5. Terms and Conditions Apply

David felt a twinge deep in his chest. A sensation he had never before experienced. He had spoken with a woman. He had kissed her. Agreed to make her his wife. And now she was agreeing with him when it came to dealing with her guardian.

Could it be he was already in love with her? Was that even possible? They had only just met!

Richard stared at Marian until she lifted her chin in defiance. “Isn’t it far better I marry a man you already know and respect instead of a stranger? One of your friends?” she asked in a quiet voice.

Although most of the other card players in the parlor had returned their attentions to their games, a few were watching and listening to the interchange between Richard, David, and Marian as if the trio were performing a play at one of the nearby theatres.

About to answer, Richard couldn’t when one of the female onlookers called out, “I say let her marry him, if she really wants him.”

“Me, as well,” a man yelled from the next table over. Murmurs and nods of agreement passed through the other gaming tables as if on a wave.

“I say let him marry her,” a male voice said from the far corner.

Holding up a staying hand, Richard directed his answer to the others in the room. “I haven’t said they couldn’t marry,” he claimed. “There might have to be some conditions is all.”

“Yeah. A dowry,” the first cat-caller said, loud enough for everyone to hear. A chorus of chuckles sounded around the room, although the comment had Richard’s brows furrowing deeper than they had been.

“That is a consideration,” Richard agreed.

“You set me up,” Marcus accused, hitting the earl on the arm with the back of his hand.

“Wot?” Richard turned to stare at the viscount. “I did no such thing.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” Marcus countered, crossing his arms over his chest so they rested on his protruding belly.

Marian’s eyes rounded. “What does he mean by that, Uncle?” she asked.

Before Richard could respond, Marcus said, “We had a wager.”

David grasped Marian’s gloved hand, glad when she didn’t attempt to pull it away. With the attentions of all the onlookers, he wished the floor would swallow him whole. “What sort of wager?” he asked, his manner tentative. He aimed a suspicious glance in Richard’s direction before he redirected his glare onto the viscount.

“It’s merely a harmless bet,” Richard replied, waving a dismissive hand. “It’s recorded in the betting book at White’s. Has been for over a year.”

“What sort of wager?” David repeated, this time slower and louder. Apparently, anxiousness was good at overcoming shyness, for at that moment, he didn’t care who might hear the earl’s answer.

“Uncle?” Marian whispered, her own brows furrowing before she glanced over at David with worry.

Marcus uncrossed his arms and leaned over the table as far as his belly would allow. “I bet him a hundred pounds you wouldn’t be married before you were five-and-thirty,” he admitted. “And Dicky here bet a hundred you would be married by then. ”

“No names, you idiot,” Richard whispered. “We’re in the Soho Club.”

Marcus directed a glare in the earl’s direction. “Nothing is to be said by anyone beyond the club about what goes on here, so what’s the problem?” he countered. “Besides, what the hell am I supposed to call you?”

Ignoring the query, Richard waved both his hands over the table. “Please sit down, you two. I’d rather we discuss this in private.”

David held Marian’s chair for her and then took the chair next to hers. Once he was settled, he felt for her hand under the table and pulled it into his own. He glanced over at her, dismayed to see her eyes were bright with unshed tears. “Since I am three-and-thirty years of age, you stand to collect one-hundred pounds if I marry your niece in the next year or so. I would like to do so within a...” He glanced over at her. “Within a month, if you’re in agreement, my sweet.”

“Oh, I would like that very much,” Marian replied, a smile replacing the look of uncertainty that had appeared upon the revelation there was a wager involved.

Richard said, “Yes, yes, that would do nicely, except?—”

“Not for me,” Marcus protested.

The earl straightened in his chair. “So you’ll owe me one hundred pounds,” he said with a shrug, his eyes rolling before they settled on the viscount. “I’ve already won that much from you whilst playing whist today” he added with a shrug.

“Ninety-two quid is all,” Marcus argued.

David’s eyes rounded. “How many card games have you played?” he asked in alarm. “I was told to bring my pennies.”

“And pennies will do you fine,” Richard assured him.

“Pennies?” Marcus complained. “You told me we’d be playing for serious blunt,” he claimed, directing an expression of annoyance on the earl.

“For when the two of us were playing, yes,” Richard replied. “But not when the four of us are,” he added, as if that should have alleviated any misunderstanding. The earl lifted his chin and said, “Now, where was I?”

“You said, ‘yes, yes, that would do nicely, except’,” Marian stated, imitating her uncle’s delivery. “What’s the exception?”

“Ah, yes. That would be the timing of a ceremony. Your father insisted a wedding be quick.”

“How quick?” she asked, worry evident in her eyes.

“Within a week of accepting a proposal,” Richard replied. “He thought it especially important you benefit from marrying with a special license.”

Marian’s eyes once again rounded. “But why?” she asked in dismay.

“It’s fine, my sweet,” David whispered, fairly sure he had more than enough money on his person to pay the fee. He pulled his chronometer from his waistcoat pocket. “How late is the ecclesiastical court at Doctors’ Commons open? I believe I need to apply for a license at the Archbishop of Canterbury’s office.”

Richard’s brows rose, as if he was impressed. “If you left in the next half-hour or so, you would make it,” he replied.

About to rise, David paused when the earl waved his hand to indicate he should remain seated. He settled back in his chair but motioned for a footman. The servant hurried to his side and bent down. “Sir?”

“I am in need of my coach. Could you inform my driver? He was going to pull into the mews around back,” David explained.

“Right away, sir,” the footman replied before he headed for the door.

Marian’s bright eyes narrowed before she turned her gaze on her uncle. “I wasn’t aware my father wished for a quick wedding,” she commented.

“Sounds rather fishy to me,” Marcus murmured, his scowl still in place.

“He was just looking out for you, darling,” Richard commented. “Now... about the dowry?—”

“You do have one for me,” Marian said, her eyes still watery. “The solicitor assured me there was a dowry when he read my father’s will.”

Richard nodded. “There is a dowry, of course. Your father funded it long before he died,” he assured her. “It’s not much, though,” he added with a grimace.

Up until that moment, David had completely forgotten that only the week before, he had thought of a dowry as a means to get by until the weather improved.

Had he subconsciously agreed to marry Miss Copper knowing he needed her dowry?

He gave his head a shake. Of course not. He hadn’t given a thought to a dowry when he agreed to be Marian’s betrothed. But what had the earl been trying to say before the subject of a dowry had been raised? “Whatever it is will be fine,” he stated. “But what did you mean when you said there might be... conditions?”

Richard’s attention was on Marian when he said, “I must insist Miss Copper live in London. At least until she reaches her majority.”

Although David was about to put voice to a protest, it was Marian who piped up and said, “But why?”

“Your father insisted,” Richard stated, lifting a lanky shoulder. “He didn’t want you relegated to the country estate whilst your husband was free to galavant in the capital during the Season.”

Well aware Marian had turned to stare at him, David kept his glare on Richard when he said, “As you are well aware, sir, I don’t ‘galavant’ during the Season. Nor would I do so after I am wed.”

“Well, I know that, but her father didn’t know who she would be marrying,” Richard reasoned.

“What did he consider her majority?” David asked, fearing the worst. Most young ladies were said to reach their majorities when they were five-and-twenty while others had only to wait until they were one-and-twenty to collect their inheritances.

“As I recall, five-and-twenty.”

David turned to Marian. “I know it’s extremely impolite to ask a young lady her age, but might you share how old you are now, my sweet?”

“Oh, I don’t mind at all,” she said in a quiet voice. “I’ll be three-and-twenty in a month.”

Doing his best not to show his surprise—he had thought Marian might be far younger—David nodded. Two years, he thought as he struggled to keep an impassive expression on his face. They would have to live in the city for two years before he could take her to Engleston Park to live, at least when Parliament wasn’t in session. He could abide it far better if he wasn’t so damned shy. Living in the city meant he would be expected to attend certain entertainments. Spend a few nights a week at this club. Dance at balls.

“So... we’ll simply live here in the capital until you’re old enough,” he stated. “I own a townhouse in Westminster.” He winced when he remembered his mother still lived there. “Although it’s nothing special.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Marian replied, a prim grin replacing her look of worry. “Perhaps you could show it to me sometime during the next day or so. Mayhap give me a tour?”

“Of course. I was going to pay a call there anyway. We could go after my trip to the archbishop’s office,” he offered. “My... my mother still resides in the townhouse,” he said as he winced.

“Oh?” Marian replied. “So she wasn’t relegated to the country estate?” she asked, mimicking her uncle’s words as she glared at Richard.

“She likes living in the city,” David explained. “Her friends are here, and there’s a coach and horses for her use.”

Marian dipped her head. “I suppose she likes running her own household,” she commented quietly.

David’s eyes widened. “I’m quite sure she’d be happy to share the responsibility,” he hedged. He hadn’t even given a thought to how his mother would respond when told he was planning to marry. “That is, if you’re of a mind to want to take on a household. And Engleston Park when we’re in residence there.” He glanced at Richard and Marcus, uncomfortable by how the earl seemed to hang on his every word while the viscount merely glared at him.

“Oh, very much,” Marian assured him, her smile once again brightening her face.

Relieved, David turned his attention back to Richard. “Anything else before I acquire a marriage license?” he asked.

Richard regarded the three cards that were still face down in front of him. “Her father doesn’t want her marrying a gambler.”

Chuckling with relief, David let out the breath he’d been holding. “You know I am not,” he stated. “And if that includes playing cards for pennies, then I shan’t participate in the games you planned for today.”

“That’s not fair,” Marcus stated. “How am I supposed to win back my blunt if we’re not going to play for money?” he groused.

Ignoring the viscount, Richard reached an arm over the table, his hand held out. “Best wishes to you both,” he stated as David shook his hand.

Glancing over at Marian, David gave her a brilliant smile. “Gentlemen,” he said as he turned his attention back to the earl and viscount. “If you’ll excuse us, we’ll be off to buy a license.”

Marcus grumbled while Richard stood from his chair. “Don’t be gone too long,” he said. “The dinners here are especially good.”

David exchanged a quick glance with Marian. “We should be back in time to change for dinner,” he replied, offering her his arm.

The two took their leave of the card room. “I need to go up to my room for my redingote and a bonnet,” Marian murmured.

“May I come with you?” David asked, glancing back toward the card parlor to see if they were being followed.

Marian’s eyes rounded before a grin touched her lips. “Of course,” she whispered.