Page 42 of The Queen of Roses

He did not make her wait for very long.

“Miss Pearce, would you do me the very great honor of consenting to be my wife?”

“Mr. Whitley—”

“Guy.” He shifted from foot to foot. “Please call me Guy.”

He was nervous. This man who seemed to burst forth with a vigor for life and was at times almost arrogant was worried she might say no.

This was her moment. Her time to secure her future. It would not look as she had always imagined, but she would have security, comfort, status.

“First, might I ask you something?” she said slowly.

“Anything,” he said, squeezing her hand.

“My parents are very dear to me,” she started. “It is important to me that any marriage I make would ensure they have a comfortable life, especially as they grow older. My father’s health…”

“I believe strongly in caring for one’s family, Miss Pearce. I can promise you that if you accept my proposal, I will ensure there are provisions made for your parents.”

It was precisely what Mama would have wanted to hear. Perhaps Papa would have had the presence of mind to ask for such consideration as part of her marriage settlement, but after he’d let his fortune slip away, she could no longer trust him.

No. In accepting Mr. Whitley’s proposal, Adele would have to think for her parents and, as Mrs. Barnes had urged, herself.

“Forgive me for being forthright, but I would like to know what those provisions would be. I realize that it is unconventional for a woman to negotiate her own marriage settlement, but—”

He laughed. “It appears you have something of the businesswoman about you after all.”

“I would think you of all people should admire such prudence,” she said.

“Oh, I do. Name your next condition. I’m so happy, I find myself inclined to grant you anything you wish.”

“I would like to ensure that any marriage settlement between us will care for any children produced from our union.”

“Consider it done,” he said.

“And I should like to ensure that I am provided for as well, independently of any heir.”

If she was going to make sacrifices, she wanted something entirely her own to show for it.

“It would only be right that you are provided for during your lifetime. You are, after all, younger than me,” he said with a smirk.

“I would appreciate it if part of that settlement is a house.”

He frowned for the first time since proposing. “A house? For your parents?”

“I was thinking of something more in line with a dower house,” she said slowly. “It is common practice in England for a home to be attached to an estate so that, when the head of a family dies, his wife may move there and make way for the heir and his wife.”

She had heard of too many families where the matriarch clashed with the wife of her eldest son after her husband’s death. If she was to make Guy Whitley and his life in Pasadena her own, she wished to secure her future in every way possible.

“I am aware of the practice,” he said. “We will find you a house as soon as we have a home of our own. I’ll even consider naming an allowance for its upkeep as part of our marriage settlement. Would that suit?”

“I think that would do very nicely. If I say yes,” she reminded him, placing a slight tease into her tone.

He clasped her hand. “I would like it very much if you said yes.”

She studied him for a moment, his face lit by the golden California sun and his eyes open with anticipation. She did not love him, but she had never been the type of woman who chased romance and sentiment. Instead, she’d needed a swift engagement to a wealthy man, and one such man now stood before her with a good, generous proposal. She would not turn him down.

“Yes,” she said simply.