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“That probably wasn’t the best way to bring it up.”

“Gee, you think?” I threw my arms out and glared at him. “What on Earth is going through your mind, Matthew? What made you wake up this morning and propose that preposterous… proposal… to me? What makes you think for a second that it’s a good idea?”

“All right, hold on. Untwist your knickers a minute and let me finish.” He put down his drink and stood up. “I am under a great deal of pressure from my mother and grandmother to get married. They’ve banded together in a gruesome twosome to pressure me into something I have no desire to do.”

I kept staring at him.

“Unfortunately, I’m also aware that I have no choice, unless I want the earldom to die out. There’s also a chance my pillock of a cousin could inherit it, and I really do not want that. It’s a patriarchal inheritance, so I must have a legitimate male heir through marriage to inherit it. My cousin is a blithering idiot at the best of times, and I can’t let my ancestors’ hard work be rinsed down the drain by him. We’re also not entirely sure he is actually my uncle’s son, but that’s another story.”

Well, if that wasn’t the story of the lives of most of the aristocracy for the past nine hundred years.

It was good to know society was consistent.

“I see no benefit to getting married,” Matthew continued. “I like my life as it is, and if it were up to me—or my cousin wasn’t such a bellend—I’d happily live the way I have been.”

“But you can’t,” I replied.

“I can’t,” he agreed. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and if I must get married and have children, I’d rather it be with someone I trust and whose company I enjoy.”

I tilted my head to the side. “And I’m the lucky girl.”

Extra sarcasm on the lucky.

He took a deep breath and slowly let it out again, before running his hand through his damp hair and turning away. “Yes. And believe me, I understand that what I’m asking of you is a huge thing, but I have thought this through.”

“I cannot possibly see how you’ve done such a thing and still come to the conclusion that this is a good idea. It’s absurd, Matthew. Absolutely bloody absurd.”

“It’ll be a contract.” He turned back to me, and his blue gaze locked onto mine. “A deal, Eva. One that benefits us both.”

“Marriage aside, you’re asking me to get pregnant, lug a baby about for nine months, then stretch my vagina to accommodate an entire human exiting my body. I cannot possibly see how any of those things will benefit me.”

“Well, when you put it like that…”

“We’re done here? Excellent.” I moved to get up, but he shook his head.

“No. You said you’d hear me out.”

Oh, sod it. I’d been raised that a lady never goes back on her word, and he was right. I had said I’d listen to everything he had to say.

I huffed and dropped back down onto the sofa.

“I don’t want to get married, and I know you feel the same way I do. If you marry me and pretend to be my wife, provide an heir, and we amicably separate after a few years, I’ll make sure you never have to want for anything. You’ll be housed, clothed, and well-looked after for the rest of your life.”

This had to be a joke. There was no way he was being serious. This was some Netflix romcom movie nonsense. This didn’t happen in real life, did it?

Certainly not in the twenty-first century.

Dear Matthew. King Henry VIII wants his medieval customs back.

A laugh slowly bubbled up, and I nervously let it out. “You’re kidding, aren’t you? This is a joke.”

His serious expression never faltered, not when he glanced away, and not when he shook his head.

Oh.

Oh.

Okay, then.

Maybe not.

“Oh, my gosh,” I whispered, pressing my hand to my chest as I got to my feet again. “You aren’t kidding.”

“I’m not,” he replied in a quiet voice. “I wish I were, but I’m not.”

“That’s an awful lot you’re asking of me, Matthew. Aside from the wedding and baby stuff, I’d be uprooting my entire life—leaving my job, my family, my home, and I wouldn’t really be getting an awful lot in exchange for it.”

“The hotel.”

“What hotel?”

“The Fox and Hound.”

I swallowed. “What about it?”

“It’s struggling, isn’t it? That’s what you’ve confided in me.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “If you think to blackmail me, then you can bloody well think again, because I—”

“No.” He took a few steps towards me. “Not blackmail, Eva, it’s part of my offer. I’ve been increasing my property portfolio in recent months—I have a hotel opening soon and another building I’m looking at on Anglesey. As your husband, I could offer your parents the support and funds they need to get the hotel back on its feet.”


Tags: Emma Hart The Aristocrat Diaries Romance