When the Earl Met His Match (Wedded by Scandal 4)

“Yes.”

I am desirous of a wife with your background. I intend to move to England soon, where I will spend several months there out of each year. As it were, this will be a come out of sorts, but for my entire family.

Her lips parted, and her throat worked on a swallow. “I did travel here because I hoped we could be of mutual benefit to each other.”

He canted his head. A marriage of convenience?

“Precisely, my lord.”

I overheard some of your remarks to your maidservant. I gather you doubt such mutual benefit is possible. Why have you changed your thoughts?

She sent him a look of cool caution. “Eavesdropping is not the mark of a gentleman, Viscount Huxley.”

I am admonished.

Her lips twitched imperceptibly.

Why are you here, what do you want, and why did you risk your reputation to flee to me? Those questions had been swirling through his thoughts since he realized his unexpected visitor was her. He reached for another sheaf of paper and wrote, What did you hope from this arrangement when you made your way here?

Her lashes swept down across her cheekbones, hiding her expression from him. It took a few beats before she fixed her eyes on his face again. Her expression was a fierce mix of vulnerability, hope, fear, and pride. A breath shuddered from her as she evidently worked to master the emotions that battered her.

“Safety…security…” Her lips smiled, though it did not reach her eyes, which held a sheen of tears. “And, dare I hope, to live my life happily.”

And in that softly echoed statement, he’d felt a moment of affinity…a connection of sorts.

A deep desire that had been embedded into his heart after his mother left. For months, it had hurt to feel so unwanted by his mother. Seeing her walk away from their country home, mount the steps into her elegant carriage, and drive away without looking back once had been agonizing. He’d spent several months praying that one day she would return…for him and his sister and brother and his father’s sake. With the end of each day, he’d loathed himself when she never returned, though the very next day, he would resume his vigil on the lawns with his binoculars.

His mother had been like the sun, and with her departure, she had left behind darkness and such sorrow. Hugh hadn’t been able to imagine that his father would ever smile again. It had hurt so much, he dropped to his knees and screamed his pains and fear. Still, she hadn’t returned. That excessive display of emotions and regret had only revealed a weakness in him.

“What do you want from life, my boy?” his father had demanded once.

“I would like to live happily, Father.” He’d been eleven years of age when he’d made that vow while staring at the stars.

For so long, everything had been somber, until a deep need to stop being morose and be happy permeated his entire being.

His father had replied, “Happiness lies in your wealth, position, and power within society. Do not forget it.”

I believe a connection between us could be mutually advantageous, Lady Phoebe.

A flare of hope brightened her eyes, yet she hesitated. “I…regrettably, that is no longer possible.”

Why?

“I never expected you to be a future earl.”

How curious. The teachings from his father indicated that every young lady in society desired to marry a man of rank and fortune. Hugh wondered with some amusement if she realized her error upon discovering his muteness. The very notion of this had a strange pain pinching in his heart, visceral enough where he rubbed his chest as if it were a physical ache. The anomaly of feeling such discomfort when he learned years ago to be uncaring of others’ opinions had him carefully choosing his next words.

You do not wish to enter a marriage with a man with a title?

She raised a hand to brush a loose strand of hair from her face. He noted that her fingers still trembled despite his earlier efforts to make her relax. The lady was very frightened indeed and was doing her utmost best to appear unflappable.

“I believed a man with little connections would be more willing to marry me. From the tone of your letters, what seemed important was a wife with influential connections, not her beauty, her wealth, and certainly not sentiments. Knowing that, I thought…I hoped my current circumstances could be accepted, even when I knew in my heart it was unlikely any gentleman could overlook it.”

And yet she was here. She’d either acted with foolhardiness or bravery, but her actions surely revealed the depth of her desperation.

I gather you no longer believe love to be an important matter in a marriage.

Her eyes darkened, and her chin tilted even higher. “Love is for fools.”