The Perfect Bride by Brenda Joyce Page A

Lady Harrington,” he finally said.
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause in spite of what you may think, I am a gentleman.” He flushed. “You are a ripe mark for every scheming rogue. You do not need a husband who will waste your fortune instead of guarding it. And even if there is some amusement the first year or two, he will cause you years of grief afterward. The kind of rogue I am referring to, will spend every cent and penny and then wander when he wishes.”
    She stared and he stared back. “I am aware of that scenario,” she finally said.
    â€œGood.” He poured more wine for himself, appearing somewhat angry.
    She was aware of how terrible a mismatch could be. “Do you care to offer your advice?”
    He did not look away, his dark stare shockingly intense. “I advise you to cast your net outside the current pool,” he said instantly. “The kind of gentleman you are looking for will not step forward. He will consider himself beneath you—and he will consider stepping forward, considering your wealth and his lack thereof, beneath him.”
    She had never received better advice, she thought. He was right. She must discard all 228 suitors and find new ones. And was this the reason Sir Rex hadn’t come forward?
    Her heart hammered yet a third time, which she could not comprehend. Of course this was the reason—he was not a fortune hunter—and he would never put himself in the position of appearing to be one.
    On the other hand, that didn’t mean, had she possessed more modest means, that he would step forward, either. And she hardly wished for him to court her! She had recovered from seeing him in such a private encounter, and she certainly admired a great many qualities he possessed, but he was far too manly for a woman like herself.
    Blanche realized she was breathless. This was the crux of the matter. It was far more significant than her being a society hostess, and him being a country recluse. She hadn’t even been kissed and Sir Rex was clearly a man with huge appetites and vast experience. They would never get on.
    â€œYou haven’t eaten,” he said.
    Blanche picked up her plate, aware that her hand trembled. She was careful to avoid Sir Rex’s regard now. “Thank you. I think I will follow your advice,” she said. “Or at least attempt to do so.”
    Â 
    S HE WAS NEVER going to sleep now.
    Blanche stood at the window in her bedroom, the night sky sparkling with stars, the ocean gleaming black and silver. Because of the late luncheon, Sir Rex had taken a light repast in his study while he went over his paperwork, and she had taken a tray to her room. It was almost midnight, and she had been tossing and turning for at least an hour, entirely preoccupied with her host.
    She must discard all of her current suitors; she had made up her mind because such advice was inherently right. But then what?
    Should she consider Sir Rex as a prospective husband, after all?
    And why, at his age, was he still unattached?
    She listened to the ocean’s roar, but was not soothed. No amount of cold ocean air could cool her cheeks. So much had happened in the past day and a half, she felt as if she had been gone for a year. Her world felt entirely different now, as if she had been poised on a precipice, and one false step would lead to a vast fall. It was so unnerving.
    But hadn’t she dreamed of a day when her heart would race, when she would feel something other than calm and peace?
    She just hadn’t anticipated that day ever coming, and then being filled with so much confusion. Sir Rex had somehow tilted her world, making her feel uncertain and unsettled. But it was better than her world being so perfectly flat and even that she never missed a stride, wasn’t it?
    If they had separate bedrooms, Sir Rex might be the right choice for a husband. He would honestly and meticulously manage her fortune and her estates. They seemed to