“What of children?” he asked.
“Do you want them?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I’ve never thought of it before.”
“Then I think we should allow ourselves a suitable period of adjustment, don’t you? If the arrangement does not work out between us, we could then seek an annulment.”
“Non-consummation is not grounds for annulment, Hen,” he said. “Only impotence allows a marriage to be dissolved, and I assure you I do not suffer from that particular affliction.”
A wave of heat crept up her neck at Julian’s intimation. Her flush deepened further at the recollection of their night at the inn. She was too well aware that he was capable, but did he desire it? He gave no true indication. His arguments thus far were rational rather than passionate, as if they were negotiating a bargain. But weren’t they? What had she expected? That Julian would suddenly take her into his arms and declare he couldn’t live without her? She chided herself for harboring ridiculous romantic fantasies.
“You are not considering all angles,” Julian continued, unaware of her thoughts. “To wed me would be robbing yourself of any possibility of finding a man you could actually love.”
But you are the one I love. She bit down on her tongue lest she blurt the truth.
“I could say the same of you,” she replied softly.
“No, Hen,” he said with a bitter laugh. “You are capable of that depth of feeling. I am not. I simply do not have it in me . . . not anymore.”
She studied him, unable to read his emotions. Was it truly lack of feeling, or his worthiness that he questioned? Did he not consider himself deserving of love?
“I don’t believe you. We are all capable of love, Julian.”
“I am living proof to the contrary. Now that Thomas is gone, you and Harry are the only people on this earth that I even care about anymore. The rest of the world can go to the devil. ”
She laid her gloved hand on top of his arm. “I care for you too, Julian,” she said softly. “And I don’t want you to leave. Please consider my offer.”
“I despise the notion of taking your money, Hen. Doing so would cast me in the same mold as Winston. The very idea makes me cringe.”
“Hardly!” she retorted. “You would not be taking anything that isn’t freely offered. I wish to give you the money, don’t you understand? I want you to keep the home that is rightfully yours. In return, I hope to live my own life with a measure of independence that I might not have otherwise.”
“Are you truly certain about this, Hen?” Julian asked. “You would be getting the short end of this bargain, I assure you.”
Was he right? Was she selling herself short by proposing to a man who didn’t love her? Then again, they at least had a deep friendship. That was more than many wedded couples shared. Perhaps other feelings would grow in time? The prospect of a passionless marriage filled her with a hollow ache, but she would rather live without passion than to be tried and found wanting.
He paused in front of the banked hearth and stared into the smoldering coals. “I don’t wish to ruin your life.”
“What life?” she countered. “If we do not do this thing, what have either of us to look forward to?”
“Point taken,” he replied bitterly.
“Will you do it?” she asked.
“If we agree, we must act quickly,” he said. “There will be no time to call the banns or plan a wedding.”
She laughed. “It’s no matter to me. You know how I despise weddings.”
Julian rose and went to his desk. Taking up a quill, he quickly scrawled and sanded a note and then rang for his servant. “What are you doing?” she asked.
Julian replied with a tight smile. “Informing my solicitor of the happy news. It seems I am about to wed an heiress.”
***