The Accidental Countess (The Aristocrat Diaries 3)

I’d thought about it so much that if you looked closely enough, his words were actually burnt into the inner side of my eyelids.

It was insane. So insane that I couldn’t even text Adelaide about it, and believe me, I’d tried. I told her everything, but this seemed so wild that she would think I was messing with her.

I, obviously, would not be.

Not that it made this any easier.

What was I doing?

I was seriously considering his offer, that’s what.

I couldn’t bear it if my parents lost the hotel. It’d been my home for my entire life, and I knew what it meant to my mum. She could have asked my uncle to help out, and I knew he would—he was a multi-millionaire duke, for goodness’ sake—but her pride got in the way. After all, she’d married my dad when everyone had told her not to, and she was terrified of proving them right when they’d told her it would all go down in flames.

Sod our classist society, let me tell you that.

I had the feeling that Matthew’s proposal was the last chance to save the hotel. And if it were down to me…

Oh, God.

I’d lost my mind.

“You’re staring, Evangeline.”

I pursed my lips. “You know I’m only called that when someone is annoyed at me.”

Matthew peered at me out of the corner of his eyes. “I’m sorry. Eva.”

“That’s better, thank you. How long do we have before check out?”

He glanced at his watch. “Forty-five minutes. Why do you ask?”

Because I needed to know if I had enough time to really show my craziness.

I patted the bed. “Sit.”

He put down his tie and sat, shifting his body to face me. “What’s up?”

“What you asked me yesterday,” I said slowly. “I have some questions.”

“All right. I’ll do my best to answer them.”

“You said that the reason behind it is so you can have an heir. Well, that’s a pretty specific reason. Have you considered what will happen if we get married and I don’t get pregnant? Or I can’t get pregnant? Then what happens?”

He nodded slowly. “That’s a good point. No, I hadn’t considered it, but now that you’ve brought it up, I suppose one option is to get some fertility testing before anything is agreed for real.”

I blinked at him.

“For both of us, Eva. After all, it takes two, doesn’t it? I wouldn’t make you do anything I wouldn’t be comfortable doing myself.”

“Except childbirth.”

“Aren’t there drugs to help with that?”

Excellent point.

“I suppose so,” I mused. “So we get tested and everything is fine, we move ahead, but it still doesn’t happen. Then what do we do?”

“The semantics of it could be worked out, but I would assume that if you didn’t get pregnant after a certain amount of time, we could follow the same path as other couples and attempt IVF.”

“And if that failed?”

“If, after five years, we haven’t had a baby or we’ve had, say, two girls, then we would proceed to divorce, and I would ensure that you’re looked after the same way I would if we were to have a boy. Unless you ever lost your mind and got married for real, of course, then I would only provide for the children. And, naturally, you’d retain the courtesy title of Countess of Anglesey unless you re-married.”

“Without the all important ‘The’ in front of it.”

“Without the all important ‘The,’” he replied, lips twitching.

I sighed. “So no matter what happens, my parents’ hotel is saved, and you’ll make sure I’m taken care of.”

He nodded. “Exactly. I’m not unreasonable, Eva, and I understand there’s a chance I might not get what I need from this. But we’re both still young, and if fertility tests show that we’re both more than capable of having a baby, I don’t see that there’d be any problems.” He leaned over and wrapped his fingers around mine. “You don’t have to say yes, you know, and you don’t have to answer it right now. Take as long as you need to make this decision. Honestly, I don’t think I ever should have asked you—it’s too much.”

I looked down at our hands and took a deep breath. His hand was so much larger than mine—a shade or two darker, and his skin was rougher and a little edgier.

He was right, of course.

He never should have asked me.

It was too much.

Matthew was asking far too much of me—it wasn’t just a fleeting moment. It was a request to give up my life to continue a legacy that didn’t matter a bit to me.

So why did I want to say yes?

Why was I seriously considering saying yes?

“I’m all packed, so I’ll leave now.” He squeezed my hand and released it. “I’ll see you soon, Eva. If you want to.”

I sighed, looking away from him. I stared at the curtains, tracing the pattern with my gaze, and gripped the bed covers.