The Extra Clause

Cassian really did visit the mansion every day. Those who knew nothing of the circumstances were only too happy to declare that the prospective Regent had fallen so passionately in love he had forgotten all sense of dignity. As far as Wilhelmina could see, however, he was simply enjoying himself—enjoying, specifically, the loud and thoroughly comic reactions of the Priestley household whenever he arrived bearing some new and spectacularly inappropriate gift. And of those reactions, none was more entertaining than that of a certain gentleman of the very highest rank.

The gifts themselves were a procession of absurdities: gold coins of highly questionable origin, an ivory model of a pirate ship, and on one occasion even an uncut sapphire. The stone was nearly as large as six-year-old George's head, and even allowing for how much it would shrink once cut, it was the sort of thing that ought to have been presented to Her Majesty the Queen. Benjamin had taken a firm stand against such expensive presents arriving before there was even an engagement, but Cassian only succeeded in making him angrier by insisting it was not an expensive gift at all—merely a peculiarly shaped rock.

In the end—if one could call so inevitable an outcome an "end"—Benjamin's patience ran dry before the week was even out.

"I am begging you, Mina, as a favor for the rest of my life. Take your suitor for a drive, a walk, anything—just get him the hell out of this house. Unless you would like to watch your brother's stomach develop a hole!"

Wilhelmina distilled that desperate plea into a neat little summary.

"Brother says we're free to go out."

"Shall we? I'll be down as soon as I'm ready."

As Wilhelmina disappeared up the stairs, Benjamin turned a murderous look on Cassian.

"You will bring my sister back without a single hair on her head out of place."

"Well now."

Cassian tilted his head with a show of awkward amusement.

"I think the first question we ought to settle is whether anyone in Winster is even capable of doing harm to Miss Priestley's hair."

Benjamin produced a cough that sounded remarkably like a curse, then stomped back to his study.

It was hardly surprising that Brighton's high society operated under a great many unspoken rules. According to that rulebook which both existed and did not exist, a man and a woman taking a drive in an open carriage was treated as a declaration of sorts.

"Who are those two in that carriage? Or is it just me, or do they look remarkably like Miss Wilhelmina Priestley and His Highness Cassian?"

"If there's nothing wrong with your eyesight, then yes, that's exactly what you saw. I saw the same thing."

"Good heavens. They've been saying His Highness visits the Priestley mansion practically every day. We'll be hearing of an engagement any moment now."

A true gossip could not survive a single day without other people's scandals and a cup of tea, and so they never neglected their sacred duty of consuming this delightful morsel of news.

"You don't suppose they're already thinking of an engagement?"

"They're driving an open carriage straight through the middle of Gloria Green—an engagement is the least of it. I'd wager His Highness could purchase a Special Marriage License tomorrow and I wouldn't even blink."

"But Miss Priestley has that dreadful scandal with the boatman. Surely His Highness wouldn't go so far as marriage..."

"You'd do well to watch your tongue. The evidence suggests those two will be exchanging vows before a clergyman any day now, and the moment they do, Miss Priestley will be a princess."

Jealous stares followed them or they didn't—either way, the two of them in the unshaded carriage made a picture of perfect tenderness. Wilhelmina murmuring something at Cassian's side as he drove at a leisurely pace was the very image of a pair of lovers... provided one was watching from a sufficient distance.

Wilhelmina demonstrated the remarkable talent of speaking with barely a movement of her lips, all while composing a look of perfect tenderness.

"To put the situation more precisely and clearly, Your Highness."

"Even after we go through with the marriage, performing as the ideal couple in front of other people is for your benefit, not mine."

"What an interesting line of reasoning."

"I'm simply trying to clarify the facts."

Wilhelmina pressed on without so much as a blink.

"The predicament I currently face will be perfectly resolved the moment I sign the marriage certificate. From that instant, my one and only ultimate goal becomes a divorce from Your Highness."

"Or perhaps the enormous settlement that would accompany said divorce."

It was the sort of observation that would have made a person with any sense of shame blush, but Wilhelmina's shameless smile never so much as wavered.

"If you're to achieve your purpose in marrying me—holding the Regency without a whisper of scandal—then for at least three years we must look more married than any other couple in Winster."

"I'm grateful for the precise calculation, though I do wonder whether you recall that those three years of married life are already included in the terms of our arrangement."

"I won't bother denying that I'm a rather selfish and mercenary person."

Having cheerfully admitted to her own lack of conscience—which only made her look more shameless—Wilhelmina continued.

"But my memory is perfectly intact, so you needn't worry. All I'm trying to say is, well. That the next three years of model married life are, quite clearly, labor performed to protect your position."

"Ah."

Cassian chimed in brightly.

"So this is where we arrive at your actual point."

"It wouldn't hurt to have a rider or two on our prenuptial agreement."

Smiling in the shade of her parasol, Wilhelmina looked every inch a young lady in love. And that wasn't entirely inaccurate—so long as one carefully remembered that the object of her affection was not Cassian himself, but the fortune she intended to extract from him.

"What sort of rider did you have in mind?"

"As I said, simply playing the married couple for three years isn't subject to a special clause. But there will be moments outside of ordinary circumstances—like right now, on this carriage—when we'll have to put on an infuriatingly convincing performance in front of all those gossips peeking at us. Attending tedious dinner parties and balls as a couple, and so on..."

"I suppose that's true."

"Here's the point. I want a special allowance for any extra labor beyond what was originally contemplated."

It would have been a lie to say he hadn't expected this at all, and equally a lie to say that he had. The one thing that was certain was that in all of Winster, Wilhelmina Priestley was the only person who would dare make such a demand of him.

"Hmm. A special allowance, is it..."

Whatever sum she named would be pocket change that wouldn't so much as dent Cassian's finances, but simply nodding along would have been no fun at all, so he drew it out.

"Well. Appearing together as a couple at public functions seems to me a rather basic obligation of married life."

When he deliberately played at being difficult, Wilhelmina immediately arched an eyebrow and struck back without mercy.

"You ought to think this through more carefully, Your Highness. Sitting there like a doll filling a seat is one thing. Conning the most jaded people in high society into believing we're the ideal couple is an entirely different matter."

As she argued that the latter required far more sophisticated acting and a far more thoroughly trained stomach, Wilhelmina's manner had grown considerably more serious than before.

"Even the actors at the Globe Theatre get a weekly wage. How can there be no compensation for the grueling labor of smiling at Your Highness like a lovesick fool?"

Cassian finally couldn't hold it in and burst out laughing.

One of Wilhelmina's eyebrows climbed to a dangerous angle.

"I didn't bring this up for your amusement."

"I didn't think you had. You were quite serious about it."

"Are you making fun of me?"