Pretty Persuasion by Olivia Kingsley Page A

a folded document from his pocket and held it up. It carried her father's seal. "This is a sworn statement, signed and witnessed, testifying that if you marry Lord Rossemore, your parents will abrogate your dowry and disinherit you."
    She tried to disbelieve it but couldn't ignore the nagging voice that told her she might have underestimated the extent of their disapproval. Frantically, she blurted, "It doesn't matter. We do not need my dowry. We shall still be married."
    She didn't realize her mistake until Robert's brows shot up. "
Shall
be?"
    Behind the kerchief, Phillip muttered a curse. Should she try to cover her slip with another lie? No, it was pointless. She gave Robert her most powerful glare. "By preventing it, you'll only delay the inevitable."
    To her surprise—and irritation—he actually flashed a smile. It did not reach his eyes. "Rest easy, Georgie. Now that you are aware of the risk involved, I am not going to stand in your way. Indeed, I intend to see that you go through with it." He turned to Phillip. "I assume the ceremony is to be performed tonight?"
    Rossemore hesitated, and Robert clenched his hand around the sword's handle. He had counted on the bastard's mercenary motives when he started taking liberties with the truth. It looked like his gamble might actually pay off. Why, then, was there a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach?
    The fool cleared his throat, removing the bloodied kerchief from his nose. "Since you do not intend to stop us, there's no hurry." He paused. "I should like to see the document."
    Robert had expected that, and he had an excuse chopped, cooked, and ready to serve. "I'd rather not. It was entrusted to me, and I do not take such obligation lightly. I give you my word as a gentleman that it is what I say."
    Surprisingly, he spoke the words without qualm. His years away had certainly made him uncivilized, if he could so easily swear upon his honor and lie in the same breath. It had been a harsh lesson to realize that it was occasionally best to reach an end no matter the means.
    "I would see it nonetheless," Rossemore said.
    "Why?" Georgie interrupted, her forehead puckered.
    Her lover's face twisted with frustration. "Because I do not trust his word."
    "But what does it matter? We shall find out if it is true when we return to town." Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, her tone hardening as she added, "Why must you know
now
?"
    A frown creased Rossemore's forehead beneath his dandified, blond locks of hair. He cast an uneasy glance about, and Robert could all but hear the bastard's mind churning. A seed of doubt had been planted, one that Rossemore could not be rid of without showing his hand.
    "My dear, you are tired from the journey. I am thinking only of your comfort. We'll speak of it later." Rossemore's veneer was damnably convincing as he moved to seize Georgie's hand. Tamping down the urge to growl at the sight, Robert gripped the sword's smooth wooden handle so hard he half expected it to splinter.
    "I am not that tired," Georgie said. "We shall speak of it now."
    "There are circumstances of which you do not know," Rossemore ventured cautiously.
    "What circumstances?" she demanded, her voice rising.
    Rossemore looked frustrated and torn. "I am not so very reduced, but enough so that—" He made a helpless gesture. "—enough so that, without your dowry, there is cause for concern."
    Georgie blinked. "But you have a prosperous estate. You have several carriages and a town house. What…?" At Rossemore's wince, she trailed off.
    "My estate has not been profitable for years," he admitted. "The carriages—all borrowed from acquaintances. And there is no house."
    Georgie paled and snatched her hand away. If the bastard had slapped her, she couldn't have looked more stricken. Robert wished she wouldn't wear her heart on her sleeve for the entire world to see.
    "Why did you not tell me?" she asked, and when Rossemore wavered, her eyes grew big. After a moment, she said flatly,