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He walked to the fireplace and pulled on the cord to summon a servant.
“I do have a condition, though.”
“You have a condition?” Richard snarled.
“Your reputation precedes you. You frequent my club. You’ve also been known to have a lover or two. I know your type, and I have personally seen rakes reformed into loyal and committed husbands. Your older brother Preston is an example. Once you step out of my study engaged,” continued Blackmore, “you may not look in any other woman’s direction. You may not even think of another female. If you do…if a single tear of sadness rolls down my sister’s face, I will cut off the most precious part of your body. Please tell me you understand.”
Richard’s fists clenched and unclenched in helpless rage. He had never been unfaithful, making it a point to set clear expectations with any woman with whom he had an affair. He knew all too well the devastating, world-shattering pain of seeing the woman he loved in the arms of another man. He’d never inflict that heartbreak on someone else.
“I do not need a reminder from you of how to be loyal and committed to my betrothed. However, I have not agreed to your proposal yet.”
Footsteps sounded from behind the door, it opened, and the footman who had guided Richard to Blackmore entered.
“Bring Jane here,” said Blackmore.
The man nodded and left.
“You cannot be serious,” growled Richard, but Blackmore ignored him and strode to a sideboard that bore a decanter of amber liquid.
“You’ll see, Lord Richard.” He poured the liquor into two glasses and offered one to Richard. “Finest whisky of Lagavulin Distillery. My MacDonald connections.”
Richard’s jaw muscles tensed, but he accepted the drink. Now that he’d had a moment to breathe a little, he realized that the situation wasn’t as bad as he’d initially thought. At least now he had a starting point of negotiation.
Of course he wouldn’t marry.
Richard had grown up witnessing the true happiness between his parents. His father, a man who was known for being demanding and strong-willed, had somehow managed to capture his lighthearted and friendly mother’s heart.
Richard had thought he’d found someone with whom he could be as happy as his parents were. But he’d been terribly wrong. After Lady Charity, he’d sworn he would never open his heart again, never take a wife.
A few minutes later, there was a knock against the door, and it was flung open. The footman came in again and held the door open, and from the darkness of the endless labyrinth emerged a woman.
Her translucent eyes fell on him from behind her spectacles, and Richard was left speechless. It was the bluestocking he’d met earlier, the infuriating, know-it-all schoolteacher…
She was Blackmore’s sister.
Shock left him speechless. And the expression in her eyes was as astonished as his own.
“Miss Jane Grant,” Blackmore said. “Jane, this is Lord Richard Seaton. He is interested in marrying you.”
Shaking off his stupor, Richard glared at Blackmore, feeling his jaw work. “Your brother is mistaken—”
Blackmore interrupted him. “You remember our agreement, Jane?” he asked her without throwing a second glance at Richard. “You promised. Last attempt.”
Miss Grant tore her shocked eyes away from Richard and glared at her brother.
“But, Thorne—” she began.
Blackmore walked two steps towards her. His emotionless mask fell off, and for the first time since Richard had met him, he looked like he may care about something. “Lord Richard is the brother of a duke, one of the most powerful and oldest bloodlines in England. Grandhampton.”
Her eyes widened as she returned her gaze to Richard, studying him.
He felt a shiver run across his body, an immediate urge to straighten his shoulders and wipe the unfortunate mud stains from his clothes. Silly. It must be her authoritative demeanor. Nothing but judgment, he decided. Just like back in the yard, she condemned him for his appearance.
A man like him didn’t need to impress a bluestocking. But he would be damned if he didn’t like her big gray eyes on him, the flush in her cheeks, her chest rising and falling faster under that gray muslin.
“You will return to the noble society to which you have always belonged, Jane,” said Blackmore. “Where you should be. The Seasons you missed because our father died robbed you of a proper introduction into the ton. But this is your chance at the life you should have always had.”
Their father’s death… Richard struggled to remember who that could be, if he had heard the name Grant or Blackmore before, but failed.
