Seabern."
He inclined his head. "That knowledge will greatly increase my appreciation of my bath."
"No doubt." She mentally braced herself. "There was something you wished to discuss with me, sir?"
"Aye. Our marriage."
Clare flinched, but she did not fall off the bench. Under the circumstances, she considered that a great
accomplishment. "You are very direct about matters, sir."
He looked mildly surprised. "I see no point in being otherwise."
"Nor do I. Very well, sir, let me be blunt. In spite of your efforts to establish yourself in everyone's eyes
as the sole suitor for my hand, I must tell you again that your expectations are unrealistic."
"Nay, madam," Gareth said very quietly. "Tis your expectations that are unrealistic. I read the letter you
sent to Lord Thurston. It is obvious you hope to marry a phantom, a man who does not exist. I fear you
must settle for something less than perfection."
She lifted her chin. "You think that no man can be found who suits my requirements?"
"I believe that we are both old enough and wise enough to know that marriage is a practical matter. It
has nothing to do with the passions that the troubadours make so much of in their foolish ballads."
Clare clasped her hands together very tightly. "Kindly do not condescend to lecture me on the subject
of marriage, sir. I am only too well aware that in my case it is a matter of duty, not desire. But in truth,
when I composed my recipe for a husband, I did not believe that I was asking for so very much."
"Mayhap you will discover enough good points in me to satisfy you, madam."
Clare blinked. "Do you actually believe that?"
"I would ask you to examine closely what I have to offer. I think that I can meet a goodly portion of
your requirements."
She surveyed him from head to toe. "You most definitely do not meet my requirements in the matter
of size."
"Concerning my size, as I said earlier, there is little I can do about it, but I assure you I do not generally
rely upon it to obtain my ends."
Clare gave a ladylike snort of disbelief.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
"Tis true. I prefer to use my wits rather than muscle whenever possible."
"Sir, I shall be frank. I want a man of peace for this isle. Desire has never known violence. I intend to
keep things that way. I do not want a husband who thrives on the sport of war."
He looked down at her with an expression of surprise. "I have no love of violence or war."
Clare raised her brows. "Are you going to tell me that you have no interest in either? You, who carry
a sword with a terrible name? You, who wear a reputation as a destroyer of murderers and thieves?"
"I did not say I had no interest in such matters. I have, after all, used a warrior's skills to make my
way in the world. They are the tools of my trade, that's all."
"A fine point, sir."
"But a valid one. I have grown weary of violence, madam. I seek a quiet, peaceful life."
Clare did not bother to hide her skepticism. "An interesting statement, given your choice of career."
"I did not have much choice in the matter of my career," Gareth said. "Did you?"
"Nay, but that is—"
"Let us go on to your second requirement. You wrote that you desire a man of cheerful countenance
and even temperament."
She stared at him, astonished. "You consider yourself a man of cheerful countenance?"
"Nay, I admit that I have been told my countenance is somewhat less than cheerful. But I am most
definitely a man of even temperament."
"I do not believe that for a moment, sir."
"I promise you, it is the truth. You may inquire of anyone who knows me. Ask Sir Ulrich. He has been
my companion for years. He will tell you that I am the most even-tempered of men. I am not given to
fits of rage or foul temper."
Or to mirth and laughter, either, Clare thought as she met his smoky crystal eyes. "Very well, I shall
grant that you may be even-tempered in a certain sense, although that was
He inclined his head. "That knowledge will greatly increase my appreciation of my bath."
"No doubt." She mentally braced herself. "There was something you wished to discuss with me, sir?"
"Aye. Our marriage."
Clare flinched, but she did not fall off the bench. Under the circumstances, she considered that a great
accomplishment. "You are very direct about matters, sir."
He looked mildly surprised. "I see no point in being otherwise."
"Nor do I. Very well, sir, let me be blunt. In spite of your efforts to establish yourself in everyone's eyes
as the sole suitor for my hand, I must tell you again that your expectations are unrealistic."
"Nay, madam," Gareth said very quietly. "Tis your expectations that are unrealistic. I read the letter you
sent to Lord Thurston. It is obvious you hope to marry a phantom, a man who does not exist. I fear you
must settle for something less than perfection."
She lifted her chin. "You think that no man can be found who suits my requirements?"
"I believe that we are both old enough and wise enough to know that marriage is a practical matter. It
has nothing to do with the passions that the troubadours make so much of in their foolish ballads."
Clare clasped her hands together very tightly. "Kindly do not condescend to lecture me on the subject
of marriage, sir. I am only too well aware that in my case it is a matter of duty, not desire. But in truth,
when I composed my recipe for a husband, I did not believe that I was asking for so very much."
"Mayhap you will discover enough good points in me to satisfy you, madam."
Clare blinked. "Do you actually believe that?"
"I would ask you to examine closely what I have to offer. I think that I can meet a goodly portion of
your requirements."
She surveyed him from head to toe. "You most definitely do not meet my requirements in the matter
of size."
"Concerning my size, as I said earlier, there is little I can do about it, but I assure you I do not generally
rely upon it to obtain my ends."
Clare gave a ladylike snort of disbelief.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
"Tis true. I prefer to use my wits rather than muscle whenever possible."
"Sir, I shall be frank. I want a man of peace for this isle. Desire has never known violence. I intend to
keep things that way. I do not want a husband who thrives on the sport of war."
He looked down at her with an expression of surprise. "I have no love of violence or war."
Clare raised her brows. "Are you going to tell me that you have no interest in either? You, who carry
a sword with a terrible name? You, who wear a reputation as a destroyer of murderers and thieves?"
"I did not say I had no interest in such matters. I have, after all, used a warrior's skills to make my
way in the world. They are the tools of my trade, that's all."
"A fine point, sir."
"But a valid one. I have grown weary of violence, madam. I seek a quiet, peaceful life."
Clare did not bother to hide her skepticism. "An interesting statement, given your choice of career."
"I did not have much choice in the matter of my career," Gareth said. "Did you?"
"Nay, but that is—"
"Let us go on to your second requirement. You wrote that you desire a man of cheerful countenance
and even temperament."
She stared at him, astonished. "You consider yourself a man of cheerful countenance?"
"Nay, I admit that I have been told my countenance is somewhat less than cheerful. But I am most
definitely a man of even temperament."
"I do not believe that for a moment, sir."
"I promise you, it is the truth. You may inquire of anyone who knows me. Ask Sir Ulrich. He has been
my companion for years. He will tell you that I am the most even-tempered of men. I am not given to
fits of rage or foul temper."
Or to mirth and laughter, either, Clare thought as she met his smoky crystal eyes. "Very well, I shall
grant that you may be even-tempered in a certain sense, although that was
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