CHAPTER 12
Oscar regarded Clara for a long, astonished beat, as if the notion that a person under four feet tall might thwart his will was news to him. He then shifted his attention to Henry, who had not relinquished his grip on Nancy’s skirts, and finally to Nancy herself, searching her face for any sign of complicity. Nancy offered him the blandest of smiles.
Oscar composed himself. “I wouldn’t dream of taking her away from you, Clara,” he said.
“Good.” Clara released her hold, satisfied, and took a step back with the air of a victorious general. Henry’s hand lingered, his grip slackening by degrees, as if he needed confirmation that Nancy would not disappear in the instant he looked away.
Nancy crouched, putting herself on level with the twins. “I will only be a moment. I am in no danger,” she said, giving Henry’s hand a reassuring squeeze.
Henry regarded Oscar for a moment, wary, but then nodded. Clara, intent on supervising the proceedings, stationed herself at the nearest settee with a view of both Nancy and Oscar, as if she’d appointed herself chaperone.
Oscar inclined his head toward the hallway, and Nancy followed him through a set of double doors into the study. The room was unchanged from her last visit; every book, every decanter, every scrap of paper precisely where it belonged. Yet the air felt different, charged with the knowledge that nothing about either of them would ever be the same again.
He closed the door behind them with a click, then leaned back against it, his arms folded, as if blocking her escape was a matter of simple physics.
Nancy raised an eyebrow. “Is this an interrogation or an abduction?”
He smiled, slow and deliberate. “Neither. I simply wished to speak to you without an audience.” He scanned her, starting with the pearls at her throat and ending at the tips of her shoes. His gaze paused on the minute, painstakingly arranged flowers woven through her hair. A corner of his mouth ticked up. “You appear to have survived the ordeal.”
Nancy matched his scrutiny, tilting her head to study him in return. “So far. I cannot say the same for you.”
He uncrossed his arms and came closer. “You sound remarkably calm for a woman whose fate has just been sealed.”
“I have had days to prepare. Surely you, of all people, appreciate the power of forethought.”
Oscar’s gaze met hers, dark blue and searching. He circled around the desk—his natural fortress, Nancy noted—and waited for her to take the guest chair.
She remained standing. “If you are going to interrogate me, I would prefer to remain on my feet.”
He acquiesced, leaning against the corner of the desk, arms still crossed, feet planted. “Very well. Shall we commence the formal exchange of terms?”
“If you like,” Nancy said, “though I was under the impression we agreed on those already.”
Oscar considered her, then said, “I am a creature of habit. Humor me.”
Nancy folded her hands behind her back and met him stare for stare.
Oscar began, “This is an arrangement. I trust that remains your understanding?”
“Crystal clear,” Nancy replied. “You wish to avoid being a true uncle; I wish to avoid infanticide by neglect. We are in perfect accord.”
He continued, “For the sake of appearances, we will share a household for two months, or until the twins have acclimated. After that, we may live separately, provided we fulfill public duties as required.”
Nancy’s pulse quickened, not because the terms surprised her, but because Oscar had a way of making even the word “acclimated” sound indecent.
He pressed on. “After the stipulated period, I shall make arrangements for a house for you and the twins. I will provide adequately for you all, and Clara will have a handsome dowry when she comes of age.”
Nancy nodded. “So far, this is entirely as advertised.”
Oscar shifted, uncrossing his arms and placing his palms flat on the desk behind him. “I have only one additional requirement.”
She waited, steeling herself.
He said, “You are a duchess now. I expect you to perform the role flawlessly.”
Nancy felt heat creep up her neck. “If you are implying I require training in etiquette?—”
He cut her off. “Not at all. You possess more poise than half the peerage combined. I simply mean to say that I have no patiencefor half-measures. If you commit to this, I expect nothing less than perfection.”
