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“We deal well together, I think?”
“We do.”
“You have all the attributes any man could want in a wife, Isabella. Beauty, birth, grace, intelligence, wit, and strength of character. I admire you a great deal and I would hope we wouldn’t bore each other to death.”
“No, I don’t think we would bore each other, Jerome. But I’ve yet to hear anything that would tempt me to change my current state. I’m quite happy as I am, you see.”
“You’re not lonely?”
“I am not. I have friends to ameliorate that, you see. I counted you as one of those. Will you withdraw your friendship if I reject your offer?”
“I’m not so churlish,” he said, his heart sinking at the trend of the conversation. “But what can I say to persuade you to consider my offer?” He reached for her hand, and she let him take it. “As husband and wife, we would be more than friends. Does that prospect hold no allure for you? Do you not miss that intimacy that comes with marriage?”
She flushed, her eyes dropping, and he was aware of a subtle vulnerability in her that he had not detected before. “Does it make me unnatural to say no, I do not?”
“It suggests to me that you did not find the felicity you deserved in your previous marriage and are therefore wary of entering into another contract.”
“That is a fair assessment,” she admitted. His pulse quickened with a spurt of anger. Had her husband used her badly? Were all men beasts? Himself included? No, for his friends were not, as evidenced by their happy marriages.
“Forgive me, I am going to be indelicate.” He paused and squeezed her hand lightly. “Isabella, I can safely say you would enjoy intimacy with me, for I would make sure it was so.” He added, “You must know that my reason for entering into a marriage contract is the need for an heir. I cannot offer you a celibate marriage, and frankly, I would not wish to. I would hope to offer you motherhood. Is that not something you desire?”
“It is,” she admitted. “Although I had thought to give up any hope of it after five years of trying and failing. Given your desire for an heir, I am not the best choice for you, my lord. I am likely unable to bear children.”
“The fault may have lain with your husband. He was considerably older than you, was he not?”
“Yes. Since we are being so frank, he did have some difficulties in that regard. But we did persist. I suffered two miscarriages. So, you see, I may not be the wife you want at all.”
He kissed her hand. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” She looked away, but it didn’t disguise the pain she suffered and kept hidden from the world.
“Will you at least think about it?” he said.
She looked at him, a slightly puzzled look in her eyes. “You would still pursue this, after what I said?”
“Yes.” He paused. “There are many reasons for miscarriages that we cannot possibly know of. My mother suffered many. Yet she birthed two healthy children who lived to adulthood, myself and my sister. I would be far more concerned about our ability to have an heir together if you had never conceived at all.”
A slight, wistful smile curled her lips. “Very well, I will think about it.”
He nodded and kissed her hand again. And then her cheek. “I am going away for a few weeks—my estate in Northumberland requires some attention. When I return, I will hope to have a positive answer from you.”
He rose just as Miss Cartwright came back into the room. With a bow to both ladies he took his leave and left the house.
He couldn’t say he was happy, but he felt a little more settled. He knew what he needed to do now, and he was determined to do it. The past two years of agonized yearning for something he couldn’t have were at an end. He was hopeful that Isabella would agree to his proposal when she’d had time to consider it, but even if she didn’t, he was set on this course now and would find another candidate. But first he needed to put his house in order. He had neglected Ravenshaw abominably. The place held dark memories for him, and he’d been avoiding them for years. It was time he faced up to them and dealt with the past once and for all.
