Lord Portman's Troublesome Wife by Mary Nichols Page B

I am sure you are.’
    ‘Of course,’ Harry said, deciding to go along with her. ‘I met him several times, played cards and drank with him, only natural he should speak of his daughter and make us known to each other. Long-standing acquaintanceship, goes back to my own father. Why, he even recommended the union of our two families.’ Catching sight of Rosamund’s expression, he frowned at her to stop her laughing aloud.
    ‘Then we can arrange the wedding for a month from now, if that is convenient to you, my lord.’
    ‘Perfectly convenient. I will leave the arrangements to you, ma’am.’
    ‘My niece may stay with me until then and be married from here. I will see to everything concerning the wedding. Max, as head of the family, must arrange financial matters.’
    ‘Yes, shall we do that now?’ Max suggested. ‘We could go into the book room and leave the ladies to their discussions on ribbons and gowns and suchlike.’
    Harry bowed and followed Max from the room, leaving a triumphant Mrs Bullivant to face her niece. ‘There!’ she said. ‘You may count yourself very fortunate indeed.’
    ‘I do, Aunt, but about the wedding…’
    ‘What about it?’
    ‘I am not in the first flush of youth and I do not want to be puffed up as though I were. I wish for a quiet wedding. After all, I am still in mourning. Besides, I have nothing to wear.’
    ‘That will all be taken care of. We shall go shopping for a gown and wedding clothes. We must make lists…’ She went on to enumerate the many lists, guests, food, wine, flowers, but Rosamund had ceased to listen. She was too busy wondering just what she had done. What would the haut monde make of it? An unknown, unimportant, impoverished spinster catching a baron of immense wealth and consequence—how had she managed it? She could imagine the tongues wagging and wished it were all over and she was safely in the country, away from the gossips, trying to adjust to her new life.
    ‘You do understand, there can be no question of a dowry,’ Max was saying to Harry. ‘I explained our situation at the start, did I not?’
    ‘Oh, explicitly,’ Harry said. ‘It is of no moment.’
    ‘But I do not want Rosie to know that. It would hurt her feelings. Could you perhaps pretend you have received a small dowry?’
    ‘With all the pleasure in the world, my dear fellow. I will do nothing to hurt her feelings.’
    ‘And the wedding. My aunt is determined on some sort of show, and given your standing in society, it is to be expected, but I find myself unable to—’ He stopped. ‘You see how it is?’
    ‘Perfectly. Will five hundred pounds suffice?’
    ‘You are very generous, my lord,’ Max said, deciding two hundred would amply cover a quiet wedding, as long as Rosie did not find out the true amount. ‘But—’
    ‘But I should not tell Miss Chalmers about that either,’ Harry finished for him. ‘I understand. It would look as though I were buying her.’
    ‘I would not go so far as to say that,’ Max said, breathing a sigh of relief.
    ‘No, I hope you would not. I will have a draft made out to you and sent round to your address.’
    Max bowed. ‘Thank you.’
    There being nothing else to say, they returned to the ladies, to hear what they had arranged and soon after that Harry bowed his way out. Rosamund went to the door with him. ‘My lord,’ she began, ‘if my aunt’s arrangements displease you, you must say so.’
    ‘It is not I who has to be pleased, my dear,’ he said gently, ‘but you. Do as you wish. I shall fall in with your plans. And after the ceremony, we will repair to Bishop’s Court. I am sure you will like it there.’
    He bowed to her, put his hat on and went back to his carriage, musing as he went. It had been the strangest week of his life and he hoped sincerely he was not going to regret what he had done.
    As soon as he arrived home, he sent for his lawyer and arranged the money order for Sir Max and then sent a note to the London