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Authors: Laura Lee Guhrke
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appreciate Henry's position. It was probably every father's deepest fear. "What makes you think I can succeed where so many others have failed?"
"I don't know that you can. But it's worth a try." He downed the last swallow from his glass, then refilled it from the bottle between them.
"So," Trevor said, "your main concern is to see your daughter settled in her own home with a titled husband who can give her respectability and security."
"Yes. If that doesn't happen, God only knows who she might take it into her head to marry. Or, she might not marry at all, and what kind of life is that for a woman? She's actually threatened to run off to a Greek island and live in sin with some starving artist who'll paint her in the moonlight. She'd do it, too, if she fell in love with the scoundrel."
Henry gave his mustache an irritable tug. "Besides, I want grandchildren. I didn't work this hard for the past thirty years to leave it all to charity. But most important, I want her to make a good match. As I said, I think you would be the right man for her."
Trevor did not answer, and the other man went on, "Of course, if you don't think you can do it. . ."
Trevor flashed Henry a wry glance and refused to be drawn in. He leaned back in his chair and stared into space, Margaret's image forming in his mind. The shape of her came first, the appealing violin shape, the generous curves. Wide brown eyes, a round chin, plump cheeks, and a small, straight nose. Creamy white skin and a becoming blush. It was an ordinary female face, an honest face. Too honest. "In order to secure her future, you'd allow her to be deceived?"
"I don't expect you to lie to her," Henry answered testily. "I'm hoping you might be able to persuade her. Besides, it's better to have a disillusioned heart and security than a disastrous marriage made for irrational reasons."
"Your daughter obviously does not agree with you."
Henry shook his head with impatience. "Margaret thinks marriage should be romantic, and life should be one exciting adventure after another. I love my daughter, but I have never claimed to understand her. The point is, she has no idea what marriage is really about. She's bound to be disillusioned, no matter who she marries."
That was true enough. Trevor had seen plenty of marriages and knew there was very little romance in them.
"This is in your best interests as well, Ashton. You have to marry to secure an heir." He paused, then played his last card. "And you need the money rather desperately."
Trevor shot him a sharp glance. "You seem to hone in on all the salient points, Mr. Van Alden."
"I told you, I've heard all the gossip. Your late brother's expensive tastes and talent for bad investments have never been a secret."
"You don't have to tell me about my brother's shortcomings. I know all about them."
"Well, are you going to do it?"
Instead of answering, Trevor took a swallow of brandy and asked another question. "What sort of dowry do you have in mind?"
Henry smiled. "I thought the financial arrangements would be important to you."
"You brought it up."
"True. Why don't you give me a starting point?"
Trevor ran his finger around the rim of his glass, and wondered just how much to ask for. He needed two hundred thousand pounds to pay off his brother's debt, but he had to add enough to ensure the future. Also, this was a negotiation.
"Five hundred thousand pounds."
Henry didn't even blink. He pursed his lips and leaned forward, ready to negotiate. "I'll give you a lump sum of two hundred thousand pounds as a marriage settlement—I do believe that is the sum of your late brother's debt? In addition, a monthly allowance of three thousand pounds for the care and support of your estate, and a monthly allowance for Margaret of five hundred pounds. The rest of her inheritance, however, will be held in trust for her children." He met Trevor's gaze across the table. "Do we have a deal?"
Trevor set down his glass and stared at it thoughtfully
"I don't know that you can. But it's worth a try." He downed the last swallow from his glass, then refilled it from the bottle between them.
"So," Trevor said, "your main concern is to see your daughter settled in her own home with a titled husband who can give her respectability and security."
"Yes. If that doesn't happen, God only knows who she might take it into her head to marry. Or, she might not marry at all, and what kind of life is that for a woman? She's actually threatened to run off to a Greek island and live in sin with some starving artist who'll paint her in the moonlight. She'd do it, too, if she fell in love with the scoundrel."
Henry gave his mustache an irritable tug. "Besides, I want grandchildren. I didn't work this hard for the past thirty years to leave it all to charity. But most important, I want her to make a good match. As I said, I think you would be the right man for her."
Trevor did not answer, and the other man went on, "Of course, if you don't think you can do it. . ."
Trevor flashed Henry a wry glance and refused to be drawn in. He leaned back in his chair and stared into space, Margaret's image forming in his mind. The shape of her came first, the appealing violin shape, the generous curves. Wide brown eyes, a round chin, plump cheeks, and a small, straight nose. Creamy white skin and a becoming blush. It was an ordinary female face, an honest face. Too honest. "In order to secure her future, you'd allow her to be deceived?"
"I don't expect you to lie to her," Henry answered testily. "I'm hoping you might be able to persuade her. Besides, it's better to have a disillusioned heart and security than a disastrous marriage made for irrational reasons."
"Your daughter obviously does not agree with you."
Henry shook his head with impatience. "Margaret thinks marriage should be romantic, and life should be one exciting adventure after another. I love my daughter, but I have never claimed to understand her. The point is, she has no idea what marriage is really about. She's bound to be disillusioned, no matter who she marries."
That was true enough. Trevor had seen plenty of marriages and knew there was very little romance in them.
"This is in your best interests as well, Ashton. You have to marry to secure an heir." He paused, then played his last card. "And you need the money rather desperately."
Trevor shot him a sharp glance. "You seem to hone in on all the salient points, Mr. Van Alden."
"I told you, I've heard all the gossip. Your late brother's expensive tastes and talent for bad investments have never been a secret."
"You don't have to tell me about my brother's shortcomings. I know all about them."
"Well, are you going to do it?"
Instead of answering, Trevor took a swallow of brandy and asked another question. "What sort of dowry do you have in mind?"
Henry smiled. "I thought the financial arrangements would be important to you."
"You brought it up."
"True. Why don't you give me a starting point?"
Trevor ran his finger around the rim of his glass, and wondered just how much to ask for. He needed two hundred thousand pounds to pay off his brother's debt, but he had to add enough to ensure the future. Also, this was a negotiation.
"Five hundred thousand pounds."
Henry didn't even blink. He pursed his lips and leaned forward, ready to negotiate. "I'll give you a lump sum of two hundred thousand pounds as a marriage settlement—I do believe that is the sum of your late brother's debt? In addition, a monthly allowance of three thousand pounds for the care and support of your estate, and a monthly allowance for Margaret of five hundred pounds. The rest of her inheritance, however, will be held in trust for her children." He met Trevor's gaze across the table. "Do we have a deal?"
Trevor set down his glass and stared at it thoughtfully
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