As emotion coiled inside Bennet and sapped his control, he fretted the worst would come, that he would succumb to fury or tumble into hopelessness. This situation certainly felt hopeless.
Bennet reached back and flattened his palm against the bark of the tree, pressing his hand into the rough grooves. He searched for and somehow found a piece of clarity amidst the tumult in his head. “Lucien will ensure you get the dowry. He’s not a man who gives up easily.”
“You don’t know Warfield,” she said darkly, her lip curling slightly. “He’s as heartless as anyone can be.”
Dowry or not, Bennet would marry her. He might not want a child, but it seemed he was going to have one. “We should still get married.” He realized that wasn’t a proposal any woman wanted to hear. Nor was the one he’d given Mrs. Merryfield when he’d proposed a “mutually beneficial union.” Prudence deserved better.
He took his hand from the tree and drew a deep breath. “Marry me, Prudence.” He glanced toward her abdomen, wondering if there truly was a babe within her. His babe. He could be a father. How he wanted there to be joy. But there was only fear.
“What if there’s no dowry?” She paused, her anguished gaze meeting his. “Or no baby?” Her voice squeaked on the last syllable.
Then he would be poor but relieved. “We will manage. At Riverview, we demonstrated our ability to clean, cook, and work hard. We’ll survive.”
Her features softened, and he saw in her the relief he couldn’t possibly feel. “Yes, I’ll marry you. What about your other…arrangement?”
He would call on Mrs. Merryfield tomorrow—after he obtained a special license to wed Prudence. He couldn’t imagine Margaret would be happy, but she would have to understand. It wasn’t as if anything had been formally announced, and the banns had not yet been read, of course. “Don’t worry about that. Just ready yourself to become Lady Glastonbury on Saturday, assuming I can procure the special license tomorrow.” He hoped that wouldn’t be a problem.
Her eyes widened. “So soon?”
He couldn’t decide if she seemed surprised or tense or apprehensive, or all those things. “The sooner, the better, right?”
He wanted to ask how she was feeling, but realized it didn’t matter how either of them felt. Neither wanted to marry or have children, yet here they were. They would make the best of it. At least they liked each other a great deal—or so it seemed to him.
“Yes, I suppose that’s for the best.” She sounded uncertain, but again, he didn’t want to ask her how she felt.
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead. “This isn’t what we planned or perhaps what we wanted, but I think others marry with far less on their side,” he said pragmatically, hoping to convey the positive aspects of this shocking and perhaps unwelcome development. “We enjoyed each other’s company at Riverview, didn’t we?”
“After a time,” she admitted, provoking him to smile.
“And we certainly enjoyed each other in bed. Or did I imagine that?”
“You did not. I enjoyed that very much.”
He pulled back and looked down at her. “Then this is a very good start.”
His lips found hers, and he managed to keep the despair at bay.
Chapter 16
Bennet stood in Mrs. Merryfield’s elegant drawing room on Bruton Street not far from Berkeley Square. Her house was larger and far better appointed than Bennet’s. He felt the financial difference between them quite keenly. This would have bothered him before.
Before what?
Before Prudence. More accurately, before the time they’d spent at Riverview, where he’d glimpsed a simpler and not unwelcome life.
Now he would marry Prudence and they might need to live that simply. He found he was not upset about that. Oh, he still had to find a way to pay for Aunt Agatha’s care. He refused to do what Aunt Judith suggested. He wouldn’t sacrifice whatever comfort his aunt enjoyed to save money. That was the problem. He didn’t want to ask any of his relatives to change the way they lived because of his father’s mistakes. They shouldn’t have to suffer. Which was why he found himself in the dire position of having to marry an heiress.
Or not, as he was about to disengage himself from Mrs. Merryfield. He was surprisingly calm about that.
Because he knew it was the right thing to do. The thought of marrying her had done nothing but make him agitated, even if it had seemed the easiest choice.
Mrs. Merryfield strode in, her gait confident and her features set into a pleasant expression of welcome. She was a handsome woman, and in other circumstances, perhaps Bennet would have found her more attractive—she possessed strength and intelligence, which he admired. “Glastonbury,” she said. “What a charming surprise.”
A bead of dread worked its way up his spine. “May we sit for a moment?” He gestured toward a smaller seating area at one side of the large room.
“Certainly.” She went to take a chair—not the settee where they might have sat together. Bennet was glad, for he didn’t particularly want to sit close to her to deliver this news.
He took a deep breath and got to the heart of things. “I’m afraid I’ve come to dissolve our arrangement.”
She looked as if she’d frozen. She didn’t blink or swallow or move in any way. She didn’t even seem to breathe. At last, she spoke. “Did I hear you correctly? You no longer wish to marry me?”
“I’m afraid I find myself in another situation that would prevent me from wedding you. It’s not your fault, nothing you have done. I am deeply sorry to cause you any distress.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “We made an agreement. The settlement is being drawn up today.”
He knew that and was thankful he hadn’t yet signed it. “I came to tell you as soon as possible. I do apologize for the trouble.” He didn’t flinch from the rising anger in her gaze.
“This is highly infuriating,” she said tightly, her hands clasped together in her lap. “We had an agreement,” she repeated. “Furthermore, you need my money.” Her nostrils flared. “Did you find a more preferable bride? Someone in the peerage, I’m sure.”
“It’s not like that. I am going to marry someone else, but not because of money.” He wanted to be honest with her—she deserved that.
“What, you fell in love?” Her lip curled. “How foolish you are to choose that over security. Perhaps your current situation is more due to your ineptitude than you would like to admit. Blame your father all you like, but if you would choose love over security, you can’t be very astute.”
Her vitriol surprised him, but then he didn’t know her very well. And he didn’t like what she said. What if he was making a bad decision, just as his father nearly always did? Mrs. Merryfield was the better choice: she already had children, she would hardly come to Aberforth Place, and her money was assured. But Prudence…and the baby.
Bennet swallowed, hating the discomfort roiling in his chest. “If it makes you feel better to malign me, please do so. This is rather inexcusable of me, but it must be done.” Even if it was a poor choice. He didn’t think it was—and perhaps this meant he really was like his father, that he couldn’t escape the same end. He clenched his hand into a fist and flexed it back flat again.