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Alaric jerked his attention back to the conversation. He was about to tell her that the gardener handled the grounds, but then he remembered that he’d dismissed the man only a few months ago.

‘What is your point, Lady Charlotte?’

‘Your garden has excellent potential,’ she answered. ‘And although I know it is extremely forward of me to even be here, I needed to see it for myself.’

He’d had enough. ‘I think you should put aside your lie, Lady Charlotte, and tell the truth about why you’re here. We both know it has nothing to do with my garden.’

She straightened and tightened her mouth. ‘I am not lying, Your Grace.’

She was, and he’d decided that this call was over. ‘My footman will show you out.’ He rose from the chair, waiting for her to go.

But she didn’t move. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, studying him as if making a decision. Then she gave a nod and continued, ‘Before I return to London, I suppose we might as well speak frankly.’

He didn’t sit but rested his hands on the back of his chair, forcing her to look up. ‘About what, exactly?’ He still didn’t believe she had travelled north of the city for hours, on the pretence of visiting his gardens, when it was winter.

She remained seated and faced him. ‘You strike me as a practical man, Your Grace. I consider myself to be the same. And thus, I have a proposition for you, if you are willing to hear it.’

Now, this sounded like her true reason for travelling this far. ‘Go on.’

‘I ask that you listen to what I have to say without interrupting,’ she began. ‘There is a great deal to consider.’

Alaric supposed that the sooner he listened to this flighty proposition, the sooner he could say no, and she would leave. With a hand, he gestured for her to continue.

‘I have a passion for gardening,’ she began. ‘It is important to me. I wish to spend my life studying and growing plants. I consider myself a horticulturist, and I enjoy sketching flowers.’

Was she still dwelling upon his gardens? From the earnest expression on her face, it seemed real. Her eyes held excitement, and she reached out for the colourful leaf, twirling it between her fingers.

‘I have decided that my future husband simply must have a garden that will satisfy my needs.’ She returned the leaf to his desk. ‘And yours offers the greatest of possibilities.’

Husband? Alaric’s stare darkened. Was she…proposing to him? She knew absolutely nothing about him, save for his title and the estates.

‘What, precisely, are you saying, Lady Charlotte?’

‘I travelled to Severn, wanting to see your gardens. I had intended to leave quietly and notify my father that I would consider you as a candidate for my hand in marriage. But since I was caught, I suppose we could simply discuss it now.’

‘Discuss marriage?’ He was incredulous at the idea. They had never even been formally introduced.

But she nodded again. ‘Please understand that, although you possess a high rank and are reasonably handsome, a marriage between us would be simply a convenient arrangement. My father will offer a sizable dowry, which would help you repair your estate. In return, I would expect you to give me your gardens to tend as I see fit. That would be sufficient.’

Reasonably handsome? He didn’t know if that was a compliment or an insult.

‘We are strangers to one another, Lady Charlotte.’

‘And many strong marriages begin in that way,’ she continued. ‘Rest assured, I do not expect fanciful notions such as love.’

He blinked at that. Didn’t most women hope for love within a marriage, even if it was an arrangement? He’d once believed Lenora had loved him. He had met her during a ball while she’d been trying to remain a wallflower. They had shared a mutual distaste for social gatherings, and after that, he’d decided that they would suit well enough.

But she’d stunned him when she’d chosen to marry someone else—which brought back the familiar ache of bitterness. Words failed him and he had no idea what to say to Lady Charlotte beyond a resounding no. He knew he had a duty to wed, but not now. Not when the sting of rejection was still a thorn pricking at his pride.

But before he could say a word, she continued talking.

‘I want my future marriage to be similar to my parents’ union,’ she insisted. ‘They each have their own rooms. They go about their lives as they please, and there is nothing more than companionship between them. And fidelity, of course.’

It sounded like a reasonable request, but he had no intention of accepting such a bargain.

‘Lady Charlotte, I have no need for a bride.’ At least, not yet.

She glanced behind her. ‘As I said before, my father has offered a generous dowry. It could be used for…your leaking roof, if you wish.’