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Caution eclipsed relief. “Name them.”
“I shall gladly take charge of Noelle and fulfill my part of the arrangement. I’ll even comply with your less-than-appealing mandate that, once wed, I’ll remain permanently at Farrington. However, I refuse to sever ties with my grandfather.”
Eric’s jaw clenched. “And I refuse to have my privacy invaded. I also refuse to allow you and Noelle to go traipsing to the village to be ogled and grilled about the savage with whom you reside.”
Another profound flicker in those damned golden eyes, followed by—of all things—an impish smile. “Are visits by delivery men excluded from your definition of privacy invasion?”
“Pardon me?”
“Delivery men. They’ll be arriving at Farrington in droves. Otherwise, how will I receive all the extensive purchases due a countess?”
Taken aback by her obvious teasing, Eric cleared his throat. “I see your point.” A pause. “Very well, Miss Curran,” he conceded, frowning as he sought a solution he could live with. “Your grandfather may visit you—once a month, and alone. Further, as no one is permitted to enter my mausoleum”—he cast a derisive look at the vicar— “your visits must take place on the grounds, not in the manor. Unless of course you elect to emulate the delivery men. In which case, you have my consent to meet at the mansion’s rear entrance.”
Her lips curved again. “Fair enough.”
“Also, I expect, during these visits, that you will not neglect your responsibility to Noelle. She is to be in your company—and in your sight—at all times.” His mouth twisted into a mocking grin. “Think of it this way: You can see to Noelle’s well-being, while the vicar is assuring himself of yours.”
Brigitte’s smile vanished. “You have my word that I’ll never neglect Noelle. Will that be sufficient?”
“It will.”
“Thank you,” she replied solemnly. “To continue: Before we wed and leave for Farrington, I shall require several hours in the village, both to visit the homes of my students—who deserve an explanation for my sudden departure—and to speak with a friend of mine who currently instructs in her home, but who would be elated to take over my job at the schoolhouse. Frankly, she is the only person I’d entrust with my students.”
“You care that much for them?”
“I do.”
“Very well. Consider your first two stipulations granted.”
Brigitte gripped the folds of her gown, raising her chin a notch—and alerting Eric to the magnitude of her next condition. “You said I could spend your money freely, at my discretion. To be frank, I require nothing. But the parish does, more over the course of time than even your ten thousand pounds can supply. So, I’d like your word that I can provide for the church, the children, the village—any aspect of our parish I might deem worthy—not only now, but for all the years to come.”
“My word,” he repeated woodenly.
“Yes. Just as I gave you mine.”
“What makes you think my word can be trusted?”
“Instinct.”
A heartbeat of silence.
“My word, then. You may provide for the parish in an
y way and at any time you choose. Continue with your stipulations.”
“I have but two more. First, I want my grandfather’s future ensured, his appointment to our church guaranteed for the rest of his life. Is that acceptable?”
Eric nodded. “It is.”
“And last, I’d like Noelle’s blessing on our arrangement.”
“Nothing more?”
“Nothing more.” Brigitte glanced down, tucking a strand of sable hair behind the child’s ear. “Noelle?”
“What?” Noelle muttered into Fuzzy’s fur.
“How do you feel about my coming to live with you and your uncle?”
