‘Here you are.’
‘Thank you, Miss Harper.’
He raised the glass, though his eyes remained fixed on hers. They were an intense shade of amber, she noticed, the same colour as the liquid in his glass, as if each was reflecting the other. Quickly, she retreated back to the sofa.
‘To answer your question, then—’ he peered at her over the rim ‘—I knew that our fathers had come to an agreement about you marrying Arthur, though I never knew the exact details of the will. I certainly never imagined it would apply to me, too. I believe we discovered the truth about that on the same day. I took the news marginally better, of course, but it was still quite a shock, I assure you.’
‘So you knew a while ago?’
‘Yes.’
‘At the ball?’
‘That was the night I found out.’
‘And your brother?’ She sat very still, forcing the question past dry lips. ‘Did he know about it then, too?’
‘Yes.’ He paused briefly before continuing. ‘He was the one who told me.’
‘Oh.’ She closed her eyes, head spinning with all the implications of his words. If Arthur had known about the marriage agreement at the ball, then surely it explained his strange behaviour towards her. In which case, his despair must have had something to do with marrying her, too... As if the idea of it had been so truly appalling. As if she were as strange and unattractive as she’d always been told.
‘So he knew all along...’ She forced her eyelids open again, struck with a deep sense of despondency. ‘Why did you have to come after me? Why can’t you just let me go?’
‘Isn’t it obvious?’
Yes. Her stomach plummeted. Of course it was obvious. It was just as her father had said, the only reason any man would want to marry her...
‘Because of the money?’
‘Because of the money.’ He repeated the words softly. ‘My father agreed to this bizarre arrangement because the estate needed money. It still does.’
‘So you’re just as mercenary as he was?’ She didn’t bother to hide her contempt, but he only shrugged.
‘I prefer to think of myself as pragmatic. As I’m sure you’ve heard, my career as a soldier recently came to an abrupt and unfortunately irreversible end. I returned home without any means to support myself and to find my inheritance close to ruin. Your fortune presented itself at a most opportune juncture.’
‘So that’s all I am, then, an opportunity?’
He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. ‘I’ll do you the courtesy of not sugar-coating the truth, Miss Harper. My father threw me out of this house, if you recall, without so much as a penny. He told me to make my own way in the world and I was glad, even eager, to do so. Unfortunately, as it transpired, my way was the wrong way. I made a mess of everything and now there’s no way for me to put it right. There’s no way for me to reconcile with my family either, but I still feel the need to make amends to my father, to save the estate if I can.’
‘I don’t care about your estate.’
‘But your father did. He was just as mercenary as mine, only in his case he was appropriating the land and title. He might have intended for you to marry Arthur, but I’m the one that you’ve got.’
‘That was a mistake. He would never have wanted me to marry you. He detested you.’
‘Then I’m curious to know why he didn’t alter his will?’
‘I’m sure he would have if he’d known.’
His face paled visibly. ‘He didn’t know about Arthur?’
‘No. He was sick when it happened so I never told him. If I had...’
‘If you had, then neither of us would be in this situation.’ A muscle jumped in his jaw. ‘But it still
doesn’t change anything. We’re both of us bound by the terms of the will. You can either marry me or be destitute. I admit that the bargain works in my favour, but for the sake of my conscience, as well as my bank balance, I’d prefer that you choose the former.’
‘If you had a conscience, then you’d let me go.’ She wasn’t going to sugar-coat the truth either. ‘How many times do I have to say that I don’t want to marry you? You’re a drunk!’