Marguerite Kaye - The Earl's Countess Of Convenience

He burst out laughing. ‘All there, and in good condition. You sound as if you are inspecting a horse with a view to buying it.’

He had a very attractive laugh. Relieved beyond measure, Eloise relaxed a little. ‘But that is precisely what we are doing, in a manner of speaking, aren’t we? I hadn’t thought—I mean, I was looking forward—but then this morning it occurred to me that it would be—well, it’s very awkward. You’re looking me over and I’m looking you over, and for the life of me, I can’t understand, now you are here—I beg your pardon, but I think the twins—my sisters—have a point. A man like you, surely there must be women queuing up to be your wife?’ She stopped abruptly. ‘Sorry. You must think I am an idiot, but you are so silent I feel compelled to fill the gaps.’

‘I tend to say something when I have something to say.’

‘Does that mean you think I’m a wittering fool or don’t you have an answer to my question? Or perhaps you think I oughtn’t to have asked it, though I must say, I do think it a pertinent question, my lord.’

She would not speak. She would sit here without uttering another word until he answered. Eloise bit her lip. She would not count the seconds. She folded her arms. She unfolded them. ‘I don’t mean literally queuing, my lord, I meant...’

‘I understood you perfectly, Miss Brannagh. Would you mind calling me Alexander? When you “my lord” me, it makes me want to look over my shoulder for my brother, Walter.’

‘You would not be here, if your brother were still alive.’

‘I wish to heaven that he was.’ He coloured. ‘Forgive me, I meant no offence, but I think it is best that we are candid with each other from the outset. I had no ambition to be either an earl or a husband. The truth is, I am obliged to be both.’

‘Well! The truth is, I would rather not be married either. At least—I would rather not be married ,’ Eloise added hurriedly. Lord Fearnoch—Alexander—smiled. His smile lit up his eyes, and it acted on Eloise like a punch in the stomach. Their eyes met, and something very odd seemed to pass between them that made her cheeks heat in a way that had nothing to do with embarrassment. ‘If you understand my meaning,’ she added.

He nodded, breaking eye contact, smoothing the palms of his hands over his pantaloons. Was he nervous? Already regretting his decision to come here? Fortunately, before she could voice this fear, Alexander cleared his throat. ‘I think it would be a good idea for us to learn a little about one another before we launch into the business which brought me here. As you will know from my letter to Lady Elmswood, time is of the essence.’

‘I understand that you must marry before your thirtieth birthday or forfeit your inheritance.’

‘And it is a very large inheritance, though I’m not particularly interested in it for my own sake. I am aware that sounds disingenuous, but it happens to be the truth.’

She couldn’t say what it was that made her believe him, but she did. ‘Why, then, are you interested—no, that cannot be the right word, for you are sacrificing your bachelorhood to inherit, so you must have more at stake than an interest in inheriting?’

He smiled faintly. ‘Very well, let us say that I think it is my duty to marry. No, since you insist on being precise, let me rephrase that. My conscience tells me that I must marry.’

‘Why?’

Alexander did not answer her directly. ‘I had no expectations of inheriting. My brother’s untimely death, and his lack of foresight in providing an heir, have come as a most unwelcome surprise.’

He spoke lightly, but his eyes spoke of a different, more brittle emotion. ‘Your brother had no children, then? But he must have been married to have inherited, since the entail—I’m sorry if this is a painful subject to you, your brother has not even been dead a year, but...’

‘My brother and I were not close.’ Alexander’s mouth thinned in the brief silence which followed this interjection. ‘There are—were—eight years between us. We were raised very differently. Walter, as the heir in waiting, was fully aware of the terms of the entail, and married shortly after he came of age. His wife died in childbirth along with their son about five years later. The entail did not require Walter to remarry, but I never doubted he would. As a quintessential Fearnoch male, he would have been keen to maintain the proud patriarchal tradition of passing the title directly from father to son—a tradition which his sudden death has put an end to. Unfortunately, the conditions of the entail remain in force, which means I must now marry if I am to become the Eighth Earl.’

‘What happens if you choose not to?’

‘My cousin Raymond Sinclair will inherit. Unlike me, he has always had an avaricious eye on the title, and duly took the precaution of arming himself with a bride prior to his own thirtieth birthday. Raymond is an inveterate gambler. It would only be a matter of time before he brought the Fearnoch lands and the people who make their living from them to rack and ruin. Most of the Fearnoch estates are in Lancashire. Aside from the many tenanted farms, I understand that substantial seams of coal have recently been discovered. Mining coal is extremely lucrative, but can also be extremely dangerous. I fear my cousin would have far more regard for profit than safety.’

‘Good grief, yes. I have read some truly dreadful stories about men being trapped—and not only men, but young boys. And they use children too, to sort the coal. It is an outrage.’

‘Precisely my own views.’ Alexander smiled thinly. ‘I wish to ensure that any mining is done responsibly. I wish to ensure that the profit from the estates continues to be ploughed back—you’ll forgive the pun—into the land. My father and late brother cared little for running the estates. Simply put, both were ardent libertines. It is a trait which all Sinclair men have embraced and propagated over the years, and of which they have all been inordinately proud. Needless to say, it is a proclivity that I do not share. However, the estate manager is, I gather, an excellent man, whose family have run the Fearnoch lands for generations.’

‘Like Kate,’ Eloise exclaimed. ‘That is exactly why she married my uncle—because her father was the estate manager here, and Daniel was never interested, and Kate loves Elmswood Manor and—and so you see, I do understand why it is important to you to do what is right.’

‘Thank you. There is one other factor which is pertinent to my decision.’ Alexander shifted in his chair, frowning. ‘If you will bear with me. It is not my habit to discuss such personal matters. It does not come easy to me, but under the circumstances, I think it vital that you fully understand my motives for wishing to make this unconventional match.’

Her instinct was to reach over, to touch him reassuringly, but she caught herself just in time. ‘It can’t be easy, to be so painfully honest to a complete stranger. Please, take your time.’

‘The matter concerns my mother’s settlement which I discovered to be woefully inadequate.’

‘Your mother! But she is a dowager countess. Your father was a very rich man. Surely when she married him, your mother’s parents would have ensured her jointure reflected her circumstances.’

‘I have no idea what the original arrangements were. The were amended in the Sixth Earl’s will.’

‘The Sixth Earl being your father?’

‘Her husband. The amended settlement which my mother was granted on his death would be insulting if it were not frankly punitive.’

‘Punitive! What on earth can she possibly have done to deserve such shabby treatment?’

Alexander’s fingers dug into the arms of the chair. ‘The reasons are less pertinent than the net effect, which is that the terms would force my mother to rely upon the goodwill and generosity of others in order to survive. I will not have her reduced to such penury.’