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all those cold-eyed strangers, hated being considered fair prey by the rakes and roués. She might have to sing for her supper, but that did not mean she was a strumpet. His lordship seemed to appreciate that fact, treating her like a lady instead of a ladybird. “What else?”
    He brushed a dog hair off his superfine sleeve. “I would not demand my husbandly rights, for, oh, six months or so. That way if we decide we cannot suit, I am sure a large enough donation to the church will convince the bishop that Skippy filled out the papers incorrectly, and the marriage can be annulled.”
    Margot’s brow knit in concentration. No consummation of the marriage for six months? But all noblemen were expected to provide heirs. That was the only reason most of them bothered to get married at all. Then her forehead cleared as she reached comprehension. “Ah, in six months you would be sure I am not carrying another man’s child to inherit your title.”
    He nodded. “You see, we do understand each other. You have everything to gain by such an arrangement, my dear.” He held up his fingers to count off the advantages, in case she had not tallied them for herself. “Wealth, with widow’s benefits and a generous allowance written into the marriage settlements. A title that will grant you respectability and open doors now shut to you, if you wish to enter. You could be a duchess someday, a day long in the future, God willing. Numerous houses and properties, so you can have an independent existence if you’d rather. Children, I hope. And a grateful husband, of course.”
    A home, children, respectability, and security, Margot mused. What more could a woman ask? Unfortunately they came with the last, the husband. Margot held up her own five-fingered reasoning. “Husbands have been known to keep mistresses, gamble away their fortunes, demand total obedience, and drink in excess.” She stared right into his brown, bloodshot eyes as her smallest finger joined the others. “And beat their wives.”
    Galen took a deep breath. “Yesterday was an exception Perhaps I could be forgiven for overindulging since it was, after all, my wedding day. As for your other concerns, you are right to be cautious. First, I have never wagered more than I can afford, and a great deal of my fortune is entailed besides, not mine to gamble away. Second, I want a wife, a companion, not a servant to do my bidding and agree with my every opinion. Third, I, too, take the marriage vows seriously, but if we find we cannot rub along together, I would never embarrass my lady wife with my other interests.”
    “Ah, discretion again?”
    “Quite. As to your last worry, I would demand satisfaction from any man who dared suggest that I might hurt one who is weaker than I, one whom, moreover, I have sworn to protect.”
    Galahad indeed, Margot thought, somehow believing in this man’s integrity. He might be attics-to-let, making her this insane proposal, but at least they were honorable attics. “I apologize if I have given offense.”
    “No, I am glad to have things open between us. You have to know what you are getting into, of course.”
    Margot did not need Lord Woodbridge to tell her what she would be getting out of: this house, this neighborhood, a hand-to-mouth existence fraught with indignities and insults, a future as bleak as Mrs. McGuirk’s black dresses. “Very well, the advantages to me are considerable. But, my lord, I need to ask where is the benefit to you? You could have any lady of the ton you wish, attractive young women with fortunes and titles and sterling reputations, trained from birth to take their place in your social circles. Marrying an actress can bring you only scandal.”
    “Yes,” he said with a boyish grin, “a wondrous, magnificent scandal. The biggest this year. Even more scandalous than Lady Carew and her husband’s valet. That’s the point, my dear.”
    “You’d marry me to thumb your nose at the gossips, to spite your