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Authors: Elizabeth Amber
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yours?” he asked.
“In my view,” Jane confided, “you are too fickle. At Villa d’Este, you were quite fixed on another young lady, as I recall.”
“Ah!” Something shifted in his eyes momentarily, making her wary. “I can’t explain my behavior the other day beyond saying that once you left the gardens, I realized a definite attraction in your direction existed. I apologize for the necessity of making formal arrangements for our marriage through your guardians. It’s done this way here in Italy.”
“It’s arranged in much the same way in England, as you must know. But even there, men and women learn something of one another before they marry.” She spread her hands in a gesture of confusion. “How can you want to wed someone you don’t know?”
“From what I have observed at your English balls, there is little interaction before an engagement. Women dress like flowers to attract men to their honey. A few dances, a very few words, and men soon find themselves husbands.”
“I wasn’t dressed to attract when we met.”
“How lucky for me then that I saw through your disguise.”
He was too glib. Annoyed, she tried to read his thoughts.
Nick felt her press at the gates of his mind. Her touch was purposeful but weaker than his will and easily blocked. No doubt this was not her strongest talent. Briefly he wondered what that would prove to be.
Concealment. It rolled from him in waves. Jane’s gaze shifted away. He wasn’t the only one concealing something.
“I sense some underlying reason for your suit of which you aren’t apprising me. Otherwise, why the rush?” she went on.
“It’s difficult for me to be away from my land for great stretches. I recently decided it was time to marry. Now, I’d like to get on with it,” he said.
“And any woman would adequately suit the position? Even one who tells fortunes in disguise for coin?”
“I have numerous requirements in a wife.”
“I’m interested to know what they are,” she snapped. “I bring you no title, no wealth, no land. I’m unremarkable.”
She had no idea how wrong she was. “I have sufficient titles, wealth, and land that I needn’t go seeking them in a wife. I only require an intelligent, well-bred lady of marriageable age who will bear my children.”
“Under your requirements, you would find hundreds of suitable ladies.”
He spread his hands, feigning regret. “Alas, the laws of Italy decree I cannot marry hundreds. I’ve chosen you.”
“But for all you know, I could be unchaste.” She leaned forward meaningfully. “Or a candidate for bedlam.”
“Are you?” he inquired.
She drew back. “I’d hardly reveal it if I were.”
He smiled, enjoying her. “It’s of no moment. Our contract allows me to annul our marriage on several counts, including those you mentioned. Come, unlike your aunt, I would not have you ignorant.” He drew her to sit at the desk. Leaning over her, he began to outline the meaning of each paragraph of the agreement in turn.
“Here I require you to accept the surname of Satyr rather than keeping that of your father, as would be customary in Italian marriages.”
His desire to stamp his name on his wife didn’t surprise her. But it was the least of her concerns.
“And here it says the marriage may be annulled for a number of reasons.”
“Voided, you mean?” she interrupted. “As though it had never existed?”
He nodded, and she marveled at his conceit in suggesting such an idea.
“As you see here,” he went on, enumerating the clauses, “I may petition for annulment in the event you prove not to be virginal.”
She blushed furiously at this, glad her bent head hid her reddened cheeks.
“Likewise,” he continued matter-of-factly, “I may do so if you deny me husbandly rights, prove unfaithful, or if you don’t produce an heir within a reasonable amount of time.”
“The latter is hardly fair,” she pointed out.
“But necessary. And, in the event of an
“In my view,” Jane confided, “you are too fickle. At Villa d’Este, you were quite fixed on another young lady, as I recall.”
“Ah!” Something shifted in his eyes momentarily, making her wary. “I can’t explain my behavior the other day beyond saying that once you left the gardens, I realized a definite attraction in your direction existed. I apologize for the necessity of making formal arrangements for our marriage through your guardians. It’s done this way here in Italy.”
“It’s arranged in much the same way in England, as you must know. But even there, men and women learn something of one another before they marry.” She spread her hands in a gesture of confusion. “How can you want to wed someone you don’t know?”
“From what I have observed at your English balls, there is little interaction before an engagement. Women dress like flowers to attract men to their honey. A few dances, a very few words, and men soon find themselves husbands.”
“I wasn’t dressed to attract when we met.”
“How lucky for me then that I saw through your disguise.”
He was too glib. Annoyed, she tried to read his thoughts.
Nick felt her press at the gates of his mind. Her touch was purposeful but weaker than his will and easily blocked. No doubt this was not her strongest talent. Briefly he wondered what that would prove to be.
Concealment. It rolled from him in waves. Jane’s gaze shifted away. He wasn’t the only one concealing something.
“I sense some underlying reason for your suit of which you aren’t apprising me. Otherwise, why the rush?” she went on.
“It’s difficult for me to be away from my land for great stretches. I recently decided it was time to marry. Now, I’d like to get on with it,” he said.
“And any woman would adequately suit the position? Even one who tells fortunes in disguise for coin?”
“I have numerous requirements in a wife.”
“I’m interested to know what they are,” she snapped. “I bring you no title, no wealth, no land. I’m unremarkable.”
She had no idea how wrong she was. “I have sufficient titles, wealth, and land that I needn’t go seeking them in a wife. I only require an intelligent, well-bred lady of marriageable age who will bear my children.”
“Under your requirements, you would find hundreds of suitable ladies.”
He spread his hands, feigning regret. “Alas, the laws of Italy decree I cannot marry hundreds. I’ve chosen you.”
“But for all you know, I could be unchaste.” She leaned forward meaningfully. “Or a candidate for bedlam.”
“Are you?” he inquired.
She drew back. “I’d hardly reveal it if I were.”
He smiled, enjoying her. “It’s of no moment. Our contract allows me to annul our marriage on several counts, including those you mentioned. Come, unlike your aunt, I would not have you ignorant.” He drew her to sit at the desk. Leaning over her, he began to outline the meaning of each paragraph of the agreement in turn.
“Here I require you to accept the surname of Satyr rather than keeping that of your father, as would be customary in Italian marriages.”
His desire to stamp his name on his wife didn’t surprise her. But it was the least of her concerns.
“And here it says the marriage may be annulled for a number of reasons.”
“Voided, you mean?” she interrupted. “As though it had never existed?”
He nodded, and she marveled at his conceit in suggesting such an idea.
“As you see here,” he went on, enumerating the clauses, “I may petition for annulment in the event you prove not to be virginal.”
She blushed furiously at this, glad her bent head hid her reddened cheeks.
“Likewise,” he continued matter-of-factly, “I may do so if you deny me husbandly rights, prove unfaithful, or if you don’t produce an heir within a reasonable amount of time.”
“The latter is hardly fair,” she pointed out.
“But necessary. And, in the event of an
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