The Earl of Davenport: Wicked Regency Romance (Wicked Earls' Club #7)(9)
His grin was slow and satisfied. His aunt muttered a little prayer under her breath as she caught sight of it. “What are you up to now, boy? Whatever it is, it cannot be good.”
He stood from the table quickly and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Nonsense, Aunt. I’ve just decided who I shall marry and there’s no time to waste.”
He didn’t pause to answer the questions she called out after him as he strode out of the room.
Chapter Three
Anne paced before her sister in the townhouse’s drawing room after attempting to explain the logic that had prompted her to meet with Davenport… alone. She’d managed to avoid her sister the day before, but there was no putting it off any longer. Claire deserved to know what she’d done.
“You did what?” Claire’s voice had risen to a frightening pitch.
“You said you wanted to marry him,” Anne reminded her.
Claire’s eyes were so wide it looked as though it might hurt. Anne winced in empathy.
Claire shook her head. “I said I would marry him. As a last resort.”
Anne didn’t respond. She didn’t have to, the obvious truth of the matter was clear to them both. Claire groaned as she stated it for her. “And I suppose we are down to the last resort.”
Anne shifted, clasping and unclasping her hands as she looked around the room as if the perfect response could be found hiding in the curtains. Friends of the family had allowed them to use their home for the season as their own London property had been sold years ago, along with most of their valuables.
Their situation had gone from bad to desperate, and she and Claire both knew it. To deny it would be an insult to her sister’s intelligence. All seven siblings were well aware of the dire predicament they were in. Jed had been hiding himself away in the London townhouse’s study for weeks, avoiding them all as if by ignoring the situation it might go away. But it hadn’t, and it wouldn’t. Not unless something happened. Either a miracle or a marriage. Anne considered herself an optimist but even she could admit that a marriage was a far safer bet. “It could be worse,” Anne offered.
“How?” Claire moaned and dropped her head into her hands. “How could it be worse, Anne? We’re on the brink of bankruptcy. We’ll lose the house soon if we can’t find a way out of this mess.”
Anne held back a weary sigh. Her sister was stating the obvious. These were all the reasons she’d done what she’d done.
Claire lifted her head, her eyes wide and tear-filled. “What will we do? Where will we go?”
Anne didn’t have the heart to tell her that she did not know. Despite the fact that Claire was several years older, Anne was the one who protected her sister. Even now, she hoped to find her a good match. They all knew that Claire was their only hope. She was the only one with a dowry of any significance, thanks to money set aside before their father’s passing, and the only unmarried woman in the house whose name was not synonymous with scandal.
She was their golden goose, as Jed called her. Despite the fact that Claire had always been considered the lucky one, Anne quite pitied her. The responsibility now fell on her slim, fragile shoulders. Of all the siblings, Claire had been the most coddled. The most precious, by far. She’d been the apple of their mother’s eye—presumably because she was the only one of the girls who was actually hers.
Oh, the gossips had never been able to confirm that truth, but there were no secrets among the Clevelands. Their mother had raised them all, and while not quite equal in her affections, she’d given them a warm and loving home. Which was more than most would have done in her position, Anne imagined.
But then, their mother never made any claim to love their father. There was no mistaking their arrangement as anything other than a business merger orchestrated by their parents.
Rather like what Anne and her siblings were hoping to do for Claire. The thought made her want to weep. She threw her arms around her sister. “Oh, Claire, I hate that we’ve done this to you.”
Claire sniffled and patted her back. “Don’t be silly, Anne.”
That’s what she always said at moments like this. Claire might be emotional when it came to the prospect of losing their home, but she had none of the romantic notions that Anne harbored. Perhaps it was because she’d been raised knowing her role as the family’s most weddable asset, or maybe she was just unromantic by nature. Either way, she seemed unmoved by the fact that her sole option was to marry for status and fortune. Preferably fortune, if it came down to one or the other.
Anne on the other hand… well, a marriage without love sounded worse than death. But then, no one expected her to save the family with a good marriage so she supposed she had the luxury of romantic dreams, if not the expectation of an actual wedding.
It was a well-known fact that she was unwanted in society thanks to her questionable parentage. And without a dowry, she was not even a temptation to fortune hunters.
The only way she would become a wife was if she married for love.
She stared off into the distance for a moment, imagining a future in which she might find a man—perhaps a merchant or a vicar—one who was not daunted by the rumors surrounding her family and who had a solid income without the need for a dowry. A man who had such a passionate love for her that he could overlook her obvious flaws.