now, because to do so before her brother would only harm his cause.
“You want to marry this man?” Ravenscroft demanded, his attention directed toward Jo, absolving Decker’s need to speak.
“I want to marry the man of my choice,” she told her brother without hesitation. “If you insist I am to be married, I will choose marriage to Mr. Decker every time.
Decker suppressed his wince. Once again, hardly a commendation, that.
“Of course I insist you are to be married,” the earl bellowed, nearly rising to his feet in his vexation. “Have you forgotten the depths of the trouble in which you have embroiled yourself? I will not allow you to be shamed, Josephine. You are my sister, and it is my duty to protect you however I can. However I must.”
Ah, they had come full circle. Back to the nonsense about Jo carrying his bastard seed in her womb. Again, Decker would not disabuse Ravenscroft of his assumptions based upon his own suggestions. The possibility of Jo carrying his child was likely the sole commendation for his suit at the moment, and he had no desire to challenge it with honesty. Let the earl think what he would.
“Protect her by seeing her married to the man most suited to the role,” Decker said smoothly. “You have my word I will treat her well. Make any changes to the contract you see fit. I am more than willing to offer concessions. However, I am firm in the timing. I want Lady Jo as my wife sooner rather than later.”
And in his bed.
Wisely, he refrained from adding that bit. He was a businessman, after all. Decker was more than accustomed to making deals and compromises in the name of his desired outcome. And in this instance, his desired outcome was Lady Josephine Danvers as his wife.
Yes, wife.
The one word he had sworn he would never utter—the one institution he had vowed would never claim him—was upon him. And to his shame, he did not dread the outcome. Marriage to Jo would have its benefits, her in his bed amongst them. The rest, he would fret over later. In short, there was no need for his life to change. Nothing would alter.
He would be free to pursue whatever and whomever he wished.
Granted, the thought of pursuing anyone other than Jo was rather murky at the moment. Downright untenable. Unthinkable. Unpalatable to be sure. But still, he had never been so drawn to one woman in his life that he had been able to cease his desires for more. At least, not since Nora.
“I will make my decision after I have the opportunity to peruse the betrothal contract,” Ravenscroft said then, his tone undeniably grudging. “I shall send word. For now, Mr. Decker, I do think it best for you to take your leave.”
Decker agreed.
His point had been made.
And he had just secured Jo’s hand in marriage. He was certain of it.
The betrothal contract arrived as Decker promised.
Whilst Julian pored over it, Jo sought out her sister-in-law, Clara, who was much easier to discuss certain matters with than her brother was. Especially since he was still very much wearing the mantle of Furious Protective Brother.
Clara was propped comfortably on a chaise longue in her private apartments, ethereally beautiful with her blonde hair styled au courant with a light fringe on her forehead. She was wearing a dressing gown of ivory satin, which did nothing to diminish the size of her belly.
“How are you feeling?” Jo asked, mired in guilt over having caused so much disruption in the household when Clara was about to give birth any day now.
“As if I have been in my delicate condition for the last five years at least,” her sister-in-law drawled, a tinge of her American roots softening her words. “Also desperately hungry for kippers and Bayonne ham and chocolate biscuits.”
Jo grimaced at the thought of those three disparate foods being consumed. “Separately or all at once?” she ventured, not certain she wanted to hear the response.
“Would it be detestable of me if I said all at once?” Clara asked, grinning. “Do sit, Jo. You know I would stand, but my feet have been replaced by bricks, and I am about as big as a bloody house.”
Jo seated herself, smiling back at her brother’s wife. “A bloody house, is it? I do think my brother’s vulgar English vocabulary has infected you as well.”
Clara sighed. “I decided if I could not best him, I would join him. What has you looking