Page 17 of Real Earls Break the Rules

“Not at all. Have a lovely time.”

How could he tell them? A gentleman didn’t discuss finances with the ladies of his household, and his sisters needed dresses and ball gowns befitting their station for the upcoming wedding. Helen was the oldest and the upcoming house party was to celebrate her engagement to the Marquess of Newchester. The party was another expense, but the dowager had made the arrangements as soon as the betrothal had taken place, and Brandon wouldn’t deny his sister her happy occasion. Caroline was only two years younger than Helen, and she had an eye for the latest Parisian fashions.

He loved them all. It was his responsibility to provide everything they needed.

His grandmother stepped into the room. “By your expression, I can only assume the coffers of the earldom are not as padded as you would like me to believe.”

She was a keen observer, and consequently, his father had always avoided her. The old earl had once said she was adept at reading his mind and he’d never appreciated the intrusion.

She studied him, her green eyes the exact shade of his own. “There’s no sense denying it. I knew my son’s weakness.”

His father had more than one, but Brandon held his tongue. “Helen and Caroline do not need to know.”

“I agree,” she said. “But you are aware that there is a way out of this predicament.”

Brandon’s muscles tensed. He knew what was coming.

“The Duke of Townsend’s daughter,” she said. “Lady Minerva is accompanying the duke and duchess here.”

Of course she would. Brandon suspected it was part of his grandmother’s master plan—celebrate Helen’s betrothal to the marquess and arrange for Brandon’s to the duke’s daughter.

Years ago, his father and the duke had made a drunken promise to marry off their son and daughter when they became of age. No contract had been signed. It wasn’t enforceable in a court. Brandon had been a toddler, and Lady Minerva had been a newborn. No one had mentioned it for years, and Brandon had never paid it attention and thought no one else would, either.

Until now.

“I was in leading strings, and she was a suckling babe. It was never formal,” he said.

“No matter. It can easily be made so.”

The duke’s daughter, Lady Minerva, was a pale blond with an ample bosom. She was not beautiful, but it wasn’t her looks that made her unattractive to Brandon. The lady was lacking in intelligence and she had an annoying tendency to speak incessantly on mundane topics. On the few instances he’d danced with her at a ball or conversed with her at a garden party, he’d ended up with an aching head.

Brandon was well aware of his duty. Minerva may be as intelligent as a turnip and chatter about inconsequential matters, but her enormous dowry could save the earldom.

“I don’t wish to discuss the duke’s daughter right now,” he said.

“When?”

He waved a hand. “Go meet the dressmakers. Please enjoy yourself.”

“Your father married your mother for her dowry,” the dowager pointed out.

And they despised each other. The thought of entering a marriage similar to his own parents’ made his gut clench. His parents didn’t have heated arguments or screaming matches. Theirs was a cold marriage filled with narrowed eyes, pursed lips, and ill-disguised hatred. Not an ounce of love could be found in the pile of stone of his family’s London mansion for the earl and countess’s children.

“It’s done all the time. You have no choice,” his grandmother said.

Brandon took a deep breath. “No, I can’t believe it. If I can mange to turn around another business, we will have more than enough—”

“For heaven’s sake, Brandon. There is no other way.” She stepped closer to his desk. “You must—”

“Do my duty?”

“Yes.”

Brandon’s jaw tightened. At his silence, her face fell slightly and she touched his hand. “Listen, my dear boy, doing your duty doesn’t mean the end of all enjoyment in your life.”

He knew exactly what she meant. Do your duty and take your pleasure elsewhere.

“Now think of what I’ve said. Meanwhile, your sisters are waiting outside. I promise to limit their selections.”