It was a major effort to wrench her mind about to view her life from a different perspective, but, once she had done so, Lenore felt utterly defeated. She had concentrated for so long on getting her present established as she wished, she had overlooked the future. And her brothers, of course, had never encouraged anyone to think of their marrying.
“If you’ll consider the matter, my dear, I think you’ll see that marriage to me will assure you of the position, the status, you deserve.”
Jason studied her face, then continued, his words softly seductive. “I need you far more than the Lesters, Lenore.” A little staggered by how truthful he was being, he quickly added, “Besides the Abbey, which, God knows, is large enough to house a brigade and frequently does, there’s the London houses, as well as minor estates in Leicestershire, Northumberland and Cornwall.”
Her gaze abstracted, a frown tangling her brows, Lenore shifted restlessly, casting a troubled glance up at him. “I can understand why your aunts wish you to wed, Your Grace.”
“Jason.” Jason paused, then carefully played his trump card. “Besides, you wouldn’t want to destroy your father’s peace of mind.” Instantly, he knew he had struck true. Lenore looked up, her expression revealing her suspicions. Relentlessly, Jason pressed his advantage home, his eyes, deadly serious, holding hers. “My offer lifted a great weight from his shoulders. He has worried about you, and your future, for years. From what he let fall, our betrothal will greatly ease your aunt’s mind, too. Apparently, she’s felt responsible for your state, imagining herself to have failed in imbuing you with suitable sentiments.”
“No!” Lenore was appalled. Vehemently, she shook her head. “I decided what I wanted to do. It was no fault of theirs.”
“That may be so, but you cannot deny their concern for your welfare.”
“But…” Raising a hand to brush back a wisp of hair, Lenore felt the web of her situation closing about her. Distractedly she looked up, into the calm of Eversleigh’s eyes.
Moved by an emotion she was not at all pleased to have to acknowledge, invoked by the helpless look in her eyes, Jason, with the greatest reluctance, chanced his all on one last throw. “My dear, if you can give me one sane, rational reason why we should not wed, I’ll do what I can to dissolve our betrothal.”
Lenore’s mind jumped at the offer, even if her emotions lagged behind. Her eyes brightened, only to dim as the truth of her position sank in. She stared up into his eyes, confirming that the offer was indeed genuine, that he was giving her an opportunity to save her heart.
She couldn’t take it.
No lady or gentleman of her class would consider her fear of being hurt, of giving and receiving nothing in return, her very fear of loving, to be a sane and rational reason, not in any circumstances. And how could she dash her father’s joy? For she had seen it clearly, had not needed Eversleigh to tell her how proud and relieved her parent had been. There was, as she had feared in the dark of last night, no escape.
Swallowing, Lenore allowed the past to slip away, jettisoning her image of her future and, knowing there was no alternative, she allowed his image to fill the void. Dropping her gaze, she stared at her linked hands. “I have no reason to advance, Your Grace.”
She missed the sudden easing of tension in Jason’s shoulders as he let out the breath he had been holding. “Jason,” he corrected softly. Her reluctance, he knew, stemmed from some peculiar female fear. He would lay it to rest—once she was his.
Lenore looked up, then, slowly, inclined her head, letting her lashes fall. “Jason.”
For a moment, all was still. No sound broke the silence bar the cooing of doves from beneath the window and the shrill call of starlings in the cherry tree. Lenore felt the odd tension that held them. Nervous of where it might lead, she shook her shoulders and straightened, raising her head to look out of the window once more. “Given that it seems we are to wed, Your Grace—Jason,” she amended, “I would like to know what you expect of me—precisely why you have determined that I am to be the next Duchess of Eversleigh.”
Jason frowned. “I’m certain you’ll fulfil the demands of that role admirably, my dear.”
“Be that as it may, I should like to know precisely what duties you believe that role to encompass.” Lenore kept her gaze on the cherry tree, knowing without looking that he was wearing his forbidding expression.
Jason eyed her profile. He did not like her question but relief at her acceptance of his suit prompted him to answer. Having considered the matter so frequently in recent days, his reasons for marriage were crystal-clear in his mind. He omitted his first stipulation. After their interlude of the previous afternoon, he needed no further confirmation of her state. Only a virgin could have responded so…so… Ab
ruptly, he hauled his mind away from that track. “As a wife, I need a woman of breeding who can act as my hostess, someone with the requisite talents and experience to run a large household and to officiate at both formal and large family gatherings.” Jason forced himself to step back, leaning against the window-frame, folding his arms against temptation. “I do not need a giddy miss, more intent on her own enjoyment than solicitous of her guests’ welfare. You, on the other hand, have impeccable credentials in that area.”
Lenore inclined her head. “What sort of entertainments do you generally hold at the Abbey?”
Jason told her, watching her reactions, elaborating freely when he saw she was inclined to interest. After outlining the huge family gatherings held at Christmas and occasionally in summer, and the numerous estate and country events held in the house or grounds, he described the Abbey in more detail, the number of guest-chambers and reception-rooms, the current levels of staffing, as far as he remembered them. Lenore asked questions, which he answered as best he could, eventually admitting, “The Abbey has been without a chatelaine for more than ten years. You’ll find much that needs your attention.”
Lenore eyed him straightly. “And I’ll have a free hand in all household matters?”
A charming smile answered her. “I’ll leave all such affairs in your capable hands. My steward, Hemmings, and my secretary, Compton, will assist you as you desire. The management of estate business, however, will remain in my hands.”
Graciously, Lenore inclined her head. “I have no wish to interfere in such areas. Tell me, do you have any schemes for assisting your labourers, your tenants and their families?”
Jason shook his head. “As I said, you’ll find much to keep you occupied. Without a lady of the house to oversee such enterprises, they tend to be put aside.”
“But I’d have your support to institute such measures as I felt were justified?”
“Provided they met with my approval.”
Lenore studied him, then decided the caveat was acceptable. Nodding, she broached the subject on which she expected less success. “Will you expect me to spend much time in London?”
Despite her even tone, Jason detected her unease. He remembered their discussion in the maze; she did not expect to enjoy life in London. The fact should have cemented his triumph. Instead, to his surprise, he heard himself say, “I usually spend all of the Season and the Little Season in town. While I would not wish you to remain at Eversleigh House if I was not in residence, I’d urge you to experience life in the capital before you turn your back on it.” He saw her eyes cloud and hastened to add, “However, if, after you’ve tried them, you find the balls and parties not to your taste, I’ll raise no demur to your remaining principally at the Abbey, provided you agree to journey to London should I require your presence.” He made the concession with reluctance, hoping very much that she would find sufficient interest in the hurly-burly of ton-ish entertainments to keep her by his side.