Love With the Proper Husband Read Free Page B

particular, taking care not to meet his gaze. “My character is not overly suited to the position of governess. A deficit that was only enhanced by the tendency of Americans to produce remarkably ill-mannered and spoiled offspring.”
    At once it struck her that she would never have to be in that position again. She snapped her gaze back to Whiting’s, an odd note of awe in her voice. “I won’t ever have to do that again, will I?”
    “As I said before, Miss Townsend, the income is extremely modest, sufficient for your needs as an unmarried woman but nothing more. You will not be able to live in the style of Townsend Park, but no”
    —he smiled—“you will not have to seek employment of any kind.”
    For a long moment Gwen savored the sound of his words. Of all the things she had expected when she’d received his letter, this was not even imagined. Her anger had faded, wiped away by the dawning realization of her change in circumstances as well as her acceptance that the last five years were as much the result of her own impulsiveness as of Albert’s error.
    “Well, then, Mr. Whiting”—she flashed him a genuine smile and stood—“where is my money?”
    He rose to his feet and looked at her with a fair amount of amusement. “I am not finished, Miss Townsend. There’s more.”
    “More?” She plopped back in her chair and stared with astonishment. “More money?”
    Whiting laughed, and she had the good grace to blush.
    “Forgive me for sounding so…so mercenary, but”—she leaned forward—“in the span of a few short minutes I have gone from having nothing to having something, modest though it may be. And the thought of having more, well, it’s somewhat intoxicating.”
    “No doubt.” Whiting tried and failed to hide his amusement and once again resumed his seat.
    “However, while this has the potential to provide you with increased”—he cleared his throat—“ finances , I’m not sure…” He paused and studied her carefully. “Right now you have an income that will continue until you marry. When you wed, contingent upon my approval of the match, there are funds that have been reserved for a respectable dowry as well as the settlement of a substantial sum upon you personally. You will never have to worry about money again.”
    “Never again worry about money?” She shook her head. “It is an interesting idea if a bit difficult to grasp at the moment. However”—she chose her words carefully—“in order to achieve that freedom from financial want, I should have to sacrifice my own personal freedom.”
    “My dear woman, we are speaking of marriage, not prison.”
    “Is there a great deal of difference, Mr. Whiting?”
    “Most certainly,” he said with the indignation reserved for those who dare to question the principles of crown and country and other respectable institutions.
    “Oh?” She considered him carefully. “Are you married?”
    “That is neither here nor there.”
    She raised a brow.
    He sighed. “No.”
    “Have you ever been married?”
    “No. Nonetheless.” His tone was staunch. “It is a desirable state, much to be preferred by women.”
    “Not this particular woman.” She shook her head firmly.
    “Miss Townsend—”
    “It’s quite simple, Mr. Whiting. What I have seen of marriage through my life does not endear the institution to me.” She met his gaze directly. “For the upper classes, marriage is for no other reason than to cling to titles and property. My mother died when I was very young while trying to give my father a male heir—the only true purpose of their union. My sister’s marriage estranged her from her family and friends. I have no idea where she is, nor has she ever made any effort to contact me.”
    An uneasy look crossed Whiting’s face. “Miss Townsend—”
    She held out her hand to quiet him. “Mr. Whiting, do allow me to finish. Even if what I have seen in my own family did not dissuade me from the bonds of holy wedlock,