left to him by a distant relation. As a result, he was not particularly wealthy and likely could use the funds. She was surprised he hadn’t mentioned anything earlier this evening, but he was a taciturn sort, and perhaps he had not wished to pressure her.
Marrying him would be no hardship. He was a decent, honorable man, solid and steady. There was not a drop of romance between them, but certainly, there were worse choices among the peerage. Their children, should they have any, would likely be freakishly tall. Aside from that, she had little reason to object.
Except that she had other plans for her life. And she was watching them burn to ash in the fire of her father’s ambitions.
She swallowed hard, feeling those ashes searing her insides, rising to singe her throat. “You …” She swallowed again. “You said one year.”
He nodded, the deep crease between his red brows a black slash in the dimming light. “Agree to the marriage. Live with him for one year. Then, if you both wish to part ways, you may do as you like. No divorce or annulment. But you will be free to live as you please.”
Free to live as you please. One year, and you will be free. It was not what she had wanted, but neither was it the hopeless situation she had thought. She must wed someone she did not love, yes. But then she would be free. Being a married woman instead of a spinster might even prove beneficial as she built her businesses in America. Yes, this could actually work quite well, particularly if she negotiated better terms.
Sliding a glance at her father, who sat still and frowning behind his desk, she said, “He gains a large dowry, I presume.”
Her father nodded.
“Mmm.” She gave him the same smile she often gave Mr. Pegg. “And what do I receive in recompense?”
His chest puffed a bit. A good sign, in her estimation. “The damned title isn’t enough for you, girl?”
“I never wanted a title. Again, I ask, what do I receive?”
“What do you want?”
“My allowance for the year. Tripled.”
The chest that had inflated released a choking laugh like a bellows. “Balderdash.”
She sniffed. “Tripled, Papa. The entire sum at my sole disposal. No Mr. Pryor. No husband to put his hands upon it. Mine entirely.”
Shaking his head, Rowland Lancaster scoffed, “You would run off after the first payment.”
“Perhaps. That is the risk you take by behaving in this high-handed manner.”
“Double.”
“Triple.”
“And you will get it at the end of the year. A lump sum.”
“Triple, Papa. Then I shall agree to take it as a lump sum.”
His eyes narrowed on her, glinting in the firelight. “Done.”
Triumph swelled in her breast. She wanted to shout again, but this time, a resounding cheer. Triple her allowance was an absolute fortune. She could not only fully fund any business she desired, she could buy the largest, most unusual house in America to live in.
And she only had to marry James and be his wife for one tiny year. It was not ideal. Viola would be distraught, no doubt, and Charlotte’s heart ached for her friend. But if this was what Tannenbrook wanted, then the die had been cast. And he was a far better option than many gentlemen of the ton. Charlotte enjoyed his company. She was certain they would get on well, and she was glad his life would be made more comfortable with her dowry. When she considered everything she’d endured over the past five years, this bargain was not bad. Not bad at all.
Her smile must have been rather smug, because her father leaned forward and said, “Don’t you wish to know who your husband will be?”
“Oh, I’ve already guessed. How did you persuade Lord Tannenbrook to change his mind? When you spoke to him last, he was most adamant—”
“It is not Tannenbrook.”
Not … Oh, dear God. Her lips shaped the word “no,” but there was no breath behind it. When her air finally returned, she had only enough for one syllable: “Who?”
Rowland
Marrying him would be no hardship. He was a decent, honorable man, solid and steady. There was not a drop of romance between them, but certainly, there were worse choices among the peerage. Their children, should they have any, would likely be freakishly tall. Aside from that, she had little reason to object.
Except that she had other plans for her life. And she was watching them burn to ash in the fire of her father’s ambitions.
She swallowed hard, feeling those ashes searing her insides, rising to singe her throat. “You …” She swallowed again. “You said one year.”
He nodded, the deep crease between his red brows a black slash in the dimming light. “Agree to the marriage. Live with him for one year. Then, if you both wish to part ways, you may do as you like. No divorce or annulment. But you will be free to live as you please.”
Free to live as you please. One year, and you will be free. It was not what she had wanted, but neither was it the hopeless situation she had thought. She must wed someone she did not love, yes. But then she would be free. Being a married woman instead of a spinster might even prove beneficial as she built her businesses in America. Yes, this could actually work quite well, particularly if she negotiated better terms.
Sliding a glance at her father, who sat still and frowning behind his desk, she said, “He gains a large dowry, I presume.”
Her father nodded.
“Mmm.” She gave him the same smile she often gave Mr. Pegg. “And what do I receive in recompense?”
His chest puffed a bit. A good sign, in her estimation. “The damned title isn’t enough for you, girl?”
“I never wanted a title. Again, I ask, what do I receive?”
“What do you want?”
“My allowance for the year. Tripled.”
The chest that had inflated released a choking laugh like a bellows. “Balderdash.”
She sniffed. “Tripled, Papa. The entire sum at my sole disposal. No Mr. Pryor. No husband to put his hands upon it. Mine entirely.”
Shaking his head, Rowland Lancaster scoffed, “You would run off after the first payment.”
“Perhaps. That is the risk you take by behaving in this high-handed manner.”
“Double.”
“Triple.”
“And you will get it at the end of the year. A lump sum.”
“Triple, Papa. Then I shall agree to take it as a lump sum.”
His eyes narrowed on her, glinting in the firelight. “Done.”
Triumph swelled in her breast. She wanted to shout again, but this time, a resounding cheer. Triple her allowance was an absolute fortune. She could not only fully fund any business she desired, she could buy the largest, most unusual house in America to live in.
And she only had to marry James and be his wife for one tiny year. It was not ideal. Viola would be distraught, no doubt, and Charlotte’s heart ached for her friend. But if this was what Tannenbrook wanted, then the die had been cast. And he was a far better option than many gentlemen of the ton. Charlotte enjoyed his company. She was certain they would get on well, and she was glad his life would be made more comfortable with her dowry. When she considered everything she’d endured over the past five years, this bargain was not bad. Not bad at all.
Her smile must have been rather smug, because her father leaned forward and said, “Don’t you wish to know who your husband will be?”
“Oh, I’ve already guessed. How did you persuade Lord Tannenbrook to change his mind? When you spoke to him last, he was most adamant—”
“It is not Tannenbrook.”
Not … Oh, dear God. Her lips shaped the word “no,” but there was no breath behind it. When her air finally returned, she had only enough for one syllable: “Who?”
Rowland
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