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“As the Duchess of Hillow, I would expect that what I could do is still rather limited,” she pointed out, “as I would have to conduct myself respectfully and not embarrass you.”
He gestured to his face. “I am not sure you could wound me more than I already am.”
“What happened?” she asked in a more gentle voice.
He shook his head, clenching his teeth. “Another term of our arrangement: Do not ask me about myself, about my family, or about these scars.”
“You would have us be complete strangers to each other?” she asked, frowning.
“It is a business arrangement.”
“Until you come to my bed?” she asked, accusing.
“Just to do our duty,” he explained. “No kissing, no touching, no intimacy. Do what is required, and that is it.”
“And you will release my father?” she confirmed. “Will you allow him to attend the wedding?”
“Yes, I will arrange for a special license, and he will be released the day we wed.”
“Then I have one more term for our arrangement,” she told him, taking a deep breath. “I ask for a salary for my father.”
“Whatever for?” Fergus asked, taken aback. “He is a Baron, is he not? Should he not have a decent income for himself?”
“He is not good at being a Baron,” she explained, looking down at her hands. “We live comfortably, of course, and he manages affairs well enough, but he misses his workshop in Kent. He only took up this life to ensure I got introduced into society and married well. If I marry a Duke, then he could go back to doing what he loves.”
“Fine,” Fergus agreed, happy to ensure the old man was occupied by something other than cutting his mother’s flowers. “I will hire someone to manage the Baron’s affairs for him and arrange a salary for your father to… what? What does he do in this workshop?”
“He invents things,” she explained softly. “He had been working on this mechanical thrasher – you know, something to help with harvesting wheat.”
“Very well,” Fergus said, cutting her off. “I shall lay something against his work.” She nodded and met his gaze again, a long moment passing between them.
“Do we have an accord?” she asked.
“We do.”
“Do we seal it, somehow?” she asked. “A handshake or contract?”
“I will contact my solicitor to draw up a contract with the details of our agreement,” Fergus agreed. He stood, suddenly, startling Edwina again. “If that is all, then you may return home, knowing that your father will soon be safe, and you will soon be the Duchess of Hillow.”
She nodded, swallowing hard before she stood. She dropped into a deep curtsey. “Thank you, Your Grace, for your understanding. Please send word as soon as you have obtained the license.”
“It should only take a few days,” he told her, escorting her out of the study and down the stairs. “Make whatever arrangements you must.” Simon and Edwina’s servants still waited in the foyer and looked up to Fergus and Edwina expectantly as they came down the stairs.
“We have come to an agreement,” Fergus explained as Edwina rejoined her servants.
“Come,” Edwina said in a soft voice, casting a furtive glance back at Fergus. “We all need some rest.”
Fergus heard the servants asking their mistress what had happened as they got back in their carriage, but he could not make out Edwina’s response. Simon remained beside him, quiet, until the carriage drove down the drive.
“What happened?” Simon asked, turning to Fergus.
“That is the future Duchess of Hillow,” Fergus explained. He faced Simon and clapped him on the shoulder. “And you only told me just last night that my future bride would not just come knocking on my door.”
