“I am trying to ask if you’d consider marrying me.”
It took her a full minute to recover herself enough to speak. “Marriage?” she asked, her eyes wide. “To me?”
“Yes.” He was serious. “I can see that you’re shocked. Most of the women I meet are tall, statuesque blondes who train horses and wear couture. I don’t usually come across short, plump—”
“I understand,” she said quickly. “So why aren’t you married to one of these horsey women who spends her life trying on clothes?”
Her cattiness was acknowledged with a tiny bit of a smile. “I’m afraid that it’s as you say—they care only for my money.”
“Mr. Taggert,” she said, looking at him hard, “I’m not interested in your money or you.”
He gave a little smile. “Surely there are things you want that money can buy. I would imagine you live in a house with a mortgage, and I doubt that your car is less than three years old. Does your ex-husband pay you any support? You’re the type who would never take a person to court for nonpayment of debt. How long has it been since you’ve had any new clothes? There must be many things besides an education that you want for your son.”
That he’d described her life perfectly made her angry. “Being poor is not a social disease. And since slavery was outlawed some years ago, I don’t have to sell myself to get a new car.”
“How about a white Mercedes with red leather interior?”
She almost smiled at that. “Really, Mr. Taggert, this is ridiculous. What’s the real reason you’re asking me to marry you? If you still are, that is.”
“Yes. Once I make up my mind, I never change it.”
“I can believe that about you.”
Again he gave her a bit of a smile, making her wonder if any of the tall blondes in his life had ever contradicted him. “My life is too perfect,” he said, “and it’s beginning to bore me. Everything is perfectly in order as my servants are the best. There’s never so much as a hairbrush out of place in any of my houses. For some time now I’ve thought it might be pleasant to have a wife, someone familiar to me. I like familiarity, which is why the contents of each of my houses are exactly the same.”
Blinking, she thought about this for a moment. “Same towels, same—”
“Same clothes in exactly the same arrangement, so that no matt
er where I am I know what is where.”
“Oh my. That is boring.”
“But very efficient.”
“Where would I fit into this efficiency?”
“As I said before, I have considered a wife, and the women I generally meet would be as perfect as my life already is.”
“Why not marry several of them?” she asked helpfully. “One for each house. For variety you could change hair color, since I’m sure it wouldn’t be natural anyway.”
This time he did smile. Not an all-out teeth-showing smile, but a smile nonetheless. “If wives were not so much trouble, I would have done so years ago.”
She couldn’t suppress a bit of a laugh. “I think I’m beginning to understand. You want me because I’ll add chaos to your life.”
“And children.”
“Children?” she asked, blinking.
“Yes. My family is prolific. Twins, actually. I find I want children.” He looked away. “Since I was quite young, I have been very aware of my responsibilities. As the oldest of many siblings, I knew I would be the one to run the family business.”
“The crown prince, so to speak.”
“Yes, exactly. Fulfilling my obligations has always been uppermost in my mind. But about two years ago I met a boy.”
When he said nothing more, Miranda encouraged him. “A boy?”
“Yes, he was at my brother’s offices, skulking around from desk to desk, pretending to play but actually listening and looking at everything. I spoke to him, and it was like looking into my own eyes.”