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Robert was inside the room before he could register his legs moving. “That’s enough, Norfolk!” Robert stood between the marquess and his daughter.
She was lying on the floor next to an overturned chair in a heap of skirts.
Robert was breathing heavily, from anger, from disappointment, from the unfairness of it all. He felt the heat creep up his neck to his face. “I think I can take it from here,” he said harshly.
Lady Julie was acting like a wanton. She’d openly disobeyed her father just a moment ago, but nothing merited such treatment from her father.
“My Lord—” the marquess began, suddenly looking uncomfortable.
“I want a minute to talk to my betrothed if you don’t mind.” Robert’s tone brooked no arguments, so Norfolk murmured his apologies and shuffled away.
Robert turned to his betrothed and regarded her quizzically. Lady Julie scrambled from the floor and stood next to the toppled over chair. Her chin high, her stance defiant, she stared right into his eyes. She looked like she was ready to do battle. With him. No doubt to avoid marrying him. Robert raked his hand through his hair.
“When were you going to tell me we were betrothed?” she demanded, breaking the tense silence.
“Honestly? Never.” Robert shrugged. “I assumed you already knew. That your father told you.”
“Well, he hadn’t. And I am here to break the engagement.”
Robert grimaced at her matter-of-fact tone of voice. “Sweetheart, do you really think there’s a better option for you?” he asked, bitterness seeping through his tone. “Your father is determined to give you to the highest bidder. And by the highest bidder, I do mean the highest rank.”
“I am not your sweetheart. And I know there is a better option.” She started breathing sporadically.
“Really? And what is it? Lord Lansdowne?” he asked in disgust. “Because I know for a fact that he’s your father’s second candidate. You are welcome to choose him if you please.”
At his words, his intended blanched. She reached her hand behind her and grabbed the back of a chair as if to steady herself. She was starting to shake.
“I will not marry him either,” she said hastily.
“Really? Even if I drop you like a hot potato, no scandal is going to matter to him,” Robert said. He observed her as she stood silent, not quite knowing what to say. “I don’t know what your issues are with me, but I know your father. If you don’t believe me, feel free to have a talk with him and find out what is going to happen if I don’t take you as my wife.”
Lady Julie swallowed audibly, her throat working at the nervous gesture. “Why do you care?”
Robert shrugged. “I don’t. Not for you anyhow. But I need a bride, for many reasons which are my own, and I don’t want to go through the trouble of courting during the season. You’re—” he paused, searching for the right word “—convenient.”
A nervous bubble of laughter escaped her.
“That is why I am willing to make you a deal.” He stepped closer to her. That was it. If they were indeed to have a marriage of convenience, it was better to get things out in the open. She could decide for herself if she wanted this deal or not. Either way, everyone would leave with their hearts intact. “I’ll give you twenty-four hours to think about your situation. Go, talk to your father, to your chaperone, do whatever you need to do to decide whether you prefer me to old Lansdowne. If you decide against me, I’ll let you go. No questions asked.”
Lady Julie sucked in her breath.
“However, if you decide you’d rather have me, I’ll have some conditions.”
“What conditions?” Her voice was hoarse. She licked her lips, and Robert was involuntarily drawn to the movement. He cursed himself for his wayward eyes.
“I don’t expect affection from you,” he drawled, looking into her eyes again. “But I expect loyalty. And what I mean by that is that I won’t be made a cuckold.” He stepped closer to her, crowding her. “Second, I expect you to be an exceptional hostess.” Another step. “Nothing like your behavior I’ve observed thus far. If you need polishing, my grandmother will help you, but I’d expect you to try very hard.”
By this time, he stood almost toe-to-toe with her. Lady Julie held her ground; her neck craned back so she could look into his eyes. However, she looked as terrified as a cornered hare.
“And third,” he said, dropping his tone a half octave lower and staring directly into her eyes, “I expect you to give me heirs.”
Lady Julie, who was staring back at him dazedly, blanched at that statement. Her eyes widened, and she caught her breath. Clydesdale sneered down at her. Would she blanch if it were St. Clare proposing to beget her heirs? She seemed quite taken with the handsome viscount, like half the London ladies appeared to be.
“That is, unless you prefer to be bedded by Lansdowne.” He dropped his gaze suggestively to her bosom before looking away and taking a step back.
“And what if I don’t comply with your conditions after we’re married?” she asked him when she found her voice.
Robert waved his hand in dismissal. “I have plenty of property. One in Scotland, actually. I could just send you there. I’d still need heirs though, that’s the sole reason for this whole charade, so maybe I’d throw you into an asylum and petition the court for a divorce on the grounds of insanity,” he threatened with a dismissive voice. He flinched inwardly at his own statement. He’d never talked to a woman in such a cruel manner under normal circumstances. Well, he had once, but she’d deserved it. Lady Julie, on the other hand, didn’t.
