Prue Phillipson - Hordens of Horden Hall (44 page)
Read Prue Phillipson - Hordens of Horden Hall Online
Authors: Hearts Restored
Robert had been gratified to see that St Malin Castle was well run. Although his uncle had discussed business with him and attempted to prepare him for the responsibilities which lay ahead, Robert felt the absence of him sorely and the weight rested uncomfortably on his shoulders. He felt as if his life had been thrown into total chaos. Despite obtaining a first in mathematics at Oxford, he felt totally unprepared for what lay ahead of him. And now a marriage to a stranger to contend with.
He threw down the pen and took a liberal pinch of snuff, admiring the large ruby on the quaint silver box, engraved with a stout pig, which had belonged to his uncle. It was so like his uncle to have such a thing made. The pig was a delightful jest at what he perceived as the shallow habits of the ton, although he enjoyed his own special mixture of tobacco. Robert flicked snuff from his coat, preferring to mull over his bride-to-be, than what lay on the desk before him.
There was nothing for it, but to accept what lay ahead with as much grace as he could muster. Charity’s appearance and bearing would improve considerably with a more fashionable and costlier wardrobe.
He had not been blind to her charms beneath the shabby, old-fashioned clothes, although no matter how she dressed, she would never equal Millicent’s tall, graceful beauty. He had studied Charity over the dinner table. Her unpowdered honey-coloured locks, tied up with a green ribbon, had curled around shell-like ears. When startled, those large hazel eyes appeared greener. She was every inch an innocent country girl, completely unaware that the way she bit her full provocative bottom lip stirred his loins.
It had annoyed him at the time, until he realized it would serve to make the act of producing an heir far more pleasant. Yes, he was more than willing to bed her, but he would have to go gently. She might become too dependent on him too quickly. Even though she’d refused him, as was the fashion, he felt confident that she would agree to the marriage, and would be easily managed.
Her family was unimpeachable, although poor as church mice. He smiled. His eccentric uncle didn’t care for the rest of his own kind; he’d thought most aristocrats too lazy and dependent on others to care for them, and at times too inbred. Indeed it was unusual but his uncle had admired all forms of endeavor, from poets to inventors. He had talked at length of James Watt’s invention of a steam-engine to work a mine-pump and had often said he wished he’d lived a more productive life.
Could it be this reason he’d chosen Charity? Did he feel a more satisfactory life could be had with someone like her? His uncle might have asked him. Robert would have been happy to set him straight. A man could go about his business without needing a wife at his side, surely, although an heir and a spare was necessary, of course.
He added more brandy to his glass. A wedding as soon as possible would be wise, and hopefully an heir would quickly follow. Perhaps she was the perfect choice. This unsophisticated young woman would never have the wherewithal to get under his skin or have the power to hurt him as Millicent had done.
Once married and his heir secured, the estates and businesses in perfect order, he could return to the caresses of his accomplished mistress and the life he enjoyed in London.
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