He shrugged. "I’m sure my dignity will survive a return to this house. After all, I lived here when I left Cambridge."
"That’s a long time ago now."
"I promise not to cause difficulties, Emily. Or no more than I can help. A husband joining the household will mean a few adjustments, I’m sure."
As they spoke, she started to appear a little more cheerful. Thank God. When he came in, she looked like she awaited a hanging. "That’s another thing. I’ve run this house for years. I would like to remain in charge."
He gave a dismissive grunt. "What the deuce do I know about housekeeping? I’ll leave domestic matters to you. I’ll make you a generous allowance, so you don’t have to run to me every time you want to buy a pound of tea." He paused. "As Lady Glen Lyon, you’ll need to take some role in society. I’ll make sure you have plenty of pin money, too. If you want a few folderols, you shall have them."
This speech left her looking uncomfortable. "You’re very generous."
He shrugged. "Not really. You’ll be my wife." He paused. "And a woman I take pride in, however this match has come about. The only way we can rise above the scandal is to behave in high style and act as if we have nothing to be ashamed of."
"We don’t."
"I know that, and you know that, but it’s a secret from the rest of London."
"Very well," she said with a nod. "Thank you."
Another silence. Not quite so thorny as the previous one. As before, Hamish broke it. "Is there more?"
"Yes." She sucked in a shaky breath and surveyed him warily as if expecting him to start rampaging about like an enraged elephant. "I’d like to continue my father’s scientific work and follow up a few projects of my own. I refuse to dwindle to a society wife, merely because I’ve agreed to marry you."
He regarded her with interest. He’d be devilish interested to hear about her projects, although perhaps not right now. "Shall I build you an observatory in the back garden?"
"You can if you like," she said with surprising sangfroid. "If that’s a serious offer."
"It is. I told you – I’m a rich man. We both have things to gain from this match."
"The light in London isn’t good for stargazing."
"Then I’ll find us a place in the country where nothing will interfere with your investigations."
She eyed him uncertainly. He had a feeling that his cooperation unsettled her, although he couldn’t for the life of him imagine why. So far, her requests had been nothing out of the ordinary. "You won’t mind having a bluestocking wife?"
He shrugged again. "I assumed you’d undertake some scholarly activity after we married. I’m not expecting the weight of a wedding ring on your finger to grind your brains to dust. Perhaps we can work on something together."
"We’d fight like cat and dog," she said on a discouraging note.
He wasn’t going to start a quarrel. Not now when he was so close to getting her agreement. "Perhaps. And perhaps we’d make a great team."
Her expression told him that suggestion was beyond the realms of possibility. "Will you put all this in writing?"
"Yes, willingly." Although her lack of faith in his word galled him.
Another silence. She looked uncomfortable, before she raised her chin and stared at him with a hint of defiance. "As you so gallantly pointed out, money is tight here these days. I’ll come to you with a small legacy from Mamma, and…later, the rights to Papa’s books, and the lease on this house. It’s not much of a dowry."
He gave a dismissive laugh. "Fie, Miss Baylor, for shame, when you led me on to believe you’re an heiress."
To his relief, a smile tugged at her lips. A small smile and a reluctant one, but better than nothing. She’d been deathly serious so far, outlining her modest demands.
"All jokes aside, it seems an unequal match."
"In worldly terms, perhaps it is, but I have plenty of money for both of us and I meant it when I called you a prize."
"You really are trying to charm me."
"If we’re to spend a lifetime together, it won’t hurt to have you on my side." He paused. "Are we to spend a lifetime together?"