Black hair, dark eyes, pink lips, tapered curves… A day ago, he might have considered the combination one of his favorites.Today, he’d rather subject himself to a lifetime of never-ending bachelorhood than end up with a wife bearing anything in common with Miss Godwin.
“Too difficult a question?”she asked with saccharine politeness.“Then let’s start with you.What are your credentials?”
Fine.He was going to have to talk to her.
Christopher cleared his throat.“As you may have surmised, I am something of a gentleman astronomer—”
“We are looking for reasons a woman wouldwantto wed you,” she interrupted sweetly.“Surely there must be something?”
He ground his jaw.“One or two details may fit your requirements.I come from well-respected lineage.I’m currently second in line to a dukedom.Financial stability need not be a concern for my future wife.”
She leaned back into the sofa.“Younger brother to an heir presumptive means neither of you are particularly likely to become the next Duke of Silkridge.”
He glared at her.If she already knew his family history, why bother to ask?
“Nonetheless…” She tilted her head.“Most of my neighbors have no connections at all.To certain ladies, yours will be attractive indeed.”
“I don’t want them,” he said without thinking, then immediately regretted the outburst.
She scoffed.“Why ever not?One might say that wealth and connections are a potential suitor’s two greatest aspects.”
One might also say that Beau Brummell’s waistcoat is one of the constellations.
And one would be wrong.
He swallowed the terse reply.Miss Godwin was not alone in judging a man solely on the material benefits he could provide.It was best to set proper expectations.
“I am not seeking a perfect bride,” he said quietly, “nor do I pretend to be a perfect groom.I am looking for a perfectmatch.Puzzle pieces that fit together.Two halves of a whole, whatever form that might take.”
The skepticism fell away from her expression.She gave him a closer look.
“That’s… impressively romantic,” she admitted.“I take it back.You may catch more women with that angle than your connections to a dukedom.”
He shook his head.“I’m not looking for ‘women.’I want a marriage that will last forever.”
“Don’t we all,” she murmured, staring down at Penelope’s note in her lap.With a start, Miss Godwin crumpled the paper and tossed it into the fire.“I hate letters.”
Christopher resolved never to write her one.
“If you had to pick a single characteristic,” she said slowly.“A quirk, a personality trait, a hobby.What is the one thing your prospective bride must have?”
“Willingness to travel,” he said at once.“It is my greatest passion, and one I very much look forward to sharing with my wife.”
From the aghast expression on Miss Godwin’s face, he might as well have admitted to a propensity for eating earthworms in clotted cream.
“You don’t like travel?”he said in surprise.
“Or travelers,” she said briskly.“But matchmaking isn’t about me.We have a good base.Come back tomorrow afternoon and I’ll introduce you to your first possibility.”
“Thank you.”He stood but then hesitated, unsure if he was meant to bow, or shake on the deal, or promise to never write letters from abroad.She made no sign.
At last, he decided on simply showing himself to the door.
When he turned around, however, he came face to face with the bookshelves he’d admired upon entering the drawing room.To his surprise, the top two shelves were filled with tomes on astronomy.
“You were telling the truth,” he said in shock.“These are perfectly serviceable resources on the venerable field of astronomy, and you haven’t read a single page.”
She lifted her chin.“I see what I see.”
