Ripe for Scandal by Isobel Carr

support.”
    And there it was. A ready excuse to avoid doing what the world would expect. They’d made their bed in haste and must now lie
     in it. That’s what he would say, and many would agree.
    The duke raised his brows, his mouth pressed into a hard, thin line. Gareth watched the two older men glare at one another.
     Tension crackled between them. If they’d been younger, they’d have come to blows already.
    “I’ll throw my support behind the canal project you keep proposing,” the duke said, “if you provide your son with an estate
     of at least five thousand a year.”
    Gareth’s jaw sagged open. He snapped it shut. Hisfather had been trying to get that canal project pushed through for several years. Cheap, easy access to market for the coal
     on his Newcastle estates would make them far more profitable.
    “I have a small estate in Kent, gets its value from hops. The market’s volatile. Some years it’s five or even six thousand.
     Some years it’s nearer to two.”
    “With an additional annuity of a thousand then,” the duke countered.
    “Payable only in years when the estate’s income drops below three.”
    “Done,” said the duke, slapping his hand down on the desk as though ending an auction. “We’ll have the settlements drawn up
     by tomorrow, and the wedding can take place just as soon as my eldest returns with the license.”

CHAPTER 15
    B eau skulked at the top of the stairs until she heard the library door open. Being excluded from something that so clearly
     concerned her merely because of her sex was vexing in the extreme. Not even her sister-in-law’s intriguing little book had
     been able to fully distract her, though she now knew words for body parts that she barely even dared to think about.
    Sandison’s distinct footsteps followed the shutting of the door, and she hurried down the stairs. “Well? What happened?”
    Sandison’s head snapped up. He looked somewhat dazed. “I rather feel like a horse at Tattersall’s at the moment.”
    “Sold you off, have they?”
    “Sold
us
off, you mean. Your father bargains like a gypsy horse trader. I feel as though I should count my fingers and toes.”
    Beau grinned. “I’ve never seen anyone get the better of the duke.”
    “My father certainly thinks he did.”
    “And that’s a good thing, right?” Beau gave Sandison’s arm a squeeze, the hard muscles beneath the fine wool of his coat flexed
     beneath her fingers. The knowledge that he was hers sang through her blood, pushing away the ever-present bubble of guilt.
     “Come out to the folly with me,” she whispered, tugging him toward the door.
    “Do you think that wise?” Sandison’s pace slowed, and Beau pulled him along, hands encircling his wrist. She fumbled with
     the door and led him outside.
    “We’re well past
wise
, don’t you think? Besides, I have something to show you.”
    “I don’t trust that smile of yours, brat.”
    Beau’s smile grew until her cheeks almost hurt. “Walk me to the folly and tell me what our illustrious fathers have cobbled
     together.”
    Sandison’s thumb circled inside her palm as they wove through the garden. All around them the gardeners were busy mulching
     the beds and trimming the plants back for the approaching winter.
    “More than I would ever have expected,” he said. “Fifty thousand pounds from your father and a small estate somewhere in Kent
     from mine.” A subtle smile curled up one corner of his mouth. “It must have killed my father to make such a concession.”
    “Really?”
    “Oh, yes, brat. You’ve yet to be introduced to the feudal ways of the Earls of Roxwell. The earl himself comes first, his
     son and heir second, and everyone else exists only to serve them. Breaking off a profitable estate for a younger son goes
     quite strongly against the grain.”
    “Younger sons are not allowed to marry?”
    “They’re certainly not encouraged to do so. Traditionally, the earl uses a pocket borough to put