He rolled his eyes. “This should be torture then.”
“Or amusing,” she replied, hiding a smile. It could be torture, but she’d suffer the pain if it made the couple happy.
When the playing commenced, she listened for a respectful few minutes, but the pair were making a mess of the passages and talking more than playing. She turned to Walter, unable to remain silent about his surprising purchase. “Thank you for buying my grandmother’s house. It looks lovely now.”
At first she had thought her father had spent money on the repairs that had brought the house to life again. She couldn’t ever pass it without being filled with longing for those happier times. But it was not her father’s way to spend more than the minimum sum required on any property he owned. She should have known better than to think so well of him.
He nodded. “The current tenants spend a lot of time in the garden so it’s well tended thanks to the horde of children they have.”
“A family lives there?”
“Yes, the Clarksons came to Brighton three years ago and have been exceptionally good tenants.” He sighed. “If only more were like them.”
Clarkson’s eldest son had been one of her suitors. “You own other property?”
He nodded. “A dozen houses and shops around Brighton.”
Her eyes widened at the number. “But that would make you—”
She glanced away quickly. It would make him a prize on the marriage mart. It was a miracle more ladies hadn’t set their cap for him on the strength of his wealth alone.
“What?”
“You must be one of the richest men in Brighton,” she whispered quietly so her brother did not overhear her remark.
If Walter thought it odd she questioned his finances, he gave no sign. He shrugged. “Not quite. Mr. Hartwood is ahead of me, as is Hawke.”
The pianoforte fell silent.
“But you do not act as if you could buy anything you wanted,” Julia stated boldly. “You do not dress a dandy nor flaunt your wealth. No one has ever spoken of you in those terms.”
Melanie winced. It was one thing to privately assess the assets of a gentlemen, but quite another to have the discussion in a drawing room after a dinner party where the man was a guest.
“Well, that can only be to my advantage.” He grinned and seemed entirely unbothered by the discussion. “I must admit I’m not sorry to be spared the fortune hunters seeking me out. I’d much rather be liked for myself than for my money.”
“Miss Langston is assuredly after a wealthy husband,” Julia warned him.
“You could marry anyone you like,” Melanie added in quickly, determined to turn him away from the young lady. Miss Langston wouldn’t do for Walter George. Imogen disliked the girl immensely because she did not care to read. That had to be a consideration in his choice.
“That is true.” He shrugged again, as if finding the topic boring. “With your dowry, Miss Merton, I’m sure you could have done the same long ago too. We have a lot in common in that respect.”
“What about Miss Vickers?” Julia suggested. “She’s very pretty.”
Valentine burst out laughing. “My word, this is interesting. I’ve never had a front-row seat to two people matchmaking one poor man. Terribly unfair. I think he should have a chance at it, too. Since there is only one unmarried woman in the room, who would you pick for Melanie to marry, Walter?”
“Well, now. That is a serious question.”
Her stomach flipped as his attention locked on her. Walter deserved to know her mind before another moment passed, before he suggested something he’d later regret.
She swallowed nervously. “Except I don’t wish to marry.”
“I’m sure in time you’d grow accustomed to being held,” he assured her with a soft smile.
“That is not the reason.” She met his gaze. “I don’t wish for children, and a husband would expect me to comply.”
He blinked and then is eyes widened in surprise.
Beyond him, Julia and Valentine gasped.