The Bachelor Earl - Darcy Burke Page 0,31
on her nerves, but she pushed that away. She already knew he wasn’t right for her.
“The house party was most pleasant. Since you have come this far, I am led to believe you wish to continue our relationship.”
He brightened. “I do indeed. I—my goodness, this is more difficult than I anticipated. I’ve only done this once before, and I was quite young and silly. I must admit, I feel rather silly in this moment.” He laughed nervously. “Or apprehensive.” He slid from the chair and got onto one knee before her. “Your Grace, I would be honored if you would be my wife. I promise to care for you the rest of my days, and I know my children will admire and care for you as much as I do.”
His children. Genie couldn’t ignore the pang of longing that came with the thought of mothering more children. She couldn’t do that with Edmund. And he needed children. Or at least one child—an heir.
She couldn’t contemplate a future with Edmund. It didn’t matter that she loved him. He needed an heir, and she couldn’t give him one. That was the beginning and the end of it.
But here was a man who cared for her, with four children in need of a mother. It would be a nice life. She’d married for love once, and that was more than many people experienced.
She smiled at him. “I am so humbled by your proposal, Mr. Sterling. Would it be all right if I thought about it tonight and gave you an answer on the morrow? In the meantime, we will dine with my stepson and spend the evening together. If that’s acceptable to you.”
His shoulders dipped as he relaxed, a smile of relief breaking over his features. “More than acceptable. You are a woman of exceeding good humor and charm.”
How could she find fault with that?
Chapter 10
“You’re up early,” Cosford said as Edmund entered the dining room at Rotherham’s hunting lodge near Lancaster. “Especially given last night’s activities.” He chuckled before sipping his coffee.
Edmund filled his plate from the sideboard and joined Cosford at the table. “I didn’t imbibe as much as you—or Rotherham.”
A footman came forward and offered coffee or ale. Edmund took both.
“I don’t think anyone imbibed as much as Rotherham,” Cosford said, wincing. “He’s been in a bit of a state, hasn’t he?”
“Has he?” Edmund hadn’t noticed. Probably because he’d been in his own “state.” A state of pining for a woman he couldn’t have. And when he wasn’t pining, he vacillated between anger at the way Genie had left Blickton without saying goodbye and mourning for what he’d had—briefly—and lost.
“I suppose you haven’t been paying attention.” Cosford cut a piece of ham. “Too wrapped up in your own melancholy.”
“I am not melancholy.” Edmund thought he’d done a fair job of hiding his distraction.
Cosford swallowed his bite of ham. “You forget that the party was at my house. And that my wife misses nothing. Well, almost nothing. Also that she is Genie’s—sorry, the dowager duchess’s—cousin.”
Hell. Had Genie told Lady Cosford something? “What are you getting at, Cosford?”
Lifting a shoulder, Cosford picked up his coffee. “I know you were visited by another woman besides Lady Bradford. I wasn’t entirely sure who it was, but then one of the stableboys saw you and Genie after our ride.” He didn’t need to say what the boy had seen, and they both knew it.
Edmund scooped some eggs from his plate into his mouth and avoided looking at Cosford.
“When Genie left early,” Cosford continued, “we assumed something had broken down between you. Cecilia was quite upset.”
What had Genie told them? “I didn’t know she was leaving,” Edmund said, reaching for the ale and taking a long pull.
Cosford’s brows climbed his forehead. “You didn’t?” He angled his head. “She surprised us after breakfast that morning when she said she was going to depart. Cecilia had hoped her cousin would find a match. My wife believes her cousin isn’t happy unless she has someone to care for, and her stepson is old enough to manage without her, of course.”
Edmund didn’t know what he could say to that. He’d love for Genie to care for him—and he for her.
“She’s had too much sadness,” Cosford said, shaking his head. “But I suspect you know that.”
He did. She’d lost her daughter, her husband, and the hope for more children of her own. Edmund had heard the anguish in her voice when she’d told him of Eliza.
Edmund tried to eat, but his