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‘No,’ he agreed.

To her credit, she didn’t fill the silence by asking inane questions. Instead, she led him towards the empty flowerbeds. Despite the shadows, her expression held wistfulness. ‘In the spring, I imagine this space will be filled with tulips and hyacinths.’ She pointed to a dying shrub of some kind and said, ‘That one will be hydrangea.’

But he noticed the way she gripped her shawl, trying to stay warm. ‘You’re cold.’

‘It is November,’ she said. Then she turned to him and said, ‘Since you’ve met my parents and came to speak with me, does it mean you are considering a marriage between us?’

He didn’t know. At the time, he’d merely been looking for an escape.

‘I have not decided yet. I would need to speak with your father first.’ He started to escort her back into the ballroom, to prevent her from freezing, but she stopped him with a hand.

‘There is no need for formalities, you know. You already know that I only want to marry you because of your garden. What would you want in return?’ Her face warmed, and she added, ‘Aside from my dowry to rebuild Severn. And an heir later.’

Alaric didn’t acknowledge her last assertion, for he wasn’t ready to consider that yet. Instead, he regarded her, trying to understand why she was so different from the other young ladies here. Her wealth was part of it. She had no need to marry a titled lord with a fortune. He supposed that gave her choices most women didn’t have.

He avoided answering her question with one of his own. ‘For a young lady with a large dowry and plenty of suitors, I presume you want more than my garden. You want to be a duchess.’

‘Oh, not really,’ she said. ‘I have an offer from a marquess, which will do well enough if I decide to marry him.’ Her expression narrowed. ‘You never did tell me very much about yourself. What do you enjoy doing for fun?’

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d indulged in merriment. At least, not since Lenora had married the earl. ‘I don’t have time for fun.’

‘That’s right. Your father’s debts explain your dark mood.’ She thought a moment, staring at him as if he were a problem to be solved. But she didn’t share the thoughts running through that sharp mind.

That was it, he realised—the reason why he was actually considering this arranged marriage. Lady Charlotte showed signs of strong intelligence, not to mention her practicality. And the more he studied her, the more he found her attractive. Her hair shone in the candlelight with strands of gold, and her smile seemed to brighten the room. She did have generous curves, and her green eyes held amusement, as if she were plotting something.

‘Perhaps you shouldn’t marry me at all,’ he suggested. ‘Because of my dark moods.’

‘Oh, I can live with those. Separate rooms, remember? We can truly live in the same house and rarely see one another.’

He didn’t point out that there would be times when they would have to share a room, to keep up appearances.

‘Is that what you want? A marriage where we barely see one another?’ Alaric dared to ask. ‘Like your parents’?’

She appeared startled that he’d remembered. ‘It…it would be something to discuss and decide together.’ Before he could say another word, she continued, ‘I know there are young ladies who want to marry for love. There probably are marriages based on love, but I can’t imagine being in one.’ She tilted her head to look up at him. ‘I consider myself to be a very practical sort of person. Do I look like someone who would require love in her marriage?’

No, but he suspected he could bring her to the edge of pleasure and unravel her tight composure into surrender. The thought intrigued him.

‘I’m not the kind of man who will fall in love,’ he answered. He had no intention of becoming vulnerable to emotions—especially not after what had happened to his father when his wife had died.

‘Then we are in agreement,’ she said. ‘What other rules have you come up with so far? Besides not falling in love, and, I suspect, you do not wish to attend balls.’

‘I would not want to show affection in public,’ he suggested.

‘And I would want to have complete dominion over your gardens and grounds,’ she countered. ‘I will leave you to govern your own estates.’

He removed his coat, noticing that her shivers were increasing. ‘Put this on. You’re freezing.’

‘If I do, my father will expect a proposal,’ she countered. ‘It’s too soon for that, unless you’re certain that’s what you want?’

‘It’s a coat, nothing more.’

‘It isn’t. And I think you know that.’ But she took it and held it in her hands for a moment.

‘I cannot imagine why any woman would choose her husband based on his garden,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s irresponsible.’

‘Other women choose husbands based on the size of their estates and their wealth,’ she pointed out. ‘How is this any different?’ When he gave no answer, she added, ‘This is something I love with everything in me. I can make my own happiness, and I won’t need anything else.’

She clearly believed that, which he found strange.