Page 52 of Inconvenient Honor
“Sell it.”
I thought she was the one on the cattle market. Am I to be trussed and branded before sale also?Bile rose and a sour taste took hold in his mouth.Will she do? Will the whole damned deal do? Any more on Sarah Wharton and I’ll run screaming into the night.
“Show me again the numbers for the Northumbrian holdings,” he said to distract his father.
An hour later the two men made their way through the cavernous Sudbury House toward dinner set up in the blue salon, and Richard tried to see the logic of the thing. He began to catalog the advantages of marriage to Lady Sarah when they left the estate office.
Beautiful face—if you like marble. Lily bloomed with life.
He shook his head and followed his father down a hallway lit with dozens of beeswax candles.
Impeccable bloodlines—that run a bit close to aristocratic inbreeding.
He looked at the back of his father’s balding head. Lily’s heritage would add intelligence, courage, and strength to any alliance. Pedigree isn’t everything. That idea went against everything he had been raised to believe and took him off guard.
The duke winced a bit while he climbed the ornate marble stairs to the second story. Richard noted the signs of age coldly. He knew his father wouldn’t welcome any mention of weakness.
The Whartons are wealthy—there is no arguing that. Perhaps she will do.
Richard considered the impact of one more minor land holding and found it negligible. They turned at the landing.
Poised and confident in social and diplomatic circles.
He could be certain Lady Sarah would decorate his arm and not embarrass him in public. What about in private? He couldn’t picture bantering ideas about the affairs of state with her. In his mind, Lily Thornton laughed at him.
What about in the bedroom?No matter how hard he tried to squelch it, all he could see was Lily, passion raw in her eyes.Shewon’t have me! he reminded himself ruthlessly and clamped his jaw so tightly it hurt.
They reached the withdrawing room where the family gathered before dinner.
The Wharton chit is well schooled in the duties of a duchess?—
The haughty face of Her Grace, his mother, glared back at him. “You’re late,” she snapped. “We do not tolerate such behavior in this house.”
Richard trooped in to dinner with his parents and youngest sister. They walked sedately in strict order of precedence. They sat in their usual places in the same order, just as they had from the time Richard reached adulthood and was permitted at table. Her Grace nodded, and serving began, formally and in silence. He stared at his soup.
“I spoke with Lady Sarah Wharton, this afternoon. We discussed preferred living arrangements. The girl has perfect taste,” his mother pronounced. “You will turn over all decisions about such matters to her.”
“We are not betrothed,” Richard said, as blandly as he could.
Her Grace ignored him. She ignored all truths that did not meet her desires. “The matter of neighborhoods can be easily resolved. The wedding, of course, will be at Saint George, Hanover Square.”
“We have not yet?—”
“Yes, yes.” His mother waved an impatient hand. “Don’t keep Lisle waiting tomorrow.”
He put down his spoon and stared at the table without actually seeing it.
She will not do.He knew it in his marrow.
Well schooled in the duties of a duchess?—
Realization filled him. He didn’t want a duchess. “I’m not going to marry Lady Sarah Wharton.”
“Don’t talk nonsense,” Her Grace spat. “Restrain your tendency to low standards, Glenaire. “Lady Sarah told me you forced her to greet that schoolmaster’s son and his wife at the theatre. We do not receive them.”
His wife—your daughter. Her Grace chose to ignore that fact also. She couldn’t bend Georgiana to her will and, therefore, decided she did not exist.
“She will not suit,” Richard said.
