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‘No,’ Rose said flatly.
Flint caught the viscount’s gaze. He, too, seemed baffled by whatever feminine logic Rose was employing. She was not a fool, she was an intelligent woman. Why could she not grasp the inevitability of this? Presumably because marriage to him was worse than ruin in her mind.
‘I will try to persuade Sarah to keep quiet about it,’ Rose said. ‘We were never friends, but I cannot believe she wants to hurt me by tattling about this all over Brussels. She is too involved with Major Bartlett and with worries about Lord Randall to be attending social events, in any case, surely?
‘I was wrong to elope with Gerald when I did not truly love him,’ she added earnestly. ‘And do not ask me why, Papa. It is one of the things that I still do not understand. But everything that happened afterwards was a consequence of that action. I am going to be punished enough for my deeds, please do not punish me further by forcing me into a marriage I do not want.’
Adam felt his body tense and forced himself to relax. That was clear enough, she did not want to marry him, which considering she had been so eager to join him in his bed, and was perfectly well aware of the fate of disgraced young ladies, argued a strong objection to something about either his personality, his birth or his character. Probably all three.
‘What we want and what we need are not the same things, my girl,’ her father said. He looked at Adam and Adam looked back. After a moment her father nodded and Adam inclined his head in assent to the unspoken question. Somehow, for her own good, they were going to have to unite to persuade Rose into this union and form an unwilling truce to do so.
‘Take yourself off to your mother, Catherine. The major and I have business to discuss.’
‘I am not going to go and leave you to trap Adam into marrying me.’ Her hand tightened on the arm of the sofa, rucking the chintz cover under her fingers.
‘It would be an unusual thing to find a man in Major Flint’s position wishing to turn down the opportunity to marry the well-dowered daughter of a viscount,’ Lord Thetford said drily. ‘Especially when society will think him gallant indeed for rescuing you from disgrace if a whisper of your elopement ever comes out.’
The idea that he would have anything to gain from marrying her, other than the sense of having done the right thing, had obviously never occurred to Rose. Now she stared at him and Flint saw the colour rise and then ebb in her cheeks, saw the flicker of disquiet in her eyes.
It had not occurred to him either, which only proved he was not thinking very clearly. Whatever he wanted to do now, whether stay in the army or buy land, would be made easier by a marriage to Miss Tatton. She would bring a dowry, influential relatives, an established place in society—and she thought he had been thinking about that from the moment he discovered that she was a lady.
‘I think it would be better if you do leave, Miss Tatton. Your father and I must have a practical discussion.’
‘Horse trading,’ Rose said with scorn in her voice. She stood, sweeping her skirts around her with ostentatious care. ‘But I would remind you both that clichés usually have a kernel of truth in them. You may lead a horse to water, but you most certainly cannot make it drink.’
Flint stood to open the door for her, but she was already across the room. She paused in the open doorway and curtsied. ‘Papa. Major Flint.’
‘On her high horse, to carry a weary metaphor further.’ Lord Thetford sighed as he dropped back into his chair. ‘What have you got to say for yourself now the ladies are out of the room, Flint?’
‘I genuinely believed that the woman I found on the battlefield was a camp follower, my lord. I had seen her at Quatre Bras, her clothing was that of a common woman, there was nothing out of place and she could not speak. I found myself drawn to her, fond of her. I wanted to keep her with me, treat her well. I did not see the clues that should have led me to a realisation of who she was, although I will be frank with you, even if I had, it was too late.’
Her father grimaced. ‘Yes, that is frank indeed. Tell me about yourself then, Major. I know you are the old Earl Randall’s by-blow.’
‘One of them, yes.’ An angry man, a worried man, but a fair one, he decided as he studied the viscount. Flint took a deep breath and cleared his mind as though he was about to give an intelligence report. ‘My mother…’
*
Half an hour later Lord Thetford leaned back in his chair and grunted. ‘Not as bad as I thought. You’ve more behind you financially than that boy Haslam had.’
‘I can give you my bankers’ direction for confirmation of my assets. I would refer you to Colonel Lord Randall if his health was not in such a precarious state. The duke might speak for me.’
‘He may well. Wellington likes rogues, provided they get the business done,’ the viscount said drily. ‘You’ll want to know about Catherine’s dowry. No, don’t wave it away, we’re talking business here and I’ll think you a noddy if you aren’t concerned. I’m rich in land, poor in ready money like many a title-holder. I make no secret of the fact. That’s why we’re here in Brussels, a cheap place to live, as the Duke of Richmond would find if his duchess didn’t keep throwing damn-fool entertainments. But Catherine inherited from her godfather and from her mother’s mother.’ He named a sum that had Flint feeling mildly queasy. ‘And there is property, of course. All the unentailed land is settled on her and for now there’s her godfather’s nice little estate I’m looking after for her. That would suit you, I have no doubt.’
‘I cannot…’ Money? Land? A nice little estate? ‘The settlements will have to be put in trust for the children. Whatever is the usual practice. I don’t want any of it, I am not a fortune hunter.’
‘Then you’re a fool. Do you want your wife having to live in Brussels on the economical plan like the rest of us here?’ Bushy grey eyebrows rose in scornful enquiry. ‘Do you want your children growing up as a major of artillery can rear them or as a rich man can?’
‘If you put it like that, the latter, I suppose.’ It seemed there was no end to the blows his pride was expected to take. ‘My lord, Miss Tatton is a beautiful, intelligent, elegant young lady. She is also past the age one would expect the daughter of a viscount to be unmarried. Is there something I should know?’
‘Some broken heart in the past, you mean?’ Lord Thetford gave a bark of laughter. ‘Nothing that simple. The girl declares she will not marry except for love, mutual love. Romantic poppycock. I had met her mother half a dozen times before we married and we have rubbed along very well. Why Catherine lost her head over Haslam I cannot say, given that she regained her senses soon enough.’
Love? Rose wants a love match and she gets me.
‘I wil
l do everything in my power to make her happy, my lord,’ he said, keeping hold of the fast-disappearing tail of his temper.
‘You had better. I’ll not have her marry you unless I am certain you will be kind to my girl, even if it means we have to go and live in Italy to avoid the scandal. Will you strike her if she displeases you? Keep a mistress? Come home drunk and gamble her fortune away?’
