A Momentary Marriage(12)

Laura stared. “You paid that debt?”

“I can hardly have my wife owing money all over the countryside.”

“You did it before you knew whether I would accept your proposal.” The thought of his generosity warmed her.

“It would have been a handy lever in case you refused.”

“So you intended to use it to coerce my agreement.”

“Only if it was necessary.” He quirked a brow. “Come, come, Miss Hinsdale. The fact that I’m dying doesn’t mean I’m virtuous.”

Laura grimaced. “Well, at least you make it less upsetting to watch you die.”

“Indeed. You might even come to enjoy it.” He turned aside without waiting for her response. “I shall leave Dem with you.” At the mention of his name, the dog came to his feet and padded across the room. James’s face softened fractionally. “No, boy, you’re staying here. You must look after Miss Hinsdale.” James reached out and took Laura’s hand, startling her. He placed it atop the dog’s blocky head, covering her hand with his own. “Guard her, Dem. She is ours now.”

Laura stood perfectly still. His words sent the oddest sensation through her. She kept her gaze on the dog, unable to look into James’s face. She wasn’t sure what she feared he would see there, but with James, it was wise not to give anything away.

“Good day, Miss Hinsdale. I shall see you later this afternoon.” With a perfunctory nod, James turned and left the room.

“Well.” Laura felt numb and strangely removed.

It had unsettled her to notice how attractive James was. She wasn’t sure why, exactly; perhaps it made him a person instead of a conveniently featureless villain from her past. A real person whose eyes could dance with amusement, whose thick black lashes could make a woman sigh with envy . . . or desire.

One would assume illness would mar his looks, but instead, the lines of pain and the shadows beneath his eyes had softened the cold perfection of his features, and though he was much thinner than he should be, that had only heightened the soaring cheekbones. It was as if the disease had burned away any softening layers, leaving behind only the fierce beauty of bone and skin.

But it was not his looks that left her troubled, nor her unexpected involuntary reaction to them. It wasn’t even the odd way he had taken her hand and told Dem she belonged to them. No, the problem was she had betrayed her beliefs.

Laura had sworn she would marry for love, not position or wealth or even companionship. When that dream was thwarted eleven years ago, she had resigned herself to life as a spinster. Over the years, even as her youthful passion faded, she had clung to the idea that she could marry only for love.

Yet here she was, tying herself to a man with barely a flicker of consideration in order to secure a comfortable life for herself. Oh, she could defend her decision. She was not deceiving James by pretending she loved him. Nor was she selling her body; he had promised her that, and however she felt about James, she was certain he would keep his word. It was a bargain, pure and simple, and eminently practical on both sides.

Still, it was lowering to acknowledge that she was marrying for pragmatic reasons, not love. But when she thought of the alternative—a life spent scrabbling to make ends meet, burdened with her father’s debts, and always at the beck and call of others—she knew that if given the choice again, she would do the same thing. She had made a bargain, and not with the devil, only with an annoying man. All she could do now was get on with it.

Laura turned and found herself facing the giant dog. Demosthenes sat in the middle of the hall, regarding her patiently. She felt a twinge of unease at being alone with the animal. He could snap her arm with a single bite. At the same time, his presence was reassuring. She need not worry about Sid Merton today.

Returning to the kitchen, Demosthenes at her heels, she picked up the coin purse James had left for her. She could hire Mrs. Mitchell, their sometime housekeeper, to help her pack. Laura opened the purse, and her jaw dropped.

Obviously she and Sir James had vastly different ideas of what was meant by “a bit of money.” She could hire a host of helpers with these coins, as well as pay off her accounts at the butcher’s and apothecary. She felt vaguely guilty about accepting so much money from him.

But tomorrow she would be his wife—that thought set up a fluttering in her stomach—so it was only practical to use his money today to take care of necessary tasks. Laura could well imagine James’s biting comments if he was delayed a day because of Laura’s qualms about propriety.

Laura set off on her errands, Demosthenes by her side. She hooked her hand into Dem’s collar . . . though she had no idea how she could stop the muscular dog, who must outweigh her by close to a hundred pounds, if he decided to charge off.