Yuletide Treasure (Thornton 1.50)

A crack of mocking laughter. “You need not worry on that score. With the exception of today, I never intend to leave Farrington or to rejoin society. Therefore, I shan’t have the opportunity to meet this alleged keeper of my heart. Your answer, please?”

She blanched. “My answer—now?”

“Certainly, now. I don’t see a need to procrastinate, nor to explore absurd, farfetched ramifications.” A sudden possibility made him scowl. “You don’t harbor any romantic illusions of marrying for love, do you? Is that why you posed that ludicrous question about my awaiting the perfect bride?”

Brigitte’s lashes drifted to her cheeks. “I harbor no such illusions, my lord. In truth, I thought never to marry.”

“Why is that?”

Her lashes lifted, but shutters descended in their wake. “To echo your sentiments, that is my concern, not yours.”

He felt a spark of admiration at her audacious response. “As you wish. Very well, then, let’s circumvent your reasons and get to your decision. Are you or are you not willing to forgo your expectations to remain unwed, and to accept my terms? Simply answer yes or no.”

“Lord Farrington, we’re discussing marriage, not a business venture.”

A shrug. “In this case, they are one and the same. I’ve made you an offer, defined the conditions that accompany it. Assuming both of us are amenable, we’ll finalize our agreement.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.” Eric ignored her baffled incredulity. “After which there will be no further need for us to interact. You’ll keep Noelle occupied and out of my sight. I’ll sustain my solitary life. As a result, Miss Curran, you’ll have no reason to fear for your own.”

An odd light flickered in Brigitte’s eyes. “You’re determined to further this illusion, aren’t you?” she asked softly. Eric went rigid. “What in the hell does that mean?”

“Three times,” Noelle piped up. “Now you said that bad word three times.”

Eric tore his stunned gaze from Brigitte to glare unsteadily at his niece.

“Noelle.” Brigitte interceded, squatting down and stunning Eric yet again—this time with her direct and effective manner of handling Noelle’s insolent tongue. “Your uncle is an adult, and adults cannot be ordered about nor reprimanded by children.”

“Why? He said a wicked oath.”

“I agree. Nevertheless, the rule I just gave you holds true even if the adult in question happens to be wrong. I know it seems very unfair, but that doesn’t change the fact that a rule is a rule and must be followed.”

Sullenly, Noelle kicked the dirt.

“You’re angry. I don’t blame you. I get angry when I have to follow rules I disagree with, too.”

That made Noelle’s chin come up. “What rules do you have to follow? You’re a grown-up. You can do what you want.”

“Oh, if that were only true.” Brigitte sighed, shaking her head. “But it’s not. Let me tell you something. Not only do adults have rules to abide by, just like children, but ofttimes our rules are far harder to obey—and the consequences far more dire if we don’t.”

A spark of interest. “Really?”

“Really. For example, if your uncle continues to utter profanities, ’tis true that you and I can do nothing to stop him. But I know someone who can.” Solemnly, Brigitte raised her eyes to the heavens, then rolled them pointedly at Eric. “Thus, were I Lord Farrington, I’d guard my tongue. After all, you never know when He might be watching … and listening.”

Noelle looked thoroughly pleased with that prospect.

“Brigitte,” the vicar interceded, “before you foolishly entertain the notion of accepting Lord Farrington’s offer, you should be aware of one detail he has yet to mention. The young woman he weds will be forbidden to leave his estate, with or without Noelle. She’ll be a veritable prisoner in a mansion that is no home but a mausoleum. I, better than anyone, understand your tender heart and its selfless intentions. But I also understand that the same tender heart would suffocate within so barren a life. Thus, my answer is still no.”

“We’ve heard your answer and your sentiments several times, Vicar,” Eric snapped with icy derision. “But, as you are not the one I’ve asked to wed, I’d like to hear from your granddaughter. Miss Curran?” He lowered his expectant stare to Brigitte, who still crouched next to Noelle. And waited.

Brigitte met his gaze, looking from him to her grandfather and, finally, to Noelle, who abruptly bowed her head and began whispering to Fuzzy.

The last seemed to trigger Brigitte’s decision.

She came to her feet.

“I accept your offer, Lord Farrington.” As she spoke, she squeezed her grandfather’s forearm—whether to reassure him or silence him, Eric wasn’t certain. “—with a few stipulations.”