A deep groove appeared between his brows. “Eventually, yes, but not now and not at his whim. As you’ve mentioned in the past, Crenshaw Iron takes up much of my life. I don’t have the time to devote to a family right now.”
“I’m afraid you won’t find a sympathetic audience with me. I had this conversation with my parents at sixteen, seventeen, and again at eighteen years of age when I was betrothed. You’ve had at least a decade longer to enjoy not being married, and look at your sisters.”
His scowl deepened. “You’re saying that I should relent?”
“No, not precisely. I don’t condone forced marriage, as you know.” That seemed to placate him, and he relaxed. “Though I do understand you are busy, people of our station in life have to marry. It is the law, probably.” She smiled.
“Our station?” His brow ticked upward again. “Are you saying that I am your equal, Lady Helena?” He put a particular drawl on her title that she found very pleasing.
“Of course not, but near enough.” She teased him, hoping to lighten her own troubled feelings.
“And you’re not married.” He gave her a pointed look.
Not because her parents hadn’t tried to pack her off again. “A perquisite of widowhood.”
He blinked, looking chastened. “I’m sorry. That was unforgivable.”
Waving off his apology, she asked, “Has he picked a bride who is wholly unsuitable?”
“He hasn’t chosen one. I’m to pick my own bride by the end of the year.”
The marriage wasn’t set, then. Relief swamped her, but she wouldn’t allow herself to examine why. He stood in agitation and walked over to look out the window. The street was fairly busy with midday traffic, but he seemed lost in his own head rather than taking in the scene.
“You have been bidden to marry, but you get to choose your own bride. That’s more consideration than your poor sisters were given.”
He whirled; hot anger tightened his features and made something deep inside her clench in response. “You know that I was against what they did to my sisters. I came over here twice to try and stop it.”
“And yet they are both married now.” What in the devil was wrong with her? Why was she needling him this way? She only knew that she liked the wave of fury that drifted over his features, turning his eyes hot and dark, and making his body tighten as he closed in on her. She stood to meet him, feeling her heart beat in every extremity. It didn’t beat with fear but with exhilaration as he came to a stop a mere foot away from her.
“Are you saying that I should have done more? That this is my penance?”
What was she saying? This was madness, and yet, she couldn’t stop.
“Perhaps. Women have been sacrificed for centuries at the whims of wealthy men. It’s only fair that a few men fall as well.” The passion of his response was surprisingly addictive. When every interaction she ever had was restrained and veiled in refinement, he gave her something true. Real pieces of himself that she could hoard away.
His jaw clenched. She had the strangest urge to run her fingertips along his close-cropped beard to see if it was as soft as it looked. “Then you won’t help me?”
“I didn’t say that.” Somehow, she managed not to sound breathless, even though she could barely draw air because every time she did his scent made a fresh surge of excitement flicker in her belly. He smelled spicy and warm and clean. “I merely meant to demonstrate your place of privilege.”
He stared at her, his gaze taking in every imperfection in her face, leaving the echo of a sensation everywhere it touched. Even the density of his form seemed to weight the air around her. “I’ll concede you’ve made a fair point,” he said, the tension leaving his jaw. “You’ll forgive me if I attempt to thwart my fate.”
“And you want me to help you do it?”
He gave a single nod, not bothering to step back to keep a respectable distance between them. She didn’t mind.
“Why don’t you want to marry now, Mr. Crenshaw? You’re the right age; you’ve mentioned a desire for children.”
“I’d like to take my time and find the right woman. I want a union of mutual respect and affection, someone who can be a true partner to me instead of an ornament at my table and on my arm. An equal. I’m prepared to wait for such a woman.”
She parted her lips to respond, but no words were forthcoming. Perhaps she was losing her grasp on reality, but the position of his wife suddenly seemed very appealing.
He did not seem to notice. “I need your promise not to share with anyone what I’m about to tell you. It could hurt someone whom we both care deeply about.”
He spoke so emphatically that she had to agree. “I promise.”
He nodded again and leaned back against the edge of her desk, bringing him to nearly eye level with her. His thigh pressed against her skirt. “Papa knows he stands no chance of getting me to agree to a hasty marriage, so he’s upped the ante. While he’s been working on that ill-advised Indian railroad plan, August has been working on a special project. She’s obtained permission and the promise of funding to become a major contractor on the Prince Albert Dock. Papa has decided that if I don’t cooperate, he’ll pull resources from her so that she can’t follow through with the project.”
It seemed so cruel and unfair that Helena brought a hand to her chest. “But that will crush her. Not only will it crush her, she’ll be a laughingstock. You know how many doubt her abilities as it is because she’s a woman. This will prove them all right, at least in their eyes.”
“I know. It’s why we can’t tell her, but I’ve come up with a plan. As it stands now, the project isn’t due to start until the spring. Papa believes that he can bring me to heel before then, which is why he’s insisted on a betrothal announcement by the end of the year. He wants me married soon after. To stop him, we need to accelerate the timeline of the project.” He spoke fervently but with a calm that said he knew exactly what he was doing. His confidence set her at ease. She understood why people listened to him. “If she can begin production by the first of the year, then when I don’t marry, it will be too late for Papa to pull his support. The investors will have bought in, and there will be too many contracts at stake because the work will already have started.”
“This is why you need a temporary engagement?”
He nodded, his eyes lighting up with intrigue. “We can start a courtship over the next several weeks while I’m still in London. By Christmas we announce our engagement, privately to the family. I believe that will be enough to placate him. We can take our time setting a date and then drift apart over the ensuing months. It’ll all be perfectly believable, because I’ll be in New York, and you’ll be here. Once August has things up and running smoothly, we call off the wedding.”