there?"
Apparently Granbury was willing to take no one's gossip as truth without confirmation.
"I will know shortly, but I expect to find that he has gone home. He has enough troubles with those five sisters of his, he can't possibly want to take on the responsibility for Emily as well."
Granbury demurred silkily. "Unless he thinks her fortune worth a little inconvenience."
"I convinced him well enough that there would be no luck for him in that arena. I maligned poor Harold a bit, but it did the trick. I am glad for Emily's sake — and my own — you do not need a fortune along with a wife. Harold keeps me on such a meager allowance I swear I do not know how I manage. It is a great boon to me that you will allow me to keep her dowry."
The marquess murmured agreement. "The girl need only provide me an heir, my dear, not renew my fortune."
The countess laughed in return, but it ended on a bitter note. "Not all women are capable of giving their husbands a male heir, my lord. Emily will do her duty, I have no doubt of that. But if fate — "
"As I have said before, I do not believe in fate. I will have a son. I will not settle for less."
"Then I wish you well with her."
Valentine felt a chill run up his spine. He had hoped that Emily was wrong about Granbury's attraction to her. That would ensure the danger to Emily was less than to the marquess's other victims. An unhappy life, a husband who was, indeed, monstrous. If she gave him a son, that would be the best — and the worst — that she could expect.
He had not considered one additional outcome. If she did not provide the required heir . . . the marquess had proved his ability to dispose of inconvenient females permanently, and with an utter lack of conscience. What would he do if Emily were to disappoint him with a daughter or two — or fail to conceive at all?
He knew that it was not unusual to marry only to provide an heir, but Granbury did not even deign to hide his own motivations in this marriage. One thing confused him more now that he had overheard this conversation.
What would make the countess agree to wed her daughter to this man for money? Did the marquess hold some secret indiscretion over her head, that she would sacrifice her daughter to a heartless beast so that she would have more pin money?
The countess answered his question with her next words. He was shocked by the bitterness and the anger as she spoke of her own daughter. "Then I hope Emily does not fail you, as she failed her father and I by being born female."
Valentine wanted to burst through the door and take the countess to task. It was only because of the risk to Emily and to his sisters as well, from the countess's wrath that he stopped himself from coming to Emily's defense. Perhaps it was his own sister's mistreatment by their father that fueled his anger. As twins, he as the male and heir had received favored treatment, while Miranda was expected to be faultless and yet trusted to do nothing without guidance. It had rankled her all her life.
The marquess, however, seemed to find nothing objectionable in the countess's attitude. "I shall do my best to see that she bears me a son, rest assured."
Valentine clenched his fists, thinking of Emily as she had been the night he spent in her room, vulnerable and yet brave. He could not allow this marriage. He would not allow it.
The countess's laugh was not pleasant. "I have perfect confidence that you will, my lord." Valentine backed away from the door, glancing left and right to make certain that he had not been seen spying here at the door. He was cold and numb. Emily's mother would not change her mind. Part of her was actually hoping that Emily would be miserable — that she might not even bear the marquess a son.
He glanced at the papers in his hand. No letter would change that fact. Could even the faultless Duke of Kerstone, make her see reason? She bore no love for her daughter, her words proved that. And how could he tell
Apparently Granbury was willing to take no one's gossip as truth without confirmation.
"I will know shortly, but I expect to find that he has gone home. He has enough troubles with those five sisters of his, he can't possibly want to take on the responsibility for Emily as well."
Granbury demurred silkily. "Unless he thinks her fortune worth a little inconvenience."
"I convinced him well enough that there would be no luck for him in that arena. I maligned poor Harold a bit, but it did the trick. I am glad for Emily's sake — and my own — you do not need a fortune along with a wife. Harold keeps me on such a meager allowance I swear I do not know how I manage. It is a great boon to me that you will allow me to keep her dowry."
The marquess murmured agreement. "The girl need only provide me an heir, my dear, not renew my fortune."
The countess laughed in return, but it ended on a bitter note. "Not all women are capable of giving their husbands a male heir, my lord. Emily will do her duty, I have no doubt of that. But if fate — "
"As I have said before, I do not believe in fate. I will have a son. I will not settle for less."
"Then I wish you well with her."
Valentine felt a chill run up his spine. He had hoped that Emily was wrong about Granbury's attraction to her. That would ensure the danger to Emily was less than to the marquess's other victims. An unhappy life, a husband who was, indeed, monstrous. If she gave him a son, that would be the best — and the worst — that she could expect.
He had not considered one additional outcome. If she did not provide the required heir . . . the marquess had proved his ability to dispose of inconvenient females permanently, and with an utter lack of conscience. What would he do if Emily were to disappoint him with a daughter or two — or fail to conceive at all?
He knew that it was not unusual to marry only to provide an heir, but Granbury did not even deign to hide his own motivations in this marriage. One thing confused him more now that he had overheard this conversation.
What would make the countess agree to wed her daughter to this man for money? Did the marquess hold some secret indiscretion over her head, that she would sacrifice her daughter to a heartless beast so that she would have more pin money?
The countess answered his question with her next words. He was shocked by the bitterness and the anger as she spoke of her own daughter. "Then I hope Emily does not fail you, as she failed her father and I by being born female."
Valentine wanted to burst through the door and take the countess to task. It was only because of the risk to Emily and to his sisters as well, from the countess's wrath that he stopped himself from coming to Emily's defense. Perhaps it was his own sister's mistreatment by their father that fueled his anger. As twins, he as the male and heir had received favored treatment, while Miranda was expected to be faultless and yet trusted to do nothing without guidance. It had rankled her all her life.
The marquess, however, seemed to find nothing objectionable in the countess's attitude. "I shall do my best to see that she bears me a son, rest assured."
Valentine clenched his fists, thinking of Emily as she had been the night he spent in her room, vulnerable and yet brave. He could not allow this marriage. He would not allow it.
The countess's laugh was not pleasant. "I have perfect confidence that you will, my lord." Valentine backed away from the door, glancing left and right to make certain that he had not been seen spying here at the door. He was cold and numb. Emily's mother would not change her mind. Part of her was actually hoping that Emily would be miserable — that she might not even bear the marquess a son.
He glanced at the papers in his hand. No letter would change that fact. Could even the faultless Duke of Kerstone, make her see reason? She bore no love for her daughter, her words proved that. And how could he tell
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