amiable. In truth, he hardly remembered much about her at all. She’d kept her head bowed throughout their short wedding ceremony, and he’d avoided looking at her anyway. And the other part had taken place in the shadows, both of them with eyes shut and thinking of something else.
“How charming of you to say so,” she said. “I recall you expressed some disappointment on our wedding day, that you had heard the Lightwell sisters were beauties when I am not.”
“I can’t see anyone going to war over you, but you’re not completely embarrassing. How old are you anyway? Nineteen? Twenty?”
“Twenty-two.”
“That old.”
He tried to remember twenty-two. It was only six years ago but it felt like a lifetime. Samuel had been two then, and Rachel brought him into the offices, saying it was never too soon for him to learn. That was the year they risked everything by purchasing and outfitting new factories, and ended up tripling their fortune. That was the year they watched Samuel discovering the world, and they vowed never to employ children in a way that might snuff out that spark. And Rachel must have been twenty-two when he first came to work in her father’s office. But she had been the boss’s daughter, and he was only fourteen then and too scared and angry to notice her, let alone imagine that, five years after he arrived, she’d marry him, and another five years after that, she’d be dead.
“Mr. DeWitt?” His wife wore a concerned expression. “Are you all right? I hope I did not upset you.”
“Of course you upset me. You’ve upset everything. Go home.”
“I’m afraid that I can’t do that. You see, I have…”
“What? What?”
“Sisters.”
“Sisters.”
Ah. Yes. Lord Charles had mentioned daughters. Joshua couldn’t remember how many, only that it was a lot, and that they all risked being destitute if Joshua didn’t marry one of them, since Charlie was dead and daughters had to be married to inherit, and the one that was already married was a stepdaughter, and the one that was nearly married had been jilted, and all the others were too young.
Even now, his house might be overrun by giggling creatures in white gowns and colorful ribbons. He shuddered.
“Tell me there aren’t more of you,” he said. “Does my house have an infestation of sisters?”
“Only me, for now.”
“For now!”
“I mean to strengthen relations with my grandmother and—”
“Not the duchess!”
“You see, my sister—”
“No.”
“Because my mother—”
“No.”
“My other sister—”
“No.”
“Then my father.”
She lifted her chin, with a hard look, proving that amiable did not mean soft.
“I had a debt to your father,” he said after a moment. “I discharged that debt by marrying you, ensuring your inheritance, and providing for your family’s material needs.”
“And we are all very grateful. But—”
“The agreement was that I get married to you. It was not to be married to you.”
“Unfortunately, one does tend to follow the other.”
“We can be married at a distance,” he said. “Our marriage has been highly satisfactory so far.”
“Mr. DeWitt. That will not do.” Now she was all stern and matronly. “My sister must make her debut, and I must persuade my grandmother to accommodate her. You need not be involved. I am more than happy that we lead separate lives. I only ask that you do not obstruct me or engage in behavior that will adversely affect her social position. Once this is done, I shall return to Sunne Park and you can go back to doing what you do best. Which, as I understand it, involves making money, offending people, and cuckolding lords.”
Joshua’s mind did a rare thing: It went blank. Only for the blink of an eye, but nevertheless. Then the thoughts came rushing back in.
Honesty: What a surprise. Politeness and honesty tended to be mutually exclusive, and Cassandra appeared to be the epitome of politeness. He loathed politeness, the way people went around ignoring the truth when it made them uncomfortable. Pretending that if they couched something unpleasant in delicate language, then it was no longer unpleasant.
Yet here she was, mentioning things that the polite did not mention.
It almost made her interesting.
He leaned back and stretched out his legs so that his boots flirted with her skirts. The blush on her cheeks had deepened but she met his eyes with calm defiance.
“Are you saying I have your permission, Mrs. DeWitt?” he said. “To conduct affairs, that is.”
“What you have, sir, is my complete indifference. I ask only that you be discreet, as your behavior reflects on my sisters and me. We have