To Be Wicked with You (League of Unweddable Gentleman, Book 4) (Ebook)

1827, Marlborough, Wiltshire

Finley Stone, Duke of Carlisle, stared blankly at his solicitor. He would not believe what he’d been told. His father would not control his life, even after death. His decree would not be borne.
“Excuse me, Smithers, but can you repeat what you just said? I’m sure I did not hear correctly.”
His solicitor cleared his throat, lifting the parchment yet again. “You have been the duke for one year, may your father rest in peace. However, I am now at liberty to tell you that your father put in a stipulation to his will. If you do not marry within one year of his death, you have sixty days from the anniversary of his death to do so. If you fail this stipulation, the bulk of your fortune, the money, and any assets not entailed, will revert to your cousin, Andrew Stone of Kent.”
Finn leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. His mind balked at the idea of marrying. Not to mention what men were supposed to do with the opposite sex. The idea of being forced into that occupation both terrified and excited him. It terrified him more.
“So I would keep Carlisle Hall in Wiltshire, but will have no money to keep the estate running other than the income it produces, which we all know is not enough.”
“That’s right, Your Grace. As the owner of several profitable estates, to lose those to your cousin would financially impact you severely. And have devastating consequences for those who rely on your estates for their livelihood. I would suggest you marry posthaste, retain your assets, and secure your future as soon as possible.”
A wife? His stomach clenched, and he turned to stare out the window. He couldn’t lose his home, the only place he’d ever loved. God knows his wicked father had been too busy carousing London to care about his family at home.
His mother had passed when he was eight, and his father had rarely bothered with him. Finn had promised to be a better person than that. Someone his servants and friends would respect, a landlord who was reliable and not flippant.
“Well then, I suppose I have to return to London and find a bride.”
His solicitor cleared his throat, and Finn looked up, meeting his gaze. “Is there something else that I should be aware of, Smithers?”
“Your father has decreed that you are to find a wife here in Wiltshire. Someone local to Marlborough is preferable. He’s decreed you marry a woman from your home county as he thought it would be better for the staff if they have a mistress who is familiar with the area and the local peoples.”
Finn stared blankly at his solicitor. Was his father mad? Quite possibly, before his death and his wayward ways in London. Finn certainly had thought his sire had lost his mind. But a wife from Woodstock? There were only two noble families living close by, if he could call them that at all.
One family had several daughters, all of them under the age of ten. They would never do. The second family, The Miltons… Finn tried to remember the dynamics of the family. The father was a gentleman, living off the income from his small estate. He doubted there was any dowry for any of the girls. They did, however, have a son, although he was still in short coats.
“In effect my father is stating I need to marry one of the Milton girls, whom if I remember the number correctly is a total of two.”
Smithers nodded, coming to sit in the chair before his desk, rustling through the paperwork in his leather satchel. “That’s right, Your Grace. The eldest Miss Milton is beyond marriage, but her younger sister, Lucy, is not.”
“Who is the oldest Miss Milton again?” Finn asked, a face echoing through his mind from last season when he was in town.
“Ah,” Smithers said, searching further through the paperwork. “Miss Evie Milton. I believe she is friends with the Duchess of Whitstone and her social sphere.”
A vision of a dark-haired beauty that was well on her way to being on the shelf entered his mind. He’d danced with her if he recalled, their conversation somewhat awkward since she’d been less than engaged to speak. Surprising really, considering her and her friends were some of the most opinionated women in the ton.
“Does not Miss Milton live in London in Marchioness Ryley’s townhouse?” He frowned, certain he’d heard that after the marquess’s marriage, the marchioness had allowed her friends to remain in her London townhouse. Miss Milton being one of them.
“That is correct, Your Grace.”
“Hmm.” Finn leaned back in his chair, wondering what the younger Lucy Milton looked like. If she were as striking as her sister, she would do very well indeed. She was young still, from a respectable family, and the local area. All requirements that would satisfy his late father’s will.
“Do you expect Mr. Milton has any dowry for his daughters?” Not that it mattered, he was beyond wealthy and could afford to have a wife who came with very little or nothing at all. Even so, providing for female children on the off chance that you do not produce an heir told Finn a lot of a man’s character. Whether they were loving, forward-thinking, and honorable. All the characteristics his father was lacking.
“Two hundred pounds per annum. The elder Miss Milton came into her stipend when she turned twenty-five. Of course, they assumed she would be married by then, and well, that did not occur. The younger Miss Lucy is two and twenty years of age.”
“Very good. Well then,” Finn said, standing and bringing this meeting to an end. “Tomorrow I’ll commence my courting of Miss Lucy Milton and have it all settled by month’s end. I will call for you when everything is in place.”
Smithers bowed. “Very good, Your Grace. I wish you well in your endeavors and look forward to hearing the happy news.”
“Yes, well…” Finn said, sitting back down and watching his solicitor stride from the room. Happy news may be too much of an exaggeration. More like resigned would fit in this context.
Finn pulled a piece of parchment toward him, picking up his quill and scrawling a letter for Mr. Milton to expect him tomorrow at eleven. He would not tell the gentleman as to why, merely let them believe it was a natural attraction and courtship that will bring him to offer for Miss Lucy. That would be best.
One thing he did comprehend was that no bride wanted to hear her betrothed only asked out of necessity. Or, in this case, the pain of disinheritance.