An Earl In Want Of A Wife. Laura MartinЧитать онлайн книгу.
His whole world had come crashing down. He knew first-hand what tragedy haunted illegitimate children. He’d seen the suffering and the contempt and he knew it was the very last thing he would wish upon anyone, let alone his own son.
He’d tried to take the child, but Annabelle had refused. And then the blackmail had started.
Daniel watched as the carriage pulled up outside his town house. In a daze he stumbled out on to the pavement, paid the driver and made his way up the steps. Once safely ensconced in his study, he reached for the whisky and started to drink. He wanted to drink to forget and he wanted to drink to numb the pain.
* * *
After two glasses of whisky Daniel started to feel a little more in control. He poured one final glass, then set down the decanter and regarded it for a second. Later he could get drunk, later he could lose himself in the oblivion of alcohol, but right now he needed his wits about him.
Annabelle was only here for one reason. Despite all his pleas and his following of her terms she never let him see his son other than when she wanted something. Then it was just a brief encounter like today in the park. Daniel longed to sit the boy on his knee, to read him a story, or perhaps take him for his first riding lesson, but he knew all of that was impossible. He was destined to be in the background for ever, never knowing his son’s personality, his likes and dislikes, never knowing what made him laugh and what made him cry.
Annabelle was here for money. Again. Every few months she turned up and demanded even more. Sometimes she came alone, sometimes she brought Edward with her, allowing Daniel just a fleeting glimpse of his son, but always the demand was the same. Pay up or the whole world gets to know Edward is illegitimate. Including Edward himself. Daniel knew he couldn’t have that on his conscience. He needed the boy to grow up happy, to grow up thinking he had lost his father in the war. Better to have a hero for a father than to be illegitimate. Daniel couldn’t bear his son’s heart breaking as other children tormented him for that. He knew what the consequences could be and he wasn’t about to risk that with his own son.
The problem was he didn’t have any money. Annabelle had bled him dry over the past few years, demanding more and more. He knew it would never stop, but he couldn’t see any other way out. Hence his need for a wealthy wife. A good-sized dowry would keep Annabelle at bay for years to come and when that ran out, well, maybe then his son would be old enough and strong enough to learn the truth, to be able to withstand the jibes from society and still hold his head up high.
Taking a gulp of the whisky, Daniel relished the burning sensation in his throat and wondered how long it would take Amelia to agree to marry him. Maybe a couple of weeks if he worked fast, but then it would still be even longer until the wedding. He could apply for a special licence, but doing so would raise suspicion. He sighed. One thing Annabelle wasn’t was patient. Now she had turned up in London he expected to hear her demands within the next day or two, then he would have a matter of weeks to raise the money. If he didn’t, then she would threaten to reveal the truth to Edward and to the world.
Daniel really needed Amelia’s dowry. He grimaced and wondered when he had become quite so cynical. When he had been a young lad setting off for Cambridge he’d felt as though the whole world was at his feet. He was heir to an earldom, about to commence on a great life adventure and was surrounded by friends. He’d been convinced one day he’d fall in love with a beautiful woman and have a lovely family. Never did he think he’d have to marry for money. How different life had turned out to be.
He hated the fact that he was going to have to marry Amelia under false pretences. Whatever his faults he had always prided himself on never deceiving women. Over the years he had enjoyed many short liaisons, but he had always made it clear from the start these encounters were not going to be lasting relationships. Already he was deceiving Amelia, courting her with the express intention of getting her to marry him. He hated the idea that he was going to have to marry and give up his old lifestyle, but he hated the idea of not being entirely truthful about his motivations to Amelia more. He was turning into one of the fortune hunters he’d always despised.
Refusing to let himself become too melancholy, Daniel tossed back the rest of the glass of whisky and firmly set the decanter down on the table beside him. He needed a plan. In fact, he needed two plans. He needed a plan to make Amelia agree to marry him in record time and he needed a plan to raise a little bit of money to keep Annabelle at bay in the meantime.
He grimaced. He knew exactly where he could raise a little bit of money, but it meant renewing an acquaintance with a man he’d hoped never to see again. He wondered whether the man would agree to see him—they’d not parted well all those years ago. Daniel distinctly remembered telling Ernest Hathaway never to speak to him again.
He doubted Hathaway would agree to meet him, so he’d have to be far more underhand. Maybe if he recruited his old friend Fletcher to his cause he could help. Fletcher wouldn’t have to know all the details, all the sordid ins and outs, but he would be able to persuade Hathaway to be at a particular place at a particular time and to hear what Daniel had to say. If nothing else Fletcher was a persuasive man.
Daniel allowed himself to relax a little. Maybe things would work out all right in the end. He would continue his pursuit of Amelia tomorrow and he would sort out some money to keep Annabelle at bay in the meantime.
His thoughts went back to Amelia and he wondered if he’d ruined his chances with her by acting so strangely. He’d have to come up with some sort of story to satisfy her curiosity. Amelia might be a quiet wallflower, but she wasn’t stupid. Her eyes shone with intelligence when they conversed and she had noticed something was wrong from the very start.
Maybe he could make her forget with a few illicit kisses. He knew she responded to his touch and his kiss, and if he was honest with himself he enjoyed kissing Amelia more than he’d enjoyed anything in years.
At the thought of kissing her Daniel felt the first stirrings of desire and frowned with agitation. He didn’t want to desire his future wife. He’d desired one woman, let his heart rule over his head, and look where that had got him. Amelia was perfect for him because she wasn’t head-spinningly beautiful. She was just nice and average.
He thought of the little freckles across her nose and the curve of her lip when she smiled and repeated to himself that he would not be attracted to her. He refused to desire his future wife. They would have a comfortable companionship and nothing more.
Standing, Daniel repeated to himself that he didn’t desire Amelia. He was far too in control for any nonsense like that.
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