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Authors: Candace Camp
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frowned. "I am not sure what you are getting at."
"You were correct in your first assumption, my lady. Matrimonial concerns are what brought me here."
"I beg your pardon?"
"My family is interested in marrying me off to a proper young lady. I am, you see, an embarrassment to them. The facts of my life are, apparently, somehow a scandal, a reflection upon them. And an earl who cannot ride, and whose vowels are not rounded and plummy enough, is a disgrace. As for my business interests ... well, they cannot even be spoken of."
Despite his light tone, his words were biting and his eyes were hard. It seemed clear to Irene that the man had little liking for his newly discovered family—or perhaps it was simply disdain for the nobility in general. She could not help but feel a certain sympathy for him. After all, she had for several years been viewed by many of her peers and even some members of her family with disfavor, if not actual dislike, for her forthright manner and blunt speech.
Radbourne went on, "They have come up with a plan to cover my shortcomings by shackling me to a woman of good family. I think it is their hope that she will guide me into more appropriate behavior—or at least hide some of my inappropriateness."
"You are a grown man," Irene pointed out. "They cannot force you to marry."
He grimaced. "No. Only talk me to death on the matter."
Irene hid a smile. She knew the power of an incessant harangue all too well.
He shrugged. "But I know that I must marry and produce an heir. If I refuse now, I am only delaying the inevitable. I toyed with the idea of marrying an opera dancer or some such, just to put their noses out of joint. But it would be unfair of me to put someone else in that position. Nor would I want to doom my children to gossip and whispers. I will not make them pariahs among their peers. Therefore, I agree that I need to marry a suitable wife. You are, I understand, not yet married or betrothed, and according to my great-aunt, your family fits the requirements very well. Lady Haughston has apparently agreed to help Lady Pencully in this endeavor, so I suggested to her that you be considered as one of the possibilities."
Irene gaped at him, so astonished that she was momentarily robbed of the ability to speak. Finally she blurted out, "You are considering marrying me because I once threatened you with a pistol?"
"I thought that you might be less dull than the simpering misses they have presented to me," he replied, smiling a little.
She stared at him for a moment longer, then drew herself up to her full height, her eyes flashing. "Are you mad? Your words are insulting in so many ways that I scarce know where to start."
He stiffened a little, his face settling into hard lines. His voice was silkily dangerous as he said, "The idea of marrying me is an insult to you?"
"Do you expect me to feel flattered because you decided to 'consider' me as a 'possibility' in your parade of brides? Am I to be honored that you picked me out from the others, like a mare at a sale? Because you deemed me somewhat less boring and unworthy of you than the other unmarried women of the
ton?"
His mouth tightened. "It is not the way you make it sound. I am not purchasing a wife. It would be a practical arrangement, something that would be advantageous for you, as well. I assumed that you had passed the age of holding girlish fantasies about love."
"Believe me, I was never so young as to hold that sort of fantasy," Irene shot back. Anger vibrated through her, making her oblivious to everything else.
She took a step forward, hands clenched into fists at her sides, and glared up into his face, finding his icy calm more infuriating than any raw display of temper. "Did you think that I was so desperate to marry, so unable to make my way through this world without the guidance of a man, that I would jump at such an opportunity?"
"I thought you would be mature and logical enough to see the advantages for both of us in
"You were correct in your first assumption, my lady. Matrimonial concerns are what brought me here."
"I beg your pardon?"
"My family is interested in marrying me off to a proper young lady. I am, you see, an embarrassment to them. The facts of my life are, apparently, somehow a scandal, a reflection upon them. And an earl who cannot ride, and whose vowels are not rounded and plummy enough, is a disgrace. As for my business interests ... well, they cannot even be spoken of."
Despite his light tone, his words were biting and his eyes were hard. It seemed clear to Irene that the man had little liking for his newly discovered family—or perhaps it was simply disdain for the nobility in general. She could not help but feel a certain sympathy for him. After all, she had for several years been viewed by many of her peers and even some members of her family with disfavor, if not actual dislike, for her forthright manner and blunt speech.
Radbourne went on, "They have come up with a plan to cover my shortcomings by shackling me to a woman of good family. I think it is their hope that she will guide me into more appropriate behavior—or at least hide some of my inappropriateness."
"You are a grown man," Irene pointed out. "They cannot force you to marry."
He grimaced. "No. Only talk me to death on the matter."
Irene hid a smile. She knew the power of an incessant harangue all too well.
He shrugged. "But I know that I must marry and produce an heir. If I refuse now, I am only delaying the inevitable. I toyed with the idea of marrying an opera dancer or some such, just to put their noses out of joint. But it would be unfair of me to put someone else in that position. Nor would I want to doom my children to gossip and whispers. I will not make them pariahs among their peers. Therefore, I agree that I need to marry a suitable wife. You are, I understand, not yet married or betrothed, and according to my great-aunt, your family fits the requirements very well. Lady Haughston has apparently agreed to help Lady Pencully in this endeavor, so I suggested to her that you be considered as one of the possibilities."
Irene gaped at him, so astonished that she was momentarily robbed of the ability to speak. Finally she blurted out, "You are considering marrying me because I once threatened you with a pistol?"
"I thought that you might be less dull than the simpering misses they have presented to me," he replied, smiling a little.
She stared at him for a moment longer, then drew herself up to her full height, her eyes flashing. "Are you mad? Your words are insulting in so many ways that I scarce know where to start."
He stiffened a little, his face settling into hard lines. His voice was silkily dangerous as he said, "The idea of marrying me is an insult to you?"
"Do you expect me to feel flattered because you decided to 'consider' me as a 'possibility' in your parade of brides? Am I to be honored that you picked me out from the others, like a mare at a sale? Because you deemed me somewhat less boring and unworthy of you than the other unmarried women of the
ton?"
His mouth tightened. "It is not the way you make it sound. I am not purchasing a wife. It would be a practical arrangement, something that would be advantageous for you, as well. I assumed that you had passed the age of holding girlish fantasies about love."
"Believe me, I was never so young as to hold that sort of fantasy," Irene shot back. Anger vibrated through her, making her oblivious to everything else.
She took a step forward, hands clenched into fists at her sides, and glared up into his face, finding his icy calm more infuriating than any raw display of temper. "Did you think that I was so desperate to marry, so unable to make my way through this world without the guidance of a man, that I would jump at such an opportunity?"
"I thought you would be mature and logical enough to see the advantages for both of us in
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