For Duty's Sake by Lucy Monroe Page B

make a cup of tea is the mark of laziness rather than wealth.”
    â€œI’m sure Lou-Belia would agree with her.”
    â€œYour mother is an imminently sensible woman.”
    â€œYou think it sensible to stay with a man who chose infidelity over argument in the attempt to convince her to have another child?” she asked, curiosity rather than bitterness in her voice.
    Between discovering she was pregnant and accepting the inevitable consequences that would have for her life, Angele had come to terms with a lot of things. Her present required all her energy; she didn’t have any left over to dwell on her family’s past.
    Zahir carried the teapot and two mugs to the small wrought-iron table. “Life is what it is.”
    â€œI think I’m finally learning what that really means.”
    â€œShe chose what she considered the lesser of two evils.” Zahir’s tone said he knew what that felt like.
    In his position, she would be surprised if he didn’t. Nevertheless, Angele warned, “It’s not a choice I would make.”
    â€œYou cannot doubt that things are completely over between Elsa and me.”
    â€œNo, but there are other Elsas in this world.”
    â€œI have no interest in them.”
    â€œI hope that’s true.”
    â€œYou doubt my word?” Zahir’s shock was almost comical.
    She poured the tea, adding a scant teaspoon of sugar to hers. “Not exactly.”
    â€œThen what, exactly ?”
    â€œThe future. I doubt the future.”
    â€œWell, don’t.”
    She wanted to laugh, but simply shook her head. “If only it were that easy.”
    â€œIt can be.”
    â€œCertain safeguards would make it easier.”
    â€œThe conditions.”
    â€œYes, my conditions.”
    â€œFor you to marry me, despite the fact you carry my child.” He stirred not one, but three teaspoons of sugar into his tea.
    She’d always found his sweet tooth endearing, something she knew about him that few people noticed. Because he didn’t eat desserts. But he did drink cocoa and put lots of sugar in his coffee and tea. Seeing evidence of that sweet tooth now brought a measure of comfort, a reminder that not everything had changed.
    He was still the same man she’d fallen in love with from afar, the same man she’d planned for most of her adult life to marry.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œI’m not going to like them, am I?”
    â€œNo.” There was no point in sugarcoating it—no matter how much he might like sweet things, but shewasn’t going to feel guilty for trying for some semblance of assurance for her future, either.
    She might not be that naive, year on from university woman who believed she could have a one-night stand with the man she loved and come out of it relatively unscathed, but she still had to have some level of hope for her future. His agreement to her conditions would give her that.
    He sat back, his mug in one hand, his eyes fixed on her with that patented intensity of his. “I am all ears.”
    She took a deep breath and went for broke. “I want a prenup that guarantees me the right to raise our children in the United States in the event you take a lover.”
    She waited for the explosion, but none came. He simply sat, sipping his tea in silence and looking completely unperturbed.
    â€œNothing to say?”
    â€œI assume there is more since you said conditions plural, not condition in the singular.”
    â€œYes.” Was he really as sanguine as he appeared? “I mean it.”
    â€œI assumed you did.”
    â€œYou aren’t angry.”
    â€œConsidering your past, such a condition is hardly a shock.”
    â€œBut…” He would never countenance his children being raised outside of Zohra. She finally stuttered as much out loud.
    â€œNaturally not, but since it won’t happen, I fail to see why I should become upset over your need for the