Page 34 of To Dance with a Devil

“Is there any reason you might fail to inherit?” she asked, blunt as ever.

She thought his mouth twitched but she couldn’t be certain. It was a very long way away.

“I might die, I suppose,” he said, rubbing his hand over his chin as he stared at her. It made an odd scritching sound that made her want to put her hands on him too. Ruth fought the urge to stare and concentrated on his words instead. Frankly, it seemed unlikely that death would dare to come for Gordon Anderson. He’d frighten it off.

“But if you had sons when you died, the eldest would inherit?”

His eyebrows went up. “Aye.”

Ruth felt the heat sweep her from her head right down to her toes, but she never wavered. She’d likely never have a chance like this again, and she’d not lose it now.

“And would you leave the running of the household to your wife and not interfere in her decisions?”

He considered this for a moment. “Aye, so long as it dinnae interfere with my life.”

“Of course not. A well run household ought only add to your comfort. And the children, they would also be her affair?”

“Daughters certainly,” he said, dismissing this as if it were of little importance. Ruth bit back her irritation; she was too used to the idea that females were of no use or value other than their ability to marry well. “Sons, however, they’d need to learn from their da.”

Da. This man could give her fine, handsome sons, no doubt. He’d be their father. Her breath quickened.

“But you would allow your wife a say in their upbringing, their education?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, considering her. “Aye. Reckon I would.”

Ruth took a deep breath and then gave a businesslike nod and held out her hand.

“A deal then, Mr Anderson.”

“Oh, Ruth, no!” Bonnie exclaimed. “Jerome, do something!”

Jerome gaped, looking as though he’d had quite enough shocks for one day without sorting anyone else’s problems out.

“Ruth, darling,” Matilda said, coming over and taking her hand before Anderson could shake it. “Don’t you think this is all rather sudden?”

“Sudden?” Ruth said with a bitter laugh. “Matilda, this is my sixth season. I’m prepared to do my duty by my family, but the only offers I’ve received so far have been so distasteful to me that I simply could not countenance them. One must face facts, and the fact is….” She turned back and looked once again at Mr Anderson, taking him in from head to toe. All six feet and quite a bit more of him. She fought the urge to sigh. “The fact is,” she said, wishing her voice hadn’t gone all faint and reedy, “he’ll suit me very well.”

She turned back to the man in question, who’d been watching the proceedings in silence, removed her hand from Matilda’s grip and offered it once again. “Well, Mr Anderson, what say you?”

He reached out and Ruth’s breath snagged in her throat as his warm, callused hand engulfed her own. “A deal, Miss Stone,” he rumbled, though there was a wary look in his eyes now that suggested he wasn’t certain he hadn’t lost his mind too. She could hardly blame him. Bonnie might have a lot less money, but she was far prettier than Ruth and, though voluptuous, she wasn’t as big and cumbersome either. Still, hopefully he’d get used to her.

“Good,” she said, trying hard to smile when she rather felt a large brandy and a lie down in a dark room was what she needed.

“You’d best go and pack then,” he said, sending all her hopes for a moment’s peace shattering as she jolted in alarm.

“P-Pack?” she said, striving for calm. “N-Now?”

“Aye, lass,” he said, his eyes glinting with amusement and challenge. “I leave tomorrow morning. We’ll be wed as soon as we get to Scotland. I’d make haste if I were you.”

“Anderson, you brute,” Bonnie exclaimed, rushing over in an absolute fury. “You can’t expect her to leap to do your bidding. I know you’re an unfeeling beast, but if the poor fool has lost her senses enough to agree to marry you, the least you can do is give her a few weeks to get used to the idea and for her friends to see her off.”

“What, and give her time to think better of it?” he said, shaking his head at her. “I’m nae so foolish as all that, lassie.”

“No, it’s quite all right, Bonnie,” Ruth said, astonished by how calm she was now, or perhaps that was shock setting in? She felt rather numb. “Mr Anderson is right. There’s little point in dillydallying, though my father will want to speak to you about the dowry, no doubt.”

“Lass, if the fellow will give me fifty thousand pounds there’s little I will object to, so long as I keep control of where and how it’s spent.”

“I have my own money and property,” Ruth said warily. “That will not be a part of the dowry.”