I'm investigating Lady Celia's potential suitors."
"Oh," she said in a small voice.
He glanced at her, surprised to find her looking stricken. "What's wrong?"
"I didn't know she had suitors."
"Of course she has suitors." Not any he could approve of, but he wasn't about to mention that to his aunt. "I'm sure you read about her grandmother's ultimatum in those reports you transcribed. She has to marry, and soon, too."
"I know. But I was rather hoping...I mean, with you there so often and her being an unconventional sort..." When he cast her a quizzical look, she went on more forcefully, "There's no reason you couldn't offer for her."
He nearly choked on his bread. "Are you out of your mind?"
"She needs a husband. You need a wife. Why not her?"
"Because marquess's daughters don't marry bastards, for one thing."
The coarse word made her flinch. "You're still from a perfectly respectable family, no matter the circumstances of your birth." She eyed him with a sudden gleam in her eye. "And I notice you didn't say you weren't interested."
Hell. He stopped up from gravy with his bread. "I'm not interested."
"I'm not saying you have to be in love with her. That would perhaps be asking too much at this point, but if you courted her, in time-"
"I would fall in love? With Lady Celia? That isn't possible."
"Why not?"
Because what he felt for Celia Sharpe was lust, pure and simple. He didn't even know if he wanted to fall in love. It was all fine and well for the Sharpes, who could love where they pleased, but for people like him and his mother, love was an impossible luxury...or a tragedy in the making.
That's why he couldn't let his desire for Lady Celia overcome his reason. His hunger for her might be more powerful than he cared to admit, but he'd controlled it until now, and he would get the best of it in time. He had to. She was determined to marry someone else.
His aunt was watching him with a hooded gaze. "I hear she's somewhat pretty."
Hell and blazes, she wouldn't let this go. "You hear? From whom?"
"Your clerk. He saw her when the family came in to the office one time. He's told me about all the Sharpes, how they depend on you and admire you."
He snorted. "I see my clerk has been doing it up brown."
"So she's not pretty?"
"She's the most beautiful woman I've ever-" At her raised eyebrow, he scowled. "Too beautiful for the likes of me. And of far too high a consequence."
"Her grandmother is a brewer. Her family has been covered in scandal for years. And they're grateful to you for all you've done so far. They might be grateful enough to countenance your suit."
"You don't know the Sharpes."
"Oh, so they're too high and mighty? Treat you like a servant?"
"No," he bit out. "But..."
"By my calculations, there's two months left before she has to marry. If she's had no offers, she might be getting desperate enough to-"
"Settle for a bastard?"
"Ignore the difference in your stations." She seized his arm. "Don't you see, my boy? Here's your chance. You're on the verge of becoming Chief Magistrate. That would hold some weight with her.

Auteur: Sabrina Jeffries