Wallflower (Old Maids' Club, Book 1) (28 page)

Tabitha could do nothing but stare
slack-jawed at her cousin. Never, since that day so many years ago
when the three girls had agreed to become old maids together, had
she allowed herself to think for a moment that she would ever
marry. For over half of her life, she’d known she would never know
a man’s love. It hadn’t been something she had allowed herself to
hope for. Hope could only serve to crush her dreams and break her
heart when it frittered away.

Jo leaned over and kissed Tabitha on
the forehead in a gesture reminiscent of Tabitha’s mother. “I’ve
been thinking over these past few weeks as I’ve watched you with
Lord Devonport, and the way he is with you. I did you a great
disservice when we made our pact. You and Bethie both. I let you
believe the horrible things your father and brothers said about
you, that no man would have you if not for your money because you
were plump. I allowed Bethie to think that because she had no dowry
of which to speak, she’d never find a man to offer for her. Clearly
I was wrong about that, now that Miranda has married well and is
quite content with her lot.” Jo took a ragged breath and wiped a
tear from her own eye. “It may be too late to change things for
Bethie, now that she’s caring for Aunt Rosaline and has Finn to
look after as well. She may never have her opportunity, and I’ll
have to live with that forever. But you do, and you’re squandering
it.”

“
And what of you?” Tabitha
asked, flabbergasted. “What of your opportunity? Lord
Leith—”

Jo cut her off before she could finish
her thought. “I wanted you and Bethie to become old maids with me,
because I have always known I would be one. I will never marry. You
know I would never agree to any relationship in which I am not on
equal footing—as a partner, of sorts—not as a subservient. Lord
Leith will have to come to accept that fact.” She quirked a grin in
Tabitha’s direction. “Be honest with me, Tabby. Be honest with
yourself. You love him, don’t you?”

The answer must be in her eyes, with
the way it coursed through every pore of her body like the Thames
running to the sea. “I—”

“
If you fib again, I’ll
draw your cork.”

Time to let the truth out.

~ * ~

“
Jo pled your case with
her. I’m sure of it.” Shelton walked to the sideboard in his
father’s library and poured two glasses of some spirit. “And Father
is surely doing the same now. She’ll see reason.
Eventually.”

When Shelton returned to Noah’s side,
he reached out to offer one of the glasses. The memory of the other
night was still too fresh in Noah’s mind. He couldn’t bring himself
to even smell the liquor. Nausea inundated his system from the
memory alone; he knew his face must be a terrific shade of green.
With one hand held out, Noah shook his head.

“
More for me.” Shelton
shrugged his shoulders and then downed the extra glass in a single
swill. “So how bad a time of it did my father give you?”

“
Not as bad as I expected.
He wanted to know all the details of my current situation and how I
intend to support Tabitha. I let him know about the shipping
enterprise I looked into yesterday. That seemed to satisfy him.”
Whether it would satisfy Tabitha or not remained to be seen. “We
agreed that the bulk of her dowry will be held in trust for her and
for our children. Only a small portion will be used for our living
expenses, and that only until such time as my investment begins to
pay dividends.”

Shelton nodded. “And the rest? Did you
tell him about yesterday afternoon?”

“
Every last damning
detail.” The look on Newcastle’s face when he learned what Shelton
and Raynesford had encountered was not something Noah would soon
forget. He counted himself lucky that all three of the men in
Tabitha’s life seemed content to settle the matter through marriage
instead of drawing pistols at dawn.

Shelton let out a bark of
laughter. “You could have just told him we caught you kissing her.
You didn’t need to tell him
everything
.”

“
I didn’t know how much he
had already been told. I couldn’t take the risk that he knew more
than I wished to divulge.” That was not the way Noah wanted to
begin this new stage in their relationship. His future
father-in-law deserved the truth, despite how exceedingly
uncomfortable it was to deliver.

“
So how soon will the
blessed event take place? Should I plan a visit to Doctor’s
Commons?”

“
That won’t be necessary,”
Noah replied. “Newcastle agreed that rushing through things with a
special license would only raise speculation when no one knows what
happened outside of family and Lord Leith. He believes Leith will
keep our confidence. Also, Mother and Glastonbury’s wedding will
take place in only three days’ time. As long as Tabitha consents to
the timing, we’ll have the banns called on Sunday, and then have a
formal announcement to the
ton
at the wedding breakfast.”

“
As long as Tabitha
consents?” Shelton repeated in a disdainful tone. “You have to
convince her to consent. I like you, Devonport, I truly do. You’re
a good man. You’ll be very good for Tabitha—I’ve thought that all
along. You see her for herself. I’d hazard a guess that you’ve even
come to love her. I don’t want to hurt you. Don’t force me to.
Convince her.”

“
Point taken.” Noah
glanced over to the clock on the opposite wall. Newcastle had left
to speak to Tabitha more than an hour ago, and still neither of
them had returned. He was growing more and more restless by the
moment.

Shelton followed Noah’s gaze. “I’m
sure it won’t be much longer. There are only so many ways Father
can say ‘Do it or else.’ Which should help your cause in convincing
her.”

This was torture—unadulterated,
unmitigated, and unqualified torture. He’d wanted to persuade
Tabitha to marry him of his own merits, not have her hand forced in
the matter. Of all the manners in which to start out his marriage,
Noah could think of none he would have preferred less than the one
he was currently facing.

Finally, a soft tick sounded as the
door opened. Noah rose abruptly as Tabitha stood hesitant at the
threshold.

“
I’ll just leave you two
to it then.” Shelton slipped out of the room, stopping for a moment
to kiss his sister on her forehead. When he scooted her along until
she was inside the library, she passed him a deathly glare. Shelton
winked at Noah and then pulled the doors closed behind
him.

Late afternoon sunlight poured through
the windows and landed upon Tabitha, bathing her in a warm,
ethereal glow that only enhanced the peachy tone of both her gown
and her skin. The image of her naked in a pool of the sun’s rays
formed unbidden in his mind, her perfect, rounded breasts awash in
a golden aura. Noah’s breath hitched; his pulse made a mad dash
through his veins, like the galloping clop of Perceval’s hooves
when given his head.

For the first time in his life, he
understood what Shakespeare had been thinking and seeing when he
wrote about his beloved being more lovely and temperate than a
summer’s day.

Noah started to cross the room to her,
but Tabitha stayed him with a brief shake of the head. “Have a
seat, Lord Devonport.” She situated herself in a leather armchair
positioned off on its own, eliminating his chance to seat her
beside him on the sofa.

Perhaps he could convince her to join
him in a moment. He took up that station in the hope that he’d have
just such an opportunity. “Tabitha—”

“
Lady
Tabitha, my lord.”

Surely they’d come far past such
formalities by now. She would be his wife before the month was out,
by which time she’d be Lady Devonport, anyway, and not Lady
Tabitha. Still, now was not the time to split hairs. He started
again with, “Lady Tabitha—”

“
I see no reason to beat
around the bush,” she interrupted him again.

Tabitha folded her hands together on
her lap in the manner of an overly prim and proper governess, much
like Miss Stroud who had instructed his sisters. He’d always
thought of her as Miss Stout, however—stout and stalwart. The only
thing Tabitha lacked was the dismal gray worsted gown and starchy
white mobcap atop her head. Thank God she’d neglected to don such
terrible garments. He might never have removed the image from his
mind, otherwise.

“
Let’s get straight to the
point, shall we? You’re here to propose.”

Very well. Two could play her game.
“Indeed. As you’re here to accept.”

“
That remains to be seen.
I want to know how you intend to support me.”

By gad. “I’ve already discussed all of
the arrangements with your father. We’ve agreed on the terms of the
marriage contract. I can assure you, everything is in
order.”

Tabitha arched an eyebrow
at him in the same manner her brothers seemed to have
refined—somehow both dubious and authoritative at the same time.
“That is all very well and good, sir. But my father is not the one
who may
or may not
be standing before an altar next to you and promising to love
and obey. Perhaps it would behoove you to share such details with
the lady in question.”

Noah shifted uncomfortably on the
sofa. He’d never discussed financial matters with a lady before. It
was a gentleman’s responsibility to the ladies in his life to
manage such things. His father had stressed the importance of never
allowing the women in the family to know if there were monetary
concerns, as it was nothing they should ever be forced to worry
about.

But Tabitha was not his mother or one
of his sisters. She was the lady he intended to marry. She deserved
to know everything, and clearly she would settle for no
less.

He took a breath and started. “I’ve
made arrangements with my man of business to invest in a shipping
enterprise. Most of the funds left to the Devonport marquessate
will be tied up in this endeavor. As such, we—you and I—will use a
small portion of your dowry for our day-to-day needs until the time
that my investment can provide for those expenses.”

Crossing her arms over her chest and
pushing up that glorious bosom, she asked, “How much?”

“
Pardon?” Noah was having
difficulty taking his eyes from the lovely display she had just
enhanced and focusing on the conversation. Gradually, he forced his
gaze to return to her face.

She frowned. “If I do agree to marry
you, how much of my dowry will be used for this
purpose?”

“
Oh. Right. Twenty
percent.” Swallowing had become rather difficult, after thinking of
all the things he wanted to do with her breasts.

“
And the remainder?”
Tabitha licked her lips, an unconscious gesture, and Noah thought
he might have to sit on his hands to keep them from her
person.

“
Thirty percent will be
placed in a trust for you. The other fifty percent will be placed
in trust for our future children. Once the dividends from my
investment can support us, I will return that twenty percent to the
children’s trust.”

“
And if your investment
fares poorly?”

He hadn’t wanted to think of such a
prospect. Indeed, Lord Newcastle had not even troubled to ask such
a question. He couldn’t just make up an answer on the spot. He
couldn’t lie to her. “I don’t know,” he answered.

Tabitha’s lovely silver eyes widened
nearly to the size of a teacup. “You don’t know? What do you mean
you don’t know?”

“
I mean I haven’t thought
that far ahead. You’re right in that it could happen. If it comes
to pass, then I suppose we’ll just have to figure things out from
there.”

“
Am I to interpret this
‘we’ to mean yourself and my father? Or perhaps my brothers?” Her
tone had gone from imperious to sardonic.

“
No. By ‘we,’ I meant you
and me. Because, as you were so kind as to mention earlier, you are
the one who will be standing across from me at the altar, promising
to love and obey me, not your father or brothers.”

“
Might,” she
insisted.

“
Will,” he
corrected.

Tabitha narrowed her eyes shrewdly at
him, but refrained from countering him again. “You would allow me
to assist in making such decisions? That is hardly
conventional.”

“
I suppose it isn’t. But
yes, I think you should play a role in determining our
future.”

“
So if I were to suggest
that forty percent of my dowry ought to be held out instead of
twenty, and half of it should be used to increase the profits drawn
from your current properties, how would you respond?” She held out
her hands and pretended to inspect her fingernails in a nonchalant
manner. “Hypothetically speaking, of course. This would all be
dependent upon my acceptance of your proposal. Which, I might
remind you, is not a foregone conclusion. Particularly since you’ve
yet to actually propose.”

Noah couldn’t hold back his smile. Her
demeanor—previously akin to an arctic frost—was beginning to thaw.
Perhaps discussing these matters with her, as an equal, was just
what she needed in order to go along with the marriage willingly.
“If you were to suggest such a thing—hypothetically—I would gladly
go to your father to negotiate a change to the marriage contract.
Right away, in fact.” He started to rise to prove his
willingness.