likely starve?’
‘It would not come to that.’
‘But aside from that, Alexander, and even aside from all the tenants who are now yours but who must have once been hers, are you seriously saying your mother wishes you to hand over the Fearnoch fortune to your cousin?’
Once again, he was silent, painfully silent, his expression taut. Eloise touched his hand tentatively. ‘Alexander?’
He blinked, shook his head. ‘I can only conclude that my mother, having relied first upon her husband and then my brother to support her, underestimates the impact on her standard of living unless I intervene. Nor, I must assume, can she have any idea of the havoc my cousin would wreak on the estates.’
‘But even if she is somewhat deluded,’ Eloise said doubtfully, ‘surely she would prefer you to inherit rather than your cousin? Is it your plans to rid yourself of the estates, perhaps, that she objects to?’
‘I told her nothing of my plans, save that I intended to marry, and by doing so, to secure her future. The purpose of my visit was not to explain myself, but simply to reassure her. I failed. In fact, she became overwrought. Since my mind was set, I saw no point in attempting to reason with her.’
Eloise’s heart sank. It was clear to her that Alexander’s mother didn’t wish her son to marry a gold-digger, and it should be equally clear to him. ‘Your mother is to be admired,’ she said carefully, ‘for putting your interests before her own. Knowing that your preference would be to remain unmarried...’
‘She can know no such thing. My mother and I are, to all intents and purposes, strangers to each other.’
‘Strangers! What on earth do you mean by that?’
‘Like your own mother, mine had interest only in one child. That child was not me. I was packed off to school at an early age, and spent most of my holidays in the country while my parents remained in London with Walter. I joined the Admiralty at sixteen and have spent the majority of my time since then abroad. Though we have met on occasion since—at her husband’s funeral, and most recently, when I returned to England after Walter died—they have been only very occasional meetings, and my mother seems perfectly content for that state of affairs to remain unchanged.’
‘You are implying that she abandoned you. But why? And now, when she has lost her husband and her only other son, why—oh, Alexander, I’m so sorry, this must be incredibly painful for you.’
‘I have long become accustomed to her indifference. I would have thought, after what you told me of your own upbringing, that you would understand that.’
Eloise was nonplussed. There was a world of difference between uninterest and outright rejection, but to say so would be cruel. Alexander might well believe himself reconciled to it, but the way he spoke, the way he held himself, told quite another story. She would not rub salt into the wound. ‘You’re right,’ she said, deciding to risk covering his hand with hers, ‘that is one thing we have in common. Your determination to provide for her, despite—it is an extremely honourable and admirable thing to do. Although it strikes me that she might be, as a consequence, disinclined to like your wife,’ she added awkwardly.
‘My marriage will allow me to right a wrong. I am not interested in my mother’s gratitude nor am I interested in her opinion of the woman I choose to marry. As I said, we have never been close, and I see no reason for my marriage to alter that state of affairs. Now if you don’t mind, I think we have more important matters to discuss than my mother.’
* * *
Alexander was furious with himself. Though he had striven to keep his tone neutral, it was clear, from the sympathy in her voice, in the way Eloise had touched his hand, that his feelings had betrayed him.
‘Will you excuse me just a moment?’ He strode over to the window, staring out sightlessly at the view of the ordered drive, the neatly clipped yew hedge which bordered it. When Robertson, the lawyer, had informed him in that precise way of his that the Seventh Earl had chosen to abide by the Sixth Earl’s terms with regard to the Dowager Lady Fearnoch, Alexander had been first confused, then outraged on his mother’s behalf. When he called on her, he’d expected to find her deep in mourning, perhaps bereft with grief, for her beloved eldest son had been dead only five months. Instead she had seemed, as she always seemed, aloof, cold, firmly in control of herself. Only when he informed her of his plans had she become animated, begging him not to marry for her sake, or for any other reason than love. Love! As if he would ever take such a risk. There was no place for love in his life, save the one which had ruled him since he was sixteen, and that was for his country.
He leaned his head on the cool of the window pane, breathing deeply to try to calm himself. His mother didn’t want his help. She didn’t want anything from him. As if he needed any more evidence of that! Her reaction was irrelevant. She had been wronged. It was up to him to make it right.
Alexander slanted a glance at Eloise, head lowered, intent on studying her clasped hands in order to grant him the semblance of privacy, and his sense of purpose strengthened. It was vital that they understood each other from the very start, if this marriage was to have any chance of succeeding.
As he resumed his seat opposite her, she seemed to brace herself. ‘If you’re having second thoughts, I’d rather you said so now.’
‘I am not,’ Alexander said firmly. ‘I was thinking the very opposite. I’m very serious about this, but I need to understand if you feel the same.’
‘I wouldn’t be here if I were not entirely serious.’
He steepled his hands, choosing his words with care. ‘When people marry in the traditional manner, it is with the expectation that affection, passion, love, if you wish, will form a bond between them, and that bond will in time be augmented by children. If we marry, we will have neither of those things. And we would be required to stay together, Eloise, albeit in name only, for the rest of our lives. We cannot afford to have regrets, which means we must enter into this agreement with a clear understanding of what we are getting into.’
‘And also what we are not getting into.’
‘You’re quite right,’ he agreed with a small smile. ‘It is very difficult to be honest with someone who was until this morning a complete stranger, but it is far better that we make the effort now, before it is too late. I have been frank with you, and, as you have doubtless realised, I am not accustomed to confiding my thoughts to anyone. You know why I wish to be married, but I’m not sure I understand your reasons sufficiently. You tell me that you have never wanted children—and now I’ve heard a little of your upbringing, I can understand why, but what is it you do want? I need to know, Eloise, that you’re not marrying purely for your sisters’ sake.’
‘And as I told my sisters, I have no desire to be a sacrificial lamb of a wife.’
‘I am very relieved to hear that. So tell me, then, what kind of a wife do you wish to be?’
‘Well, firstly, what you offer, a marriage which does not entail any—any wifely duties, is the only marriage I would consider. I’ve said enough, I hope, regarding my parents’ marriage to give you an idea of its nature. Passionate and poisonous in equal measure, an endless round of fighting and making up that shattered our peace, and put all of us girls constantly on edge. If that is love, I want nothing whatsoever to do with it.’
‘Why marry at all, if that is the case?’
She looked up at that. ‘I could remain single, though don’t forget, Alexander, I have the evidence before my eyes every day of how successful a marriage of convenience can be. It would be a lie if I told you I haven’t thought of my sisters, because I’ve spent most of my life putting them first, and the settlement you are offering is very generous, far too much for my requirements. I would share it with them, and I would leave it entirely up to Phoebe and Estelle to decide what use they put the money to. There is nothing worse, I imagine, than to be given a sum of money and then told how to spend it. I am determined not to do that.’