Marguerite Kaye - The Earl's Countess Of Convenience

‘But your father died almost three years ago. Surely your brother...’

‘My brother provided for her, while he was alive, by installing her in the Dower House on the Lancashire estates. Whether he intended to amend the provision made for her at some point is another question that must remain unanswered for ever. The fact is that he did not, and my personal circumstances do not allow me to supplement the paltry allowance to what I consider an appropriate level.’

‘And if your cousin, Raymond Sinclair, inherited? No, I suppose from what you’ve said that you could not trust him to do right by her.’

‘Precisely. You understand now, Miss Brannagh, why I believe it is my duty to marry?’

‘I do and I think your reasons are extremely laudable.’ Though he had not explained why he was so averse to marriage in the first place. Perhaps his Admiralty career rewarded him insufficiently to maintain a household—but he didn’t dress like a man on the breadline. He was the son of an earl, albeit the second son, surely his father would have given him an allowance? Though the same father had made a pauper of his wife. And Alexander had been, in his own words, brought up very differently from his brother, the heir. Eloise knew from her own experience that this could only mean that he was treated very much as second best.

Aware that her thoughts had run away from her, she looked up, discovering to her consternation Alexander watching her carefully. ‘I was just wondering why you are considering me as a wife, when...’

‘There are women queueing up for the privilege?’ He smiled faintly. ‘Perhaps because there are not. What I’m wondering is why you are considering my proposal. To put it bluntly, Miss Brannagh, though we will live separate lives once we have established the marriage in the eyes of the world, we will remain legally married. For the sake of appearances, Fearnoch House in London must be your main residence—and I hope you will treat it as your home. For form’s sake it must be my home too, during the time when my work does not detain me abroad. So our paths will cross, albeit infrequently, though Fearnoch House is, I gather, large enough to permit us to live under its roof without encountering each other unless we wish to.’

‘You gather? I thought you said it was the family home?’

‘And has been for generations, but it has never been my home.’

For reasons he did not wish to discuss, judging by his tone. ‘But—forgive me, your brother died almost a year ago, and though you were abroad at the time, you’ve been back in England...’

‘Until I marry, Miss Brannagh, I have no rights to anything but the title. Fearnoch House has been closed up since Walter died. The family lawyer has been administering the estate. My mother continues in the Dower House in the country, and I have continued in my own lodgings.’

‘I had no idea.’

‘Why should you?’

Since Eloise could think of nothing to say to this, she decided, wisely, for once to say nothing.

‘I can assure you that once we are married—if we marry,’ Alexander continued, ‘you will be free to live your life as you choose, but—forgive me, but I think it imperative that we are clear on one delicate matter. Since there can be no question of a divorce or even an annulment, you understand that there can be no prospect of your having children?’

Once again, her cheeks flamed. She had not anticipated their discussions becoming so personal. ‘I do understand that, and I assure you it’s not an issue,’ Eloise said hurriedly. ‘I am not—I’m not—that more intimate aspect of marriage does not appeal to me. Furthermore, I have never wanted children.’

‘May I know why?’

She didn’t want to explain herself, reluctant to recall those miserable years in Ireland. Already, she had the impression that Alexander Sinclair was the type of man who saw a great deal more than he let on, and she didn’t want him peering into the dark nooks and crannies of her past. ‘If we do not have children—I mean, if you and your wife don’t have offspring, then the Fearnoch estates will pass to your cousin, I presume?’

‘Yes, though I don’t see why...’

‘My point is, that’s what you’re trying to avoid, isn’t it—his bringing the estates to rack and ruin. I am not suggesting that you will die prematurely...’ As his brother did! ‘What I mean is, that there’s a chance, at some point, that what you’re trying to prevent might come to pass if you don’t have children of your own.’

‘No, there’s no chance of that.’ Alexander said grimly. ‘I haven’t made myself clear. As far as the estates are concerned, my intentions are first to protect them by preventing my cousin from inheriting, and then to secure them for the future by ridding myself of them.’

‘Ridding yourself?’

‘I believe that those who have lived and farmed the lands for generations are far more entitled to profit from them than I.’

‘That is an extremely philanthropic point of view to take.’

‘It is a question of what is right, as well as what is in the best interests of those concerned.’

There was that tightness in his expression again that made her feel uncomfortable, as if she had inadvertently opened the door on something extremely painful and very private. Could he be thinking that he would, like his brother, die young?

‘It should go without saying,’ he said drily, ‘that your settlement would be safe, as would my mother’s.’

‘That is not what I was worried about!’ She stared at him, aghast. ‘I was thinking about you, your brother—if he died of some sort of hereditary disease, it would explain why you do not wish for children. To have such a—a cloud hanging over you...’ She broke off, blinking furiously as tears blurred her eyes. Alexander looked quite thunderstruck, and no wonder, the poor man. He looked so healthy. Eloise searched frantically for her handkerchief.

‘Miss Brannagh, I am in rude health, I assure you. My brother’s demise was largely self-inflicted.’

‘Oh. I see.’ Though she didn’t, quite, but she could not possibly embarrass herself further by asking. ‘I don’t think I could bear to marry you, only to have you die on me. People would think I was a murderess as well as a gold-digger.’

She had meant it to make light of the situation, but his smile faded immediately. ‘I have only just met you, but I am absolutely certain that you are not a gold-digger.’

‘Well, no, I’m not, but...’

He caught her hands in his. ‘As you can imagine, the life of an Admiralty Victualling Commissioner is fraught, danger lurks behind every inventory. There, I have made you smile! But there is an important point to be made. What I’m proposing is a purely—I believe the term is companionate relationship, though we won’t be companions in that sense, for I will be away much of the time, as I said.’

‘I do understand that, Alexander. I’m not sure exactly...’

‘I won’t marry you, if you—forgive me if this sounds presumptuous, but you must not become overly fond of me.’

She was mistaken, was reading too much into what he said, he was simply being scrupulously honest, and she appreciated that. Yet there was such a bleakness in his eyes, his expression so earnest, and his grip on her fingers so tight. Then it dawned on her, and she felt extremely foolish. Even she, who considered herself utterly immune to such things, had found herself momentarily attracted to the man and he had sensed it. ‘I won’t fall in love with you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I assure you, that sort of thing is anathema to me, so you need have no fears, I will respect both our marriage vows and the terms under which we must live them.’