better.”
“The earl will mellow. Give him time.”
Colin looked at her with blue eyes that reminded her of his father, cold and ruthless. “I don’t need his approval to see Lady Roanna.”
“Oh, but you do,” Daisy cautioned. “There are rules about that sort of thing in England.”
“I’m not an Englishman,” Colin reminded her.
“No,” Daisy said, “I suppose you’re not.” But he might become one if Daisy married the duke and father and son remained in England. She could imagine what Nicholas would have to say about a society that rejected his son because of his birth.Even more to the point, she wondered how the local English gentry were going to greet Nicholas, the prodigal bastard son. Daisy supposed the duke’s case was somewhat different, because he had been born in the parish. And there had never been any proof he was a bastard, only rumors and gossip.
Daisy and Colin rode the rest of the way in silence. Daisy didn’t regret her visit to Priss. The countess had forced her to see she had few alternatives if she hoped to save Severn Manor.
Plainly, she would have to marry His Grace.
Daisy fought the rosy heat that raced to her cheeks as she realized what that would mean. She would have to lie with the duke and allow him to make love to her. Daisy found the thought as frightening as it was thrilling. It would be far safer to ask for a marriage of convenience. But she had no real hope the duke would agree to it.
Ashamed as she was to admit it, maybe marriage to the duke wasn’t going to be such a sacrifice after all.
4
Nicholas sat behind the Sheraton desk in the library with Phipps on the other side. The solicitor was explaining something about the estate. Nicholas was listening, but he didn’t hear a word Phipps said. His mind was totally occupied with Daisy Windermere, or rather, with memories of their confrontation that morning.
He shouldn’t have kissed her. It had complicated everything. Not that it hadn’t been a gratifying experience. In fact, he couldn’t remember a time when he had been so devastated by a kiss. The feel of her defiant little mouth under his, as it softened and yielded, had aroused him beyond rational thought. He had taken liberties with her that were far from acceptable. But she had been right about one thing. He was no gentleman. He had little use for women, and none at all for ladies.
She had gumption, he would give her that. And grit, too. He would have enjoyed taking her to bed. Not that there was much chance of that happening. He imagined all that spit and fire between the sheets, and his body responded accordingly. Heshifted and leaned forward at the desk, forcing his mind back to what the solicitor was saying.
“So I’m afraid you’re not going to be able to find a buyer for Severn Manor in the immediate future. At least not at a price equal to its worth.”
“What?” Nicholas exclaimed. “After you’ve gotten me here on the pretext of all the wealth to be had from Severn Manor, are you saying I won’t be able to sell this place?”
“Not unless you can make it a more profitable undertaking, Your Grace.”
Nicholas wished he had been paying attention. “Why isn’t it profitable now?”
The look on the solicitor’s face made it plain he had already explained the matter. He tugged at his waistcoat and dutifully began again, speaking more slowly, as though that would aid Nicholas in understanding the problem the second time it was presented to him.
“To be frank,” Phipps said, “competition from American wheat has depressed prices in England. Since your property is planted primarily in wheat, it’s worth less to a potential buyer.”
“So we plant something else,” Nicholas said. “Something worth more on the market.”
“That’s not as easy as it sounds, Your Grace.”
“Why not?”
“You would need the cooperation of your tenants. You would have to supply them with information about planting and tending crops with which
“The earl will mellow. Give him time.”
Colin looked at her with blue eyes that reminded her of his father, cold and ruthless. “I don’t need his approval to see Lady Roanna.”
“Oh, but you do,” Daisy cautioned. “There are rules about that sort of thing in England.”
“I’m not an Englishman,” Colin reminded her.
“No,” Daisy said, “I suppose you’re not.” But he might become one if Daisy married the duke and father and son remained in England. She could imagine what Nicholas would have to say about a society that rejected his son because of his birth.Even more to the point, she wondered how the local English gentry were going to greet Nicholas, the prodigal bastard son. Daisy supposed the duke’s case was somewhat different, because he had been born in the parish. And there had never been any proof he was a bastard, only rumors and gossip.
Daisy and Colin rode the rest of the way in silence. Daisy didn’t regret her visit to Priss. The countess had forced her to see she had few alternatives if she hoped to save Severn Manor.
Plainly, she would have to marry His Grace.
Daisy fought the rosy heat that raced to her cheeks as she realized what that would mean. She would have to lie with the duke and allow him to make love to her. Daisy found the thought as frightening as it was thrilling. It would be far safer to ask for a marriage of convenience. But she had no real hope the duke would agree to it.
Ashamed as she was to admit it, maybe marriage to the duke wasn’t going to be such a sacrifice after all.
4
Nicholas sat behind the Sheraton desk in the library with Phipps on the other side. The solicitor was explaining something about the estate. Nicholas was listening, but he didn’t hear a word Phipps said. His mind was totally occupied with Daisy Windermere, or rather, with memories of their confrontation that morning.
He shouldn’t have kissed her. It had complicated everything. Not that it hadn’t been a gratifying experience. In fact, he couldn’t remember a time when he had been so devastated by a kiss. The feel of her defiant little mouth under his, as it softened and yielded, had aroused him beyond rational thought. He had taken liberties with her that were far from acceptable. But she had been right about one thing. He was no gentleman. He had little use for women, and none at all for ladies.
She had gumption, he would give her that. And grit, too. He would have enjoyed taking her to bed. Not that there was much chance of that happening. He imagined all that spit and fire between the sheets, and his body responded accordingly. Heshifted and leaned forward at the desk, forcing his mind back to what the solicitor was saying.
“So I’m afraid you’re not going to be able to find a buyer for Severn Manor in the immediate future. At least not at a price equal to its worth.”
“What?” Nicholas exclaimed. “After you’ve gotten me here on the pretext of all the wealth to be had from Severn Manor, are you saying I won’t be able to sell this place?”
“Not unless you can make it a more profitable undertaking, Your Grace.”
Nicholas wished he had been paying attention. “Why isn’t it profitable now?”
The look on the solicitor’s face made it plain he had already explained the matter. He tugged at his waistcoat and dutifully began again, speaking more slowly, as though that would aid Nicholas in understanding the problem the second time it was presented to him.
“To be frank,” Phipps said, “competition from American wheat has depressed prices in England. Since your property is planted primarily in wheat, it’s worth less to a potential buyer.”
“So we plant something else,” Nicholas said. “Something worth more on the market.”
“That’s not as easy as it sounds, Your Grace.”
“Why not?”
“You would need the cooperation of your tenants. You would have to supply them with information about planting and tending crops with which
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