many creditors who will be most gleeful at the settling of their accounts.”
The duke was speaking to him in much the same way as Grandmere did. John stretched his memory to recall those things his grandmother always stressed when she summoned him for a good set-down. “I believe marriage to your fine sister will bring me a maturity I have heretofore lacked. I need to follow pursuits other than those which have contributed to my reputation as a . . .” He swallowed. “A rake.”
“I shall believe that when I see it,” Aldridge said, his voice like that of a stern father. He drew a deep breath, his dark gaze never leaving John’s. “I have other demands of you, demands that were not put in writing.”
Despite the fire, John felt as if ice water were seeping down his spine. “What kind of demands?”
“If I ever learn that you have not treated my sister with respect, I will ruin you. You will not ever hold her up to ridicule. No opera dancers. No week-long gaming or drinking binges. If you ever hurt her—physically or emotionally—I will chase you to the ends of the earth and do my best to kill you in a fair fight. Even if it means destroying the man my sister loves.”
John felt as if he’d just been slapped in the face. What the devil had he gotten himself into? Had he not wanted the lady’s dowry in order to pursue those very things of which the duke wished to deprive him? Good Lord, no opera dancers ? What gave that sanctimonious duke the right to dictate John’s behavior?
The two men glared at each other, their hostility palpable.
After several moments, the duke spoke. “I believe my demands are in harmony with those of your grandmother.”
John nodded.
“You are young still. Marriage and fatherhood can make a fine man of you—if you allow it.”
Fatherhood? Good Lord, he wasn’t planning to bed Lady Margaret! She wasn’t his type. Not in the least. She was not possessed of one of those voluptuous bodies he so admired.
After seeing the generous marriage contracts, John had come here today relatively content. But now he felt as if he were entering a prison designed to strip him of every pleasure life had to offer.
He’d never felt lower.
“If you are so greatly opposed to this marriage, your grace, perhaps you would wish to end it.” John lifted a hopeful brow.
A thundering expression came over the duke’s face. “I will never consent to anything so disagreeable, anything that would subject Margaret to notoriety. Of all my sisters, she is by far the most sensitive.”
A bloody sensitive female was the last thing in the world John wanted. “Very well, your grace.”
“You’re agreeing that you’ll be an exemplary husband?”
John’s stomach roiled. “I doubt I will ever be as exemplary a husband as Lord Haverstock or you, but your strong marriages will serve to guide me.” Again, he was proud that he had managed to answer without telling an outrageous falsehood.
Once more, the chamber went silent, the only sound the hissing of the fire. Then John recalled the duke's words. " Even if it means destroying the man my sister loves ." He was not sure which part of that sentence was the more distressing. The part about being destroyed by the powerful duke—or the part about Lady Margaret being in love with him.
Surely she could not be. They were complete strangers. It then occurred to him the lady had told her brother she was in love in order to sway him to placid acceptance of the marriage. John had to hand it to her. She was clever.
A pity he had never admired clever females.
"So," the duke finally
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