“Very well, if you must. First . . .” He raised his hand, ticking off his answers on his fingers. “You are much too beautiful.”
She stared. “Your desire was to marry an ugly woman?”
“Not hideous, you understand. She would have to be pleasant enough in appearance that it wouldn’t be a chore to . . . um . . . look at her daily. But truly stunning women require too much time and effort. It’s tiring to be continually paying compliments and fending off admirers.”
“Of course it would be.” Laura rolled her eyes. “But I’m not stunning.”
“There. Already you’re fishing for compliments. You see what I mean about beauties?”
“I’m not asking for compliments!” Laura protested, flushing.
“Anyway, you haven’t a say in it. It was my ideal.”
“Very well. So we have a modicum of looks. What are your other requirements?”
“She’d have to come from good lineage. The purpose, after all, is to have an heir. So no mad uncles or ancestors who were hanged or burned at the stake.”
“What about one who lost his head on the block in the Tower of London?”
“That might be acceptable,” he allowed. “It would mean he was an aristocrat even if a traitor.”
“Mm. Or unlucky enough to be married to a king.”
“Precisely.”
“What next?”
“Money would not be a necessity, though it would be better if she knew how to deal with it. Good taste, obviously. An ability to converse and to navigate the social waters. Pleasant. Competent to manage a household. Able to handle her social obligations, but not a social butterfly.”
“Because that would be too tiring, too?”
He smiled faintly, but shook his head. “No. Because I would hope she would spend much of her time with her children.”
“Love would play no part in your perfect marriage?”
“I doubt I could find any woman who could meet that requirement. I am not a man given to tender emotions nor one who inspires them.” He shrugged. “Love has always seemed a foolish thing to me.”
“More trouble than it’s worth.”
“Exactly. What I would hope for in a marriage is a mutual understanding, I suppose. A lack of antagonism and drama and obsession. Marriage should be like a business arrangement.”
Laura sighed. “I pity the poor woman who would be your wife.”
“Ah, but, you see, you are that woman.”
Laura had to laugh. “Yes, I suppose I am.” She paused. “Did you really marry me to thwart your family?”
“I meant it when I said I wished to leave Demosthenes in your care. I have other animals—my horses, the hounds. And over the years I have acquired many objects of beauty. I hate to leave them in the care of my siblings.”
“But I am practically a stranger to you.”
“I know that you will be fair. You will be kind. You’ll have an appreciation for the things I’ve acquired. It will all be safe in your hands. And that is what matters.”
Because of Laura’s frequent stops, they did not arrive at James’s home until almost dusk. As they passed beneath the shadows of the lime trees lining either side of the drive, the dog suddenly popped up to a sitting position, his ears twitching forward.
“Yes, Dem, we’re home.”
Demosthenes pressed against the side of the carriage, sticking his great head out the window. On the other side, Laura unashamedly did the same, though she did not sniff the air, only looked for the first sight of the house.
“You’ve not seen Grace Hill before?”
Laura shook her head. “No, we never drove over here the times I visited Lady Mirabelle. Ohh . . .” She let out a sigh of appreciation as the road curved and the house came into view.
Impressively wide and tall, it was built of sandstone blocks varying in shade from tan to rose to a dusky salmon. Its symmetrical lines and sharply peaked gables were softened by a rounded tower and narrow tall trees that flanked it on either side. A whimsical cupola topped the edifice, its copper roof tarnished to a patina of bluish green. Flowers grew around the house in all directions, buffered by dark green, neatly trimmed hedges.
“It’s beautiful,” Laura breathed, turning to James.
“I’m glad you like it.” For once his smile was not colored by irony or condescension. “Wait until you see the gardens in back.”
Dem was out of the carriage as soon as James opened the door. He released a few thunderous barks and raced across the lawn and back before calming down and returning to trot along beside them.
Their arrival surprised the footman, and even the imperturbable butler was taken aback when James introduced Laura as his bride. Simpson recovered enough to tell James that the family had gathered for dinner in what he termed “the blue room.” Then he hurried toward the kitchen, Demosthenes trotting after him.