The Arrangement

Chapter 2

Chapter 2Vincent spent most of the next two days buried in the paperwork related to Fallshire that he had avoided over the past few months, trying to total up the rents from a distance and utterly failing at it. When his mother presented herself on the third day, Vincent met her with no small sense of relief for the distraction.

“What brings you back to me so soon?” he asked over a light dinner, chicken and bread and pastries, with coffee to wash it all down.

She sipped from her cup daintily, then set it carefully back in the saucer. “I have a candidate for you,” she said conspiratorially.

Vincent straightened, surprised. “That was quick.”

“He was my first notion, and happens to be in town, as is his mother, so they could be consulted at once.”

“Well, tell me,” Vincent urged, when she seemed inclined to be close-mouthed. “Do not keep me in suspense.”

The corner of her lips curled up, proving that her reticence had been a jest. “I will relieve you,” she said. “It is the second son of the Lady Matsui.”

Vincent sat back, a prick of interest setting his nerves alight. “Matsui Eiji?” he asked, seeking for clarification. “The coldest, most reserved man in the nobility?” And the most beautiful, by common consensus. “What on earth could he want with me?”

“Who knows?” his mother asked, waving her hand airily, with a twinkle in her eye. “But I proposed the match to Lady Matsui, and she proposed it to her son, and I received a note this morning that told me I may bring his name to you as a possibility.”

Matsui Eiji. Vincent tapped his chin with his finger, deep in thought.

For all that Matsui Eiji had been a part of society for many years, Vincent did not actually know much about the man. He had seen him across the room at parties and balls, and certainly the man was as beautiful as his reputation; but he had never spared so much as a single glance for Vincent and his crowd, preferring the company of one or two close confidantes and spurning all other comers.

“I wouldn’t be his first proposal,” Vincent observed, still thinking. Ever since Matsui’s period of mourning for his deceased husband, after a short-lived marriage of less than a year, rumors and more than rumors had reached Vincent’s crowd of suitors attempting to win the famed beauty’s hand. By all accounts he had been kind in his rejections, but they had been implacable nonetheless.

“No, you wouldn’t,” Vincent’s mother said, breaking into his thoughts, “but you would have a better chance than any of the others, from what his mother said.”

Vincent focused on her, narrowing his eyes. “What did his mother say?”

“Not much,” Lady Pennsbury admitted, taking another sip of coffee. “Just that your proposal of a nontraditional marriage arrangement intrigued him, and he is open to discussing it further with us. You’ve heard the rumors about his first marriage, of course.” Her voice lilted up at the end, making her sentence a question.

“No,” Vincent said, leaning forward against the table, intrigued. “Tell me.”

“Well, you know he reverted to his family name after his husband’s death,” Lady Pennsbury said, the light of gossip alive in her eyes. “That is never the sign of a healthy relationship.” Vincent acknowledged this with a nod; it was not unheard of, for a person to shed their married name after the death of a spouse, but it was rather uncommon, and was usually taken to be a sign of relief rather than grief. “And Sakamoto, his husband, was perfectly respectable, but known to be a touch moody and precise; not at all the sort a person looks to for romance.” She shrugged. “Combined with his willingness to entertain your barely-a-marriage, it speaks of a man disenchanted with the institution.”

“Interesting.” Vincent leaned back in his chair. “But his reputation is so pristine, it’s a wonder he would risk sullying it by tying himself to me.”

“Your reputation is not so sullied as all that,” Lady Pennsbury said with another wave. “Yes, you’ve had a fair few lovers, but you’ve treated them all well, and been discreet, and none of them have anything but praise for you.”

“You’ve kept an eye on my reputation, then?” Vincent said with a wicked grin in her direction.

“Of course I have,” she sniffed. “Someone ought to.”

“Hmm.” For a chance to think, Vincent buttered another hunk of bread and ate it slowly.

He had to hand it to his mother; Matsui Eiji was an inspired choice of candidate. He had his own money, both from his family and his deceased husband, so Vincent’s coffers would be safe, and by all accounts well-tended. And if his first marriage had been as unhappy as Lady Pennsbury suspected, then Vincent’s proposal for their arrangement might indeed be more welcome than the others he had received.

The only snag was the man’s remarkable beauty. Vincent had been honest with his mother when he’d said he cared not for how his spouse looked, and he still had no intention of bedding whomever he married, but to deliberately tie himself to temptation in the form of society’s loveliest face?

Well, Vincent thought, brushing crumbs off his hands. The man is reserved enough that likely I prove no temptation to him, and thus the matter is resolved. “I’ll speak to Matsui,” he decided out loud. “You’ve done wonderfully well, Mother; I thank you.”

She accepted this with another small smile. “I’ll write back to Lady Matsui, then, and request a meeting between you and her son,” she said. “Are you available on Thursday?” He nodded. “Excellent,” she said, setting her napkin aside. “I shall let you know what time to expect him.”

She left shortly after that, but Vincent was not alone for long; there was a society party that evening, something guaranteed to be dull but that nonetheless required his attendance. As a result, Edward dropped by for supper, an hour before the event, and they departed together in Vincent’s carriage. “Roger has a headache,” Edward reported. “Lucky devil.”

“If I didn’t know him better, I would swear he developed them on purpose,” Vincent remarked, and Edward laughed.

The party was held in the second-largest event hall in town, hosted by some distant cousin-thrice-removed of Vincent’s; no title, but of high enough standing to command a sizable crowd in attendance. Vincent’s dance card was half-full before the time he arrived, and filled to bursting by the time he and Edward had obtained drinks and tucked themselves into a corner to watch people socialize.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have been, given the man’s standing relative to his own, but Vincent felt a faint frisson of surprise to see none other than Matsui Eiji in another corner, deep in discussion with a dark-skinned man Vincent did not know.

He really was remarkably attractive, Vincent reflected, sipping at his brandy. Matsui was sweetly rotund, his clothing tailored expertly around his curves, with round cheeks and piercing dark eyes. His hair fell to his shoulders in sinful waves, and his lips were plush and pale, begging to be reddened by kisses. Vincent felt himself stir, even from a half-obscured glimpse across a smoky room.

Edward caught him staring. “Tell me you’ve not set your sights on Mr. Matsui,” he teased, jostling Vincent’s shoulder. “You’d have better luck seducing the chair you’re sitting on.”

“I have set my sights on him,” Vincent admitted, “but not for seduction.” He gave Edward a meaningful look.

Edward’s eyebrow raised in response. “You intend to marry Matsui Eiji? Really? Would he even have you?”

“Well, that is a bit premature,” Vincent allowed. “He has expressed interest in my offer of a business match, and we are to discuss the matter in a few days. My mother arranged it.”

“Really.” Edward looked delighted. “You’ve heard the rumors about his first marriage, of course,” he said in a low voice, leaning closer to Vincent for an illusion of privacy in the crowded room.

“Briefly,” Vincent said, wondering if he was the last man in town to hear about them. “What do you know?”

“Not much,” Edward said. “Just that he did not wear mourning a day longer than necessary, and was at the courthouse to revert to his family name the day after he shed the black.”

“Well, so much the better for me, if traditional marriage is not his desire,” Vincent said. Despite his apparent unconcern, his mind was whirring; his mother’s penchant for gossip had been passed on to him, and he found himself desperately curious to know more about Matsui’s ill-fated first marriage.

Edward clapped him on the shoulder. “I wish you luck, my friend. Romance or not, the man is a catch and a half.”

The band began to stir, and Vincent’s first dance partner, the fourth daughter of Count Bridgers, approached him shyly. Edward was claimed by his own partner, and they took their places on the dance floor.

Over the shoulder of his partner, Vincent saw Matsui Eiji turn to look at the assembled couples. He was not dancing, but that was not surprising; Matsui Eiji famously did not dance, turning down requests for sets as implacably as he did requests for his hand.

As Vincent was turning away, their eyes locked, and he found he could not turn away immediately. Matsui’s gaze seemed to pierce him through, rooting him to the spot, as though Matsui could see inside him to his very thoughts. After a long moment, the man toasted him with his glass, giving him a solemn nod, which Vincent returned. Only then could Vincent free himself and turn to his partner, just in time for the first notes of the dance to strike out.