Page 63 of The Marriage Wager

“Dominic is headstrong, as always,” he went on.

“He is a man of strong principle,” Constance agreed.

“Phrase it how you like,” the Earl said with a shrug. “I think it will be easier to deal with you than with my son. You, I trust, will be more understanding about where your best interests lie.”

He was, she thought, going to try to talk her out of marrying Dominic. It seemed ironic that he intended to convince her to do what she had already decided to do. She should agree, she thought, and ask him for the use of his carriage back to London. However, his manner, both toward her and regarding Dominic, had the effect of making her want to do the opposite of what he asked.

“I realize that you stand to gain a great deal from this marriage,” he said, resting his elbows on his desk and steepling his hands together. “Of course, I would not expect you to give that up without some compensation. I am prepared to provide it.”

Constance gaped at him. “I beg your pardon? Are you offering to pay me not to marry Dominic?”

“Naturally.” He pulled a small leather pouch from a drawer and plopped it down on the desk in front of him. Pulling the drawstrings apart, he poured a handful of gold coins out on the desk.

Constance’s gaze went to the coins, then back to the Earl. She was so appalled at his suggestion that she could not speak.

Lord Selbrooke gave her a tight smile. “Of course. I can see that you do not consider that enough. I did not expect it to be.”

He pulled out a piece of velvet and laid it on the desk beside the coins. Carefully, he unfolded the cloth to reveal a necklace of rubies and diamonds, glittering against the soft background of black velvet.

“It is a FitzAlan family heirloom,” he explained. “It has been in my family since the time of the second earl. My grandmother had her portrait painted wearing this necklace.” He looked at her. “It is worth a great deal. You can sell it and have a healthy nest egg. But without the encumbrance of a husband.”

Constance rose from her chair. She was trembling with anger, and she clasped her hands together tightly so that he could not see their shaking. “That is what you think of me?” she asked. “That I would take your money not to marry Dominic? I don’t understand you, my lord, and clearly you do not understand me. You cannot buy me. I will not barter my good name for coins and jewels.”

She whirled and stalked to the door. She turned and looked back at him, her eyes flashing. “I do not plan to marry your son. I would not let Dominic’s honor force him into a marriage he did not want. But I would never spurn him for money. Or to please you. Goodbye, my lord. I will leave your house as soon as possible.”

Constance stalked out of the room. She hurried down the hall, struggling to hold back the tears of anger that threatened to flood out. She felt furious and humiliated, and she wanted to leave immediately.

The only problem, of course, was how to do it. If she had to, she thought, she would pack her things and walk to the village. From there, she was not sure what she would do. She would have to ask Francesca for a loan for the mail coach fare, although she dreaded facing her friend’s questions. Perhaps if she did not tell her why she needed the money…

But what if the mail coach did not come through the village tomorrow? What would she do? She suspected that if Dominic learned she had left, he would come after her. He would refuse to let her ruin her good name. She must get away—far away and quickly.

She hurried up the stairs and started down the hall toward her room, her head down in thought. Suddenly she stopped. She stood for a moment, thinking, then turned and strode purposefully down the hall. She rapped sharply on the door, and a voice called to come in. Constance opened the door and stepped inside to face Muriel Rutherford.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

MURIEL’S BROWS DREW together thunderously. “What are you doing here? Did you come to gloat?”

“No,” Constance replied evenly. “I came to ask for your assistance.”

“My word, you have a lot of gall,” said an older woman’s voice, and Constance turned to see Muriel’s mother, seated in a chair to the side of the bed. “You think that we would help you? When you have made my daughter a laughingstock?”

Constance held on to her temper. “Lady Rutherford, I have done nothing to hurt you or your daughter.” She did not think it wise to add that Lady Muriel had made herself an object of ridicule, if anyone had. “I am quite aware of how you feel about me. However, I think you might be willing to allow me this one favor.”

The older woman narrowed her eyes shrewdly. “Why?”

“Because I believe you would find it to be in your best interests.”

“Whatever are you talking about?” Muriel snapped.

“I have heard that you are planning to leave Redfields tomorrow. Is that true?”

“Yes,” Muriel replied bitterly. “We will sneak out of here at the break of dawn. The fewer who witness my humiliation the better. What does that have to do with you?”

“I am asking you to let me travel with you to London.”

The other two women stared at Constance as if she had taken leave of her senses.

“What? Are you mad?” Muriel asked.