She expected him to admit he wasn’t. He saw it in the jut of her chin, as if she was preparing for a blow. “I am very much part owner in a gaming hell,” he replied. “The name of the place is Brimstone. I have been part owner there for nigh on a decade.”
She blinked, her shoulders sagging at his honesty. “Oh.”
He reached out slowly and took her hand. She stiffened at the contact but did not pull back, which he would have to count as a win if the guarded look in her eyes was any indication.
“My father and I did not have a good relationship,” he explained quietly. It was a massive understatement, but she did not need to hear the entire ugliness of it all, how his father had been renowned for his brutality, how his words had hit as hard as his fists. “I left home quite young and began supporting myself immediately. The rest of what I said is true as well. I am looking for a marriage of convenience, to find someone I can rely on to watch out for my wards. You can live where you wish, can do as you like. I only ask that you care for the girls.”
She tilted her head, seeming to mull over his words, testing them for any insincerity. Suddenly her brows drew low over her eyes. “You can easily hire someone to mind them. Why shackle yourself to a stranger for life to see it done?”
“I have hired people. But my wards have not been easy to care for.” He gave her a close look, suddenly flooded with tension as he thought of the past years of frustration and trouble, each day bringing with it the deep sense that he was failing the girls. “While you have met Eliza and Nelly, there is also a third, Regina. You may recall seeing her when you and I first met outside the circulating library.” At her nod, he continued. “They came to me five years ago, upon the death of their grandmother. It was devastating to them to lose her, and I’m afraid they acted out in the worst ways. I indulged them, letting them run wild, thinking their grief would run its course. A mistake, perhaps, as they have only grown more rebellious.”
“I see,” Bronwyn responded, her expression thoughtful. For each second that ticked by and she retained that contemplative expression, however, the more his uncertainty grew. Damnation, had he made a fatal error in being so open about the girls’ troublesome behavior? Not many would willingly shackle themselves to such an unfortunate family, after all.
But she merely straightened and looked him in the eye. “And who are they to you?”
Again that tension, though this time tenfold. “Their grandmother was my mother’s old nurse,” he replied carefully, clenching his hands into fists on his knees.
Surely she would have more questions. She had a scientific mind, after all. Blessedly, however, she merely nodded.
“I like your wards,” she said. “And I look forward to making the acquaintance of the third.” Suddenly her tone gentled. “You’ve no need to worry about them while they are in my care.”
Her softly spoken words moved him in ways he never could have expected. He had assumed she would enter into their agreement in a cool, unfeeling way, focusing on what she could get out of their arrangement and nothing more.
Yet here she was, proclaiming her affection for Nelly and Eliza, showing interest in Regina, and doing what she could to put his mind at ease regarding all three. It had the most unnerving thickness settling in his throat, the strangest warmth and ache in his suddenly damp eyes.
To distract himself from these perplexing—and, if he was being honest, disturbing—reactions to her, he loudly cleared his throat and asked, “Are there any other questions I can answer for you?”
In the space of a moment, Bronwyn’s mood changed entirely. Gone was the forthright, assured woman, and in her place was one who was pale and uncertain. She nodded, one stiff jerk of her head before, swallowing hard, she asked, “And…and the marriage bed?”
Ah, of course. He couldn’t blame her for her uncertainty and distrust. He had deceived her, after all. And the moment he had managed to get her alone he had pawed at her like an eager green boy.
“Our union remains a business arrangement,” he replied gently. “It shall be one in name only. There will be no marital relations between us.”
Which, now that he had tasted her lips, sat like bitter gall in his stomach. But he would not go back on his word.
“I see,” she said. Why did her voice sound so small? And why did there appear to be regret in her eyes?
But those things didn’t remain long. That stubbornness that had been hinted at before took over her features. He didn’t know if he should be frightened or impressed at the speed of the change.
“Mr. Hawkins—er, Your Grace—er,Ash.” She stopped, clearly frustrated, before starting up again. “As you know, I am a naturalist.”
Why did he suddenly feel as if he were standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down into an unfathomable abyss?
“And as a naturalist,” she continued, “I have more than my share of curiosity in understanding the natural world.”
She paused, spearing him with a pointed look. He nodded, not knowing what else she wanted from him.
Blessedly, it seemed to satisfy her.
“While insects are my main field of study, I have always found myself drawn to all manner of creatures, from the very small to the very large and everything in between. That, of course, includes the human body, which, as you know, is part of that natural world. It greatly interests me how it moves, the sensations it might feel.” She cleared her throat. “Mating habits.”
He blinked. “Mating habits?” His voice sounded hoarse even to his own ears, as muffled with the roar of blood rushing through his veins as they were.
“Indeed.” Her face flooded with color, but she held his gaze. Adjusting her spectacles, she shifted, turning more fully toward him on the bench. “I know you said you did not want us to consummate this marriage. Now that we have kissed, however, I have a proposition for you.”
“A proposition.” The words tumbled from his numb lips. Why did he suddenly feel like a parrot, repeating everything she was saying?
“Yes, a proposition. I would very much like to consummate the relationship. For scientific purposes, of course.”