Love With the Proper Husband by Victoria Alexander Page A

lord?” She waved toward the opening. “I believe our discussion is at an end.”
    “On the contrary, Miss Townsend, our discussion is just beginning,” he said mildly.
    “I don’t see that there is anything more to talk about. You asked me a question. I answered said question. Therefore”—she gestured once again, a bit more vehemently—“good day.”
    “A few minutes ago I thought it had become a very good day indeed. Now I see I was mistaken.”
    He strode past her to the door and closed it firmly.
    “What do you think you’re doing?” She straightened her shoulders and stared up at him, determined to stand her ground even if it left her entirely too close to him. “Open that door at once. It is not at all proper for us—”
    “For a woman who flits around London unaccompanied, I am surprised to hear that particular protest from you.”
    “I most certainly do not…” She paused. “If you are referring to our last meeting, I had a carriage waiting. Therefore I was not unaccompanied.”
    “There was no one with you when we met.” His pointed words belied his casual manner. He strolled past her as if he had nothing of significance on his mind beyond the perusal of Madame’s overly feminine parlor. “Regardless of how many carriages you had waiting, your behavior was most improper. Even scandalous.”
    “I would hardly call it scandalous. I am quite used to being unaccompanied.”
    “Perhaps in America such lack of decorum is acceptable,” he said coolly. “Here, however, it is not.”
    She resisted the urge to snap at him. “I scarcely think it matters. No one knows me here. My father was not active in society, and he died before I could have a season. I have been out of England for a considerable length of time, and only a handful of people in London are even aware of my existence. I have no family to shelter, no position to protect.”
    “Ah, but you soon will have. As the Countess of Pennington, you will have no end of social obligations and responsibilities, and through them all, your every move will be watched and remarked upon.” He picked up the figurine of an ugly pug dog and studied it. “In the beginning, of course, there will be a great deal of curiosity about you for the very reasons you have mentioned: in spite of your parentage, you are a virtual unknown. Friend and foe alike will be alert for any hint of impropriety, any modicum of inappropriate behavior.”
    She stared for a moment, then laughed in spite of herself. “Simply as a point of information, you should know my behavior is always impeccably proper. I pride myself on it. However, if you are trying to further your suit, this is not the way to do it. And it scarcely seems worth the effort, especially as I have no desire for position or—”
    “What of family?” He looked at her sharply. “Do you not want family of your own? A husband and children?”
    The sister she never knew and the nieces she’d never met immediately came to mind, and she pushed the thought firmly aside. She had not yet decided what, if anything, she should do in their regard, and as for children in general…“I am not particularly enamored of children, nor do they seem especially fond of me.”
    “Well, we do not have to have more than a handful,” he said blithely. “In truth, two will be sufficient, both male, of course.”
    “Of course.” She should have expected as much. In this he was no different from any other man with a title. “And no doubt they would be as stubborn as their father.” She crossed her arms over her chest and studied him. “I have turned down your ever so gracious proposal. An offer that absolved you of any further responsibility, as even the most stalwart advocate of arcane principles of honor would agree, yet you persist in believing a marriage between us is possible.”
    “Not merely possible”—he flashed her a knowing grin—“but inevitable.”
    “Nothing is inevitable, my lord, beyond the rise and set