Free Lady Varney's Risqué Business by Cerise Deland Page A

lips. “Why?”
    “I love him dearly. I have loved him since the first days he rescued me, and I shall love him until the day I die. I want to ask you to allow me to propose to your nephew, my lord.”
    The old codger seemed to float and gloat. “Wonderful. A woman who finally knows her own mind.”
    She tipped her head, confused. “ Finally ? My lord, what–?”
    He waved a hand at her. “Why must I waive the stipulations?”
    “Because I do not fit them all.”
    He hemmed and hawed. “You are an heiress in your own right.”
    She nodded.
    “You are well received, well regarded. Provided, of course, no one ever learns about what happened in the pantry and the library.”
    “I am. And no one will learn of it. They have not yet, and so I doubt it will come out.”
    “And the last stipulation?”
    “The dowry. The money. You must know, my lord, I have little. Henry left me nothing but the house in Cavendish Square. And for you to require Justin to marry a rich woman—”
    “In my position, would I not look the idiot if I did not insist on money for my heir?”
    “Well—”
    “Every man worth his salt declares it to be so. Don’t you agree?”
    “I do, but—”
    “And a man should also insist on his wife being prudent with his money.” He stared at her, then smiled. “Come, tell me about your finances.”
    “Oh, well, I–” She hesitated over that. Then realized any delay now was not only foolish but also counterproductive. About the need for Justin’s bride to be an heiress, had she succumbed to a presumption? One that did not exist? “I have paid off Henry’s debts with my earnings, and I live from moment to moment. But I plan to sell the house. If Justin will have me, I will not need it. I could bring that amount of money to the marriage, if he likes. And also, I will promise Justin to temper my spending on bonnets.”
    “And perfume?”
    Had she no secrets at all? Good God! Maggie had told Justin so many of her foibles, but clearly in turn, Justin had shared quite a few with his uncle! Oh, hell. Best to give in and get on with it! “Absolutely. No perfume or French chefs or silk negligees.”
    “Oh, my dear girl, if you marry Justin, you best buy the most diaphanous negligees your Parisian lingerie designer can sew!”
    “But I cannot marry Justin, my lord, unless you agree to free him from the necessity of marrying a rich woman.”
    He leaned forward and gazed into her eyes. In his, she saw the joy of an old man with a delicious secret. “My pet, Justin has been free to marry any woman he wished for more than ten years. He did not wish any of them. He wanted only one woman, and she was—until a year and a half ago—beyond his reach.”
    Tears dribbled down her cheeks. “You mean to say that he made up these stipulations? All of them?”
    “The frivolous ones. The golden blonde. The widow. The mother.” The earl nodded. “Of course he did.”
    “But your requirement for wealth?”
    “I freed Justin of that requirement the day Henry Varney died. At his demand.”
    “You knew then that Justin—?”
    “Wanted you for all these years. Would court you if he could. Marry you if he could persuade you. Yes. Oh, yes.”
    She sat there for an hour or more, visiting with the old man, laughing and talking with him. Finally, she asked one more question of him, “Where can I find Justin? He has disappeared from London, and none of the scandal mongers has even a clue where he might have gone.”
    * * * *
    Two days later, Kitty climbed down from the very same carriage with the very same coachman she’s had when she first came to Belmont Manor nearly two months ago. This time, the man seemed friendlier, but she was certain that was because he suspected risqué doings between her and the owner of the manse. The fact that she insisted he return in the hour from the village and that he not remove her trunk from his boot had him frowning.
    “Should I not just wait here for you, milady?” he asked