a proclivity that I do not share. However, the estate manager is, I gather, an excellent man, whose family have run the Fearnoch lands for generations.’
‘Like Kate,’ Eloise exclaimed. ‘That is exactly why she married my uncle—because her father was the estate manager here, and Daniel was never interested, and Kate loves Elmswood Manor and—and so you see, I do understand why it is important to you to do what is right.’
‘Thank you. There is one other factor which is pertinent to my decision.’ Alexander shifted in his chair, frowning. ‘If you will bear with me. It is not my habit to discuss such personal matters. It does not come easy to me, but under the circumstances, I think it vital that you fully understand my motives for wishing to make this unconventional match.’
Her instinct was to reach over, to touch him reassuringly, but she caught herself just in time. ‘It can’t be easy, to be so painfully honest to a complete stranger. Please, take your time.’
‘The matter concerns my mother’s settlement which I discovered to be woefully inadequate.’
‘Your mother! But she is a dowager countess. Your father was a very rich man. Surely when she married him, your mother’s parents would have ensured her jointure reflected her circumstances.’
‘I have no idea what the original arrangements were. The were amended in the Sixth Earl’s will.’
‘The Sixth Earl being your father?’
‘Her husband. The amended settlement which my mother was granted on his death would be insulting if it were not frankly punitive.’
‘Punitive! What on earth can she possibly have done to deserve such shabby treatment?’
Alexander’s fingers dug into the arms of the chair. ‘The reasons are less pertinent than the net effect, which is that the terms would force my mother to rely upon the goodwill and generosity of others in order to survive. I will not have her reduced to such penury.’
‘But your father died almost three years ago. Surely your brother...’
‘My brother provided for her, while he was alive, by installing her in the Dower House on the Lancashire estates. Whether he intended to amend the provision made for her at some point is another question that must remain unanswered for ever. The fact is that he did not, and my personal circumstances do not allow me to supplement the paltry allowance to what I consider an appropriate level.’
‘And if your cousin, Raymond Sinclair, inherited? No, I suppose from what you’ve said that you could not trust him to do right by her.’
‘Precisely. You understand now, Miss Brannagh, why I believe it is my duty to marry?’
‘I do and I think your reasons are extremely laudable.’ Though he had not explained why he was so averse to marriage in the first place. Perhaps his Admiralty career rewarded him insufficiently to maintain a household—but he didn’t dress like a man on the breadline. He was the son of an earl, albeit the second son, surely his father would have given him an allowance? Though the same father had made a pauper of his wife. And Alexander had been, in his own words, brought up very differently from his brother, the heir. Eloise knew from her own experience that this could only mean that he was treated very much as second best.
Aware that her thoughts had run away from her, she looked up, discovering to her consternation Alexander watching her carefully. ‘I was just wondering why you are considering me as a wife, when...’
‘There are women queueing up for the privilege?’ He smiled faintly. ‘Perhaps because there are not. What I’m wondering is why you are considering my proposal. To put it bluntly, Miss Brannagh, though we will live separate lives once we have established the marriage in the eyes of the world, we will remain legally married. For the sake of appearances, Fearnoch House in London must be your main residence—and I hope you will treat it as your home. For form’s sake it must be my home too, during the time when my work does not detain me abroad. So our paths will cross, albeit infrequently, though Fearnoch House is, I gather, large enough to permit us to live under its roof without encountering each other unless we wish to.’
‘You gather? I thought you said it was the family home?’
‘And has been for generations, but it has never been my home.’
For reasons he did not wish to discuss, judging by his tone. ‘But—forgive me, your brother died almost a year ago, and though you were abroad at the time, you’ve been back in England...’
‘Until I marry, Miss Brannagh, I have no rights to anything but the title. Fearnoch House has been closed up since Walter died. The family lawyer has been administering the estate. My mother continues in the Dower House in the country, and I have continued in my own lodgings.’
‘I had no idea.’
‘Why should you?’
Since Eloise could think of nothing to say to this, she decided, wisely, for once to say nothing.
‘I can assure you that once we are married—if we marry,’ Alexander continued, ‘you will be free to live your life as you choose, but—forgive me, but I think it imperative that we are clear on one delicate matter. Since there can be no question of a divorce or even an annulment, you understand that there can be no prospect of your having children?’
Once again, her cheeks flamed. She had not anticipated their discussions becoming so personal. ‘I do understand that, and I assure you it’s not an issue,’ Eloise said hurriedly. ‘I am not—I’m not—that more intimate aspect of marriage does not appeal to me. Furthermore, I have never wanted children.’
‘May I know why?’
She didn’t want to explain herself, reluctant to recall those miserable years in Ireland. Already, she had the impression that Alexander Sinclair was the type of man who saw a great deal more than he let on, and she didn’t want him peering into the dark nooks and crannies of her past. ‘If we do not have children—I mean, if you and your wife don’t have offspring, then the Fearnoch estates will pass to your cousin, I presume?’
‘Yes, though I don’t see why...’
‘My point is, that’s what you’re trying to avoid, isn’t it—his bringing the estates to rack and ruin. I am not suggesting that you will die prematurely...’ As his brother did! ‘What I mean is, that there’s a chance, at some point, that what you’re trying to prevent might come to pass if you don’t have children of your own.’
‘No, there’s no chance of that.’ Alexander said grimly. ‘I haven’t made myself clear. As far as the estates are concerned, my intentions are first to protect them by preventing my cousin from inheriting, and then to secure them for the future by ridding myself of them.’
‘Ridding yourself?’
‘I believe that those who have lived and farmed the lands for generations are far more entitled to profit from them than I.’
‘That is an extremely philanthropic point of view to take.’
‘It is a question of what is right, as well as what is in the best interests of those concerned.’
There was that tightness in his expression again that made her feel uncomfortable, as if she had
