in the eye of the marriage storm because she didnât want the wife to wrest the reins of control over the household from her? He tried to picture Melissande wanting to oversee Northcliffe, demanding that his mother hand over the chatelaine keys, but such an image wouldnât form in his mind. He shrugged; it didnât matter.
And what was wrong with a simple nickname like Sinjun?
CHAPTER
3
Claybourn Hall, Wetberby
Near Harrogate, England
âT HIS IS DIFFICULT to believe, Papa,â Alexandra said finally, her voice strained and paper-thin. She couldnât seem to take her eyes off that single sheet of paper her father calmly replaced on his desktop. âAre you certain it is the Earl of Northcliffe who wants to marry Melissande? Douglas Sherbrooke?â
âYes, no doubt about it,â said Lord Edouard, Duke of Beresford. âPoor fool.â He smoothed his long fingers over the letter surface, then read it aloud again to his youngest daughter. When he finished and looked over at her, he thought for a moment that she was somehow distressed. She seemed pale, but it was probably only the bright sunlight coming through the wide library windows. He said, âYour sister will probably be ecstatic, particularly after Oglethorpe didnât come up to scratch four months ago. This should be a great balm to her wounded pride. As for me, why, I should like to throw my arms about Northcliffe and cry on his shoulder. Good Gad, the money he offers will save me, not to mention the handsome settlement heâll provide.â
Alexandra looked down at the roughened nail on her thumb. âMelissande told me she refused Douglas Sherbrooke three years ago. He begged and begged to have her, she said, but she felt his future was too uncertain, that even though he was the earlâs heir, it wasnât enough since his father was, after all, still alive, and that since he insisted on remaining in the army and fighting, he could be killed and then she wouldnât have anything, for his brother would become earl after his fatherâs death. She said being a poor wife was very different from being a beautiful but poor daughter.â
The duke grunted, a dark eyebrow raised. âThatâs what she told you, Alex?â
Alexandra nodded, then turned away from her father. She walked to the wide bow windows, their draperies held back in every season, regardless of the weather, because the duke refused ever to close them over the magnificent vista outside. His wife complained endlessly about it, claiming the harsh sun faded out the Aubusson carpet and the good Lord knew there was no money to replace it, for that was what he was always telling her, wasnât it, but the duke paid her no heed. Alex said slowly, âNow Douglas Sherbrooke is the Earl of Northcliffe and he wishes to come here to wed her.â
âYes, I give him permission and we will come to agreement over the settlement in short order. Thank God heâs a wealthy man. The Sherbrookes have always used their money wisely, never depleting the estates through excesses, not forming alliances that wouldnât add to their coffers and their consequence. Of course his marrying Melissande wonât bring him a single groat, indeed, he will have to pay me well for her, very well indeed. He must really care forher since the chances would have been excellent that she would have already been wed to another man. I must say too, in your sisterâs defense, that her consequence displays itself in equal measure to her pride.â
âI suppose so. I remember that he was a very nice man. Kind and, well, nice.â
âHotheaded young fool, thatâs what he was,â the duke said. âHe was the Northcliffe heir and he refused to sell out. Not that it matters now. He survived and now heâs the earl and that makes things quite different. All the Sherbrookes have been Tories, back to the Flood I dare say, and this earl is very
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley