Married For His Convenience. Eleanor Webster
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Название: Married For His Convenience
Автор: Eleanor Webster
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Исторические любовные романы
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Damn. Sebastian crumpled the note, throwing it towards the hearth where it ignited. He watched the flame lick the paper’s edge, the fire growing in momentary strength before subsiding to ash.
Damn and blast. Did not one governess have any backbone or staying power? Did none of these women have the skills necessary to return Elizabeth to some semblance of normality?
And it was then, standing in Lord Eavensham’s library and staring at the dying flame, that had Sebastian decided.
* * *
Sarah found Lord Langford in the drawing room standing beside the unlit hearth. Although not much taller than Kit, he dominated the room and dwarfed the shabby furniture in a way her childhood friend could not.
It was not only his physical size, but his presence and the cold, controlled force of his personality.
Like a volcano under snow.
‘Lord Langford.’ She stepped towards him.
‘Good morning, Miss Martin.’ He made his bow.
‘Did you wish to see me? Or perhaps Mrs Tuttle misunderstood. I could fetch Mrs Crawford.’
‘Indeed, no. I expressly asked for you.’ He spoke in a crisp, authoritative tone.
‘Oh.’ A shiver of nervousness tingled through her. ‘Pray be seated.’
They both sat. Sarah felt stiff, as if her arms and legs had lost fluidity. It had been easier to talk to him while rescuing Albert, as though the very oddness of their occupation had made social conventions unnecessary.
She rubbed her hands together. They made a chafing sandpaper sound, emphasising the chill silence of the room.
‘May I offer you refreshment?’ she asked belatedly.
‘No, thank you. Indeed, I will get straight to the point.’
‘Please do.’ She exhaled with relief. ‘I much prefer blunt speech.’
He straightened his shoulders and shifted to face her more squarely as though putting his mind to an unpleasant task.
‘Miss Martin, I need—May I have the honour of your hand in marriage?’
Sarah gaped. Her jaw hung loose. Her eyes widened and her breath left her body in a winded gasp.
For a moment, her brain could not make sense of his words as though he had spoken German or another foreign tongue.
Then she understood.
Anger flashed through her, hot and powerful. She bounded to her feet, her cheeks heated and her hands balled with fury. ‘My lord, I am not without pride and I will not allow you to make sport of me.’
He stood also. ‘Miss Martin, I am quite serious and never make sport.’
She stilled. ‘Then you are mad.’
‘I do not believe so. Lunacy does not run in my family.’ He paused, his expression suddenly bleak. ‘I hope.’
‘You expect me to believe that you are serious?’
‘I seldom have expectations, but I assure you that I am serious,’ he said.
She stared at him, taking in his even features, the dark grey eyes flecked with green, the dark sweep of hair across his forehead and the firm jaw. There was nothing about him to hint at madness or jest.
Turning, she rubbed her fingers along the mantel, studying their outline against the wood’s grain as she tried to marshal her thoughts.
The clock ticked.
‘If you are neither mad nor making sport of me,’ she said at length, ‘you must have a reason.’
‘I need someone to look after Elizabeth.’
‘For which one employs a governess.’
‘They have a habit of leaving,’ he said.
‘Marriage seems a somewhat extreme action to ensure continuity of staff.’
‘It does,’ he said.
She raised her brows.
‘My daughter is...quiet.’
‘A quality generally admired in children.’
He did not answer for a moment and when he did, his words were slow as though reluctantly drawn from him. ‘She hasn’t spoken a word in six months. They find Elizabeth’s silence unnerving. She also rocks her body and, according to my housekeeper, has now taken to riding on the rocking horse in a compulsive manner.’
‘I am sorry. Is she ill?’
‘I have two children,’ he answered, his voice still flat and drained of emotion. ‘Their mother chose to leave for France with them and her lover. She was subsequently executed.’
‘How awful.’
‘I presume it was for her.’
Sarah shivered at the detached tone.
‘Both children were held for ransom. I paid and my daughter, Elizabeth, was returned to me.’
‘And your son?’
‘I don’t know.’ A muscle rippled in his cheek.
Instinctively Sarah shifted towards him; the stark loneliness of his grief touched her. ‘I’m sorry.’
He nodded. They fell quiet.
She broke the silence tentatively. ‘But I still do not see why marrying me would help.’
He shrugged. ‘It probably won’t. But there is something about you—’ He paused before stating in a firmer tone, ‘You speak French.’
‘Yes. My mother taught me, but why would it matter?’
‘Elizabeth has been away from England for two years and I presume whoever cared for her spoke French.’
‘And you thought she might be more conversant in that language.’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. She has always been oddly silent.’
He paused, before continuing.
‘As well, my great-aunt Clara demands that I marry.’
‘What?’
‘My elderly aunt, СКАЧАТЬ