sheet of paper. “But I have seen the way that she looks at you, and I am certain that in time you could, if you were of a mind to, capture her heart. You are reputed to make love charmingly.”
“I hardly think that would win the approval of a prospective father-in-law,” Ashley said grimly. “Furthermore, if you overheard my talk with Mercer Corte, which I think you must have to be aware of my father’s list, you must also know that there is another woman in my life.”
“Yes, I know about your mistress,” Levisham said calmly.
“Since we are speaking plainly, Caro deserves better than a husband who loves his mistress.”
“Yes,” her father agreed, “but she insists that she wants a marriage in which her husband has another interest.”
“But, my lord,” Ashley cried, profoundly shocked, “whatever you daughter’s naive sentiments may be, surely my attachment must make me ineligible in your eyes.”
“Not at all. In truth, I prefer it, too.”
Ashley’s jaw dropped. This was not a conversation he would ever have envisioned having with a prospective father-in-law. “Good God, why?”
“A man with other interests will make fewer demands on her.” The marquess’s face clouded, and the pen slid unnoticed from his fingers. “She is as tiny and delicate as her mama.”
Tiny perhaps, Ashley thought, but Caro was about as delicate as a steel rod.
“And too young and fragile for endless childbearing.” Levisham’s face suddenly sagged with grief, and his voice broke. “Just as her mama was when we married. But I had such a passion for her that I could not keep my hands off her.” His voice dropped to an agonizing whisper. “Childbirth and miscarriages sapped her health, and she died giving birth to Caro’s little sister, who lived but forty-eight hours.”
“So, if I were to marry Caro, you prefer to have me in my mistress’s bed rather than my wife’s,” Ashley said sharply. “While I have no wish to turn my wife into a brood mare, I must remind you that the reason I must marry is for an heir.”
“But once she has given you that...” Levisham broke off, asking abruptly, “Whom else on your father’s list would you prefer to marry?”
The question silenced the viscount, for the answer was clearly no one.
Levisham smiled shrewdly. “You see. And I promise you that Caro will never raise any objection to your mistress.”
“I think you are wrong about that, and that is why I cannot marry her.” Ashley had come to feel like a protective big brother to Caro. He was too fond of her to offer her a marriage that would hold no happiness for her.
“I know my daughter very well, and I assure you that she will not object. You said that if you found such a woman, you would marry her.”
Yes, Ashley had said that, but Caro deserved better. “I cannot—”
Levisham silenced him with a wave of his hand. “How can you be so cruel as to consign her to Tilford and Olive Kelsie? Do not give me your answer yet. Think about it for a few days.”
Chapter 10
It was a subdued, thoughtful Ashley who took Caro on her calls later that morning, but she seemed not to notice as she told him about the people they were to meet. He was surprised by how much she knew of the history and families, the pleasures and problems of her father’s tenants and retainers.
Ashley was struck by the genuine affection that the people they visited had for Caro, and by hers for them. He was struck, too, by how good she was with the children and the ill. There was a maturity about her in these moments that he had not seen before.
One of their stops was at the cottage of a tenant farmer whose five-year-old son was slowly recuperating from scarlet fever. Little more than skin and bones, he lay listlessly on a narrow straw bed in a corner of the cottage’s one room.
The abode was clean, its bare stone floor well swept and scrubbed, but sparsely furnished. A long trestle table of rough pine, flanked by two benches,
“I hardly think that would win the approval of a prospective father-in-law,” Ashley said grimly. “Furthermore, if you overheard my talk with Mercer Corte, which I think you must have to be aware of my father’s list, you must also know that there is another woman in my life.”
“Yes, I know about your mistress,” Levisham said calmly.
“Since we are speaking plainly, Caro deserves better than a husband who loves his mistress.”
“Yes,” her father agreed, “but she insists that she wants a marriage in which her husband has another interest.”
“But, my lord,” Ashley cried, profoundly shocked, “whatever you daughter’s naive sentiments may be, surely my attachment must make me ineligible in your eyes.”
“Not at all. In truth, I prefer it, too.”
Ashley’s jaw dropped. This was not a conversation he would ever have envisioned having with a prospective father-in-law. “Good God, why?”
“A man with other interests will make fewer demands on her.” The marquess’s face clouded, and the pen slid unnoticed from his fingers. “She is as tiny and delicate as her mama.”
Tiny perhaps, Ashley thought, but Caro was about as delicate as a steel rod.
“And too young and fragile for endless childbearing.” Levisham’s face suddenly sagged with grief, and his voice broke. “Just as her mama was when we married. But I had such a passion for her that I could not keep my hands off her.” His voice dropped to an agonizing whisper. “Childbirth and miscarriages sapped her health, and she died giving birth to Caro’s little sister, who lived but forty-eight hours.”
“So, if I were to marry Caro, you prefer to have me in my mistress’s bed rather than my wife’s,” Ashley said sharply. “While I have no wish to turn my wife into a brood mare, I must remind you that the reason I must marry is for an heir.”
“But once she has given you that...” Levisham broke off, asking abruptly, “Whom else on your father’s list would you prefer to marry?”
The question silenced the viscount, for the answer was clearly no one.
Levisham smiled shrewdly. “You see. And I promise you that Caro will never raise any objection to your mistress.”
“I think you are wrong about that, and that is why I cannot marry her.” Ashley had come to feel like a protective big brother to Caro. He was too fond of her to offer her a marriage that would hold no happiness for her.
“I know my daughter very well, and I assure you that she will not object. You said that if you found such a woman, you would marry her.”
Yes, Ashley had said that, but Caro deserved better. “I cannot—”
Levisham silenced him with a wave of his hand. “How can you be so cruel as to consign her to Tilford and Olive Kelsie? Do not give me your answer yet. Think about it for a few days.”
Chapter 10
It was a subdued, thoughtful Ashley who took Caro on her calls later that morning, but she seemed not to notice as she told him about the people they were to meet. He was surprised by how much she knew of the history and families, the pleasures and problems of her father’s tenants and retainers.
Ashley was struck by the genuine affection that the people they visited had for Caro, and by hers for them. He was struck, too, by how good she was with the children and the ill. There was a maturity about her in these moments that he had not seen before.
One of their stops was at the cottage of a tenant farmer whose five-year-old son was slowly recuperating from scarlet fever. Little more than skin and bones, he lay listlessly on a narrow straw bed in a corner of the cottage’s one room.
The abode was clean, its bare stone floor well swept and scrubbed, but sparsely furnished. A long trestle table of rough pine, flanked by two benches,
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