Page 44 of So Wild A Heart

“Cry off! Are you mad? The wedding is in two days. Besides, a gentleman can’t back out of it, and you know it.”

Michael raised his eyebrows. “Yes, I can see how it would damage your reputation.”

Devin shot him a disgusted look. “Oh, hell, Michael, you know I can’t. I need the money. The Aincourts have never had the luxury of marrying for love.”

“Yes, I know,” Michael replied quietly.

“Of course you do. I mean, you and Rachel—you had the same sort of arrangement. But it’s different for you. The two of you are rational, civilized sorts. You can live in harmony—do what you want, live separate lives.”

“Yes. We do.”

“But Miranda! She’s an odd creature. She has strange ideas about things.”

Michael nodded, waiting.

Devin downed the rest of his whiskey and set his glass down with a crack. “Dammit, she wants a platonic marriage!”

Michael blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“Have you ever heard of such a thing? She says we don’t love each other, so we shall go our separate ways, do what we want.”

Michael hesitated, then said, “I would think that such an accommodating wife would appeal to you.”

“Accommodating? I have never met anyone less accommodating than Miranda. She thinks we should go out and have affairs with other people.”

“I see. And you are against that?”

“The Countess of Ravenscar, having affairs with God knows who? Of course I am against it.”

“Then you are in favor of the two of you having a true marriage—fidelity and—”

Devin fixed him with a piercing look. “Don’t mock me, Michael. You know I never had any intention of being faithful to her. Of course I want to do what I want, have affairs. I just—well, I didn’t expect her to want them, too. She’s as bold and brassy as any bird of paradise.”

“Really? I thought she seemed refined. A bit outspoken, of course, but that was refreshing. Not at all coarse.”

“Of course she’s not coarse. Good God, Michael, why would you think that?”

“Well…’bold and brassy’ as a lightskirt,” Lord Westhampton reminded him.

“You know what I mean.” Devin got up and poured himself another drink. “She wants to restore the house. That is what she’s interested in. She wants to put the estate back in running order. That’s why she wants to marry me. I asked her where she wanted to go on the honeymoon—Paris? Vienna? Italy? Do you know what she said? ‘Oh, I don’t care much for a honeymoon, my lord,’” Devin said in a falsetto. “’I want to get right on the house. Papa and I have already scheduled an architect to come look at it.’ Now, does that sound like any woman you know?”

“No,” Michael admitted.

“Other women want honeymoons. They want babies and clothes and parties and such. She wants to fix things. It’s not natural.”

Devin slumped back broodingly in his chair. Across from him, Lord Westhampton hid a smile.

“She locked the connecting door,” Devin said suddenly.

“I beg your pardon.”

“Between our rooms. I didn’t really believe her. I assumed she would come around.” He shrugged and sipped at his drink, more slowly this time. “That’s part of her ‘going our separate ways’ idea. She said it would be a perfect solution. We wouldn’t have to pretend that we are in love. We wouldn’t have to go to the trouble of consummating our marriage. We could just live entirely separate lives.”

“And that is not what you want?”

“Well, what about heirs? There won’t be any, will there?”

“No. And I know an heir is important to you.”