Page 25 of To Have & To Hold

“I do prefer to be prepared.” Lord Moorfield set his attention back to the documents in his hand. “I was not prepared for Your Grace to arrive with a formal settlement already drawn.”

“I stopped at my solicitor’s chambers on the way here,” Nathaniel explained. “That is why I was late.”

Nathaniel had spent over an hour with Mr. Fawley as the solicitor reviewed the marriage settlement and filled him in on all he knew about Lord Moorfield and his ward.

Emilia’s mother, the earl’s sister, had died shortly after Emilia was born. Her father, Lord Talbot of Wrenscroft Hall, succumbed to the same illness a few months later. With no other living relations of age to claim her, and an estate so heavily indebted that it could offer little security for her future, she was raised by her uncle since infancy.

What Nathaniel could not understand was though Lord Moorfield had taken on all responsibility for her, he seemed unwilling to acknowledge her as his niece.

“You only want half of Emilia’s dowry? It is not a very large sum.” Lord Moorfield’s question interrupted Nathaniel’s thoughts.

“Truthfully, I do not want any of it,” Nathaniel replied. “But I did not wish to insult you.”

Irritation flashed in the earl’s eyes again, and Nathaniel had to suppress a smile. He should not have found enjoyment in goading the man, and typically he would not have, butsomething about the way he spoke of his niece made Nathaniel abandon all inclination toward civility.

“You also state here that it is to be set aside in a trust for her separate use?” Moorfield continued. “You decline to receive it at all?”

“I do,” Nathaniel replied.

“May I ask why?”

“I have no need for her money. Her portion will remain hers.”

Lord Moorfield scoffed. “There is no reason for a married woman to have an independent fortune. It seems an odd request.”

Nathaniel’s eyes narrowed. “It is not a request.”

He tapped a finger rhythmically on his arm. Nathaniel was endeavoring to handle this situation with as much honor as possible, but the man was trying every reserve of patience he possessed. Had he anticipated Lord Moorfield would prove to be so insufferable, he might have swept Emilia away the night before and married her at Gretna Green.

Nathaniel’s body went warm and his face flushed at the unexpected thought. Charlotte’s inclination toward extreme romanticism must have finally gone to his head.

“I see nothing wrong with the terms you have laid out, Your Grace.”

Nathaniel snapped to attention with a slight start.

Lord Moorfield continued, “My man can have a formal agreement drawn by the end of the day.”

Nathaniel cleared his throat. “If there is nothing wrong with this one, we might sign it now.”

Lord Moorfield raised a brow at Nathaniel, likely noticing the crack in his composure. “I would like to have it looked over officially before we make it legally binding, Your Grace. I am sure you understand.” He leaned in across his desk. “I must ask once more; are you sure you wish to marry Emilia? You do not know her well. She can be difficult.”

More heat rose in Nathanie’s chest, but this time in the form of anger. “So can I.”

His unwavering gaze locked with Lord Moorfields. “If you would like your solicitor to look over the settlement, I am more than happy to wait.”

“Do you not have more pressing matters to attend to, Your Grace?”

Nathaniel placed a perfectly polished boot on one knee as he settled deeper into his chair.

“No,” he replied. “I do not.”

Chapter Nine

If Emilia had ever allowed herself to dream of her wedding day, it would not have come close to the fairytale unfolding before her now. The duke’s townhome was immaculate. Even without the formal, thought-out decorations, it was more beautiful than any cathedral Emilia could have imagined.

The hall where the ceremony was held was lined with a plush, deep burgundy carpet. Marble columns stood beneath the painted ceilings, while gold accents and gilded mirrors filled the room with a brilliance reflected from the candlelight.

Due to the still frigid temperatures that plagued London during the first week of February, there were no flowers yet in bloom, but Lady Charlotte had gathered silk roses from all over the house and filled the room with them.