Her eyes twinkled appreciatively. “Yes, I deserved that. Very well, Sir Tristram, but you have not answered my question. Why did you take it into your head to marry your cousin?”
“You have been misinformed, ma’am. The idea was taken into my great-uncle’s head, not mine.”
She raised her brows. “Had you no voice in the matter then? Now, from what I have seen of you, I find that very hard to believe.”
“Do you imagine that I wanted to marry Eustacie for the sake of her money?” he demanded.
“No,” replied Miss Thane calmly. “I do not imagine anything of the kind.”
His momentary flash of anger died down; he said, less harshly: “Being the last of my name, ma’am, I conceive it to be my duty to marry. The alliance proposed to me by my great-uncle was one of convenience, and as such agreeable to me. Owing to the precarious circumstances to which the upheaval in France has reduced her paternal relatives, her grandfather’s death leaves Eustacie alone in the world, a contingency he sought to provide against by this match. I promised Sylvester upon his deathbed that I would marry Eustacie. That is all the story.”
“How do you propose to salve your conscience?” asked Miss Thane.
“My conscience is not likely to trouble me in this instance,” he answered. “Eustacie does not wish to marry me, and it would take more than a promise made to Sylvester to make me pursue a suit which she has declared to be distasteful to her. Moreover, had events turned out otherwise, Sylvester would have given her to Ludovic, not to me.”
“Oh, that is famous!” said Miss Thane. “We can now promote her betrothal to him with clear consciences. But it is vexing for you to be obliged to look about you for another lady eligible for the post you require her to fill. Are you set on marrying a young female?”
“I am not set on marrying anyone, and I beg that you—”