friendship grew, it occurred to me that there might be an alternative. A very special kind of marriage. I offered it to him and he refused.”
“What are you saying, Fleur?”
How did one say it outright? She never had to with Laclere. Somehow, he had just known what she meant.
“Fleur, did you offer my brother a white marriage? One without physical intimacy?”
She felt her face burning. “I was not surprised that he refused. I think that my fortune made it tempting, but as viscount he would want a son.”
“Why are you telling me this? Are you thinking of marrying?”
“Last night, after meeting with Gregory, I began to contemplate it. A husband would have authority that Gregory could not violate. I am thinking about a marriage such as I offered your brother. Such an understanding would end all of this. I am right, aren’t I? Don’t you think so?”
Stillness again. Total silence for a long pause.
“What I think is that you had better be very, very careful about the man whom you choose, Fleur.”
A resonance in his tone made her face him. He regarded her with a thoughtful, speculative gaze.
“Yes, very careful,” she said. “It would have to be someone I trusted. Someone who accepts that I cannot be a true wife to any man. The understanding on that would have to be very firm.”
He just watched. She almost lost her courage, but the memory of Gregory’s florid face demanding her return from St. John and of the unctuous, patronizing way he had spoken to her, as if she were a stupid child, kept her resolve together.
“It would have to be someone who has a full life already, and interests that the marriage would permit him to pursue freely,” she continued. “A man who would accept half of my income and live within its means, and who would agree to permit me to use the rest as I choose. We would both have separate lives in reality. You might say that we would not really be married at all.”
“You are describing a man of undisputed honor, like my brother. A paragon among men. There are few like him.”
“I am describing an honorable man, but not a paragon. Maybe I am describing a man who would never accept a penny from a female friend but who might accept an extremely high amount from a wife. A man whose vast experiences mean that the candle does not burn unless he lights it. A man who need not seek pleasure with a wife because he can find it anywhere for a smile. A man like you.”
There. It was said.
His expression grew more intensely contemplative. He studied her as if he tried to decide if she was serious.
It seemed an eternity that they sat there with their silence broken by the sounds of city life and yard animals. She prayed that his enigmatic reaction did not hide abhorrence.
She had to look away. “I never thought to make this suggestion to another man, Dante. I know that you must think me unnatural, in ways that make Gregory’s accusations pale.”
“Not so unnatural, Fleur. However, are you sure that you have not outgrown your girlhood fear?”
“It is not a girlhood fear. My blood turns to ice at the thought of . . . When I heard that man bargaining for me . . . I could not breathe.” Her voice sounded frantic to her own ears. Her chest and mind filled with panic as it had that night.
He reached over and lightly stroked her hair. “Calm yourself, pretty flower. If you say it is so, I believe you.”
The silence stretched again. She closed her eyes and prayed he would not reject her outright.
“You have mentioned two agreements, regarding intimacy and money, that are out of the ordinary, Fleur. Are there any other unusual terms or specifics that I should hear?”
His willingness to listen gave her hope that the life she knew, the plans she had laid, would not be stolen from her. “The income derives from the trust my father left. I have lands and other funds, however, mostly inherited from my aunt. I want a promise that I can use or dispose of that property and income
Learning to Kill: Stories