Lord Windon reached up to dip the tip of the quill in the ink pot. He scrapped the excess ink off the top and signed his signature with a flourish on the paper.

Lord Rochester’s solicitor, Mister Smythe, pulled another sheaf from his pile and tendered then to Lord Windon.

"Does this contain the condition I want affixed?" Windon accepted the paper offered.

"Yes sir. But I must say..." The solicitor started to explain but Lord Windon paid more attention to the paper in front of him.

"Is it legal?" He glanced through the papers.

"Yes, quite. Your instructions were quite precise. I dare say it would hold even against the Crown, and in that vein I must advice you to..." The solicitor was agitated.

"Very well, Smythe. I am most grateful."

"Sir, the process cannot be second guessed. And signing that paper in the presence of such a witness as Lord Rochester and I renders it completely binding," Smythe advised.

"I am well aware." Lord Windon nodded curtly.

Lord Rochester piped in finally. "I do not think Lord Windon will take kindly to the continued doubt you are casting on his actions."

"It is unheard of. I must..." Smythe sputtered again, trying a last-ditch effort to stop what he had no doubt concluded was an insane act.

One eyebrow raised in a look that had quelled even stronger men, made sure the rest of that sentence was lost. After the other man kept his thoughts to himself, Lord Windon took an inordinate amount of joy in signing this this particular paper. This was more a declaration Amelia than her father. He had no use for her estate and he was a man of his word, even if the circumstances had gone in ways he had never envisioned. She could console herself with the fact that she was losing nothing. Her life would not change in any way.

When he had signed it and rested the quill in the ink pot, Lord Rochester smiled proudly, looking slightly besotted. Lord Windon smiled back, if only in response. He felt guilt riding him and fear at her reaction. His entire life he had not feared another human being, not even his father. He had loathed his father, but not feared him. Here he was afraid of a wisp of girl. 

Lord Rochester’s solicitor was not smiling. He was not quite convinced that Lord Windon was sane. Perhaps this was an elaborate hoax for his benefit. Nevermind that his own part was just to draw up the papers, and he had taken his own sweet time presenting them. The instructions were quite unbelievable. It was an unheard of to have a husband give complete rights to a wife concerning her estates and her income.

Lord Rochester stated firmly, "Smythe, have my butler attend me. A bottle of our finest port to toast the future union of my daughter," he directed his solicitor.

Robert winced at Lord Rochester’s choice of words. It brought to mind what had happened, what had spurred this meeting. Lord Rochester did not catch his reaction thankfully. He looked at his employee, who greeted the order with a huff. Then the younger man got up from his chair and stalked towards the door in full disapproval. He was sure the man had consigned him to Bedlam.

When the door clicked, Lord Windon slouched slightly in his seat and looked at Lord Rochester, a sincere look now. The older man was still smiling. "I take it she has no idea what has transpired in the room." No fool, Lord Rochester.

"No, my lord." He had to tell the truth.

Lord Rochester stopped him with a wave of stiff fingers. "We are even closer than acquaintances, and if anything you must call me Frederick," he offered magnanimously.

"I cannot, my lord" Lord Windon said.

"You will find you can. Tell me this, I have a feeling that my daughter has no idea what is happening in this room,” Lord Rochester stated with a dry chuckle.

"I have not proposed—That is, I have discussed the idea with her, but she has not given me her answer." At Lord Rochester’s raised eyebrow he continued. "She would have given me her thoughts on it today, but I could not quite wait."

"A curious thing. I accepted your suit on her behalf because I know that she is not averse to you, and your intentions are kindly." Lord Rochester stated this in a quiet way. Lord Windon was confused as to the point of the words. He made a move to interrupt, but Lord Rochester just ploughed on with a stern look.

"You have proved it beyond doubt by the papers signed today. My solicitor might be overzealous, but he has aired the doubts I had, and knowing that you have shown us both up by signing anyway. For her sake, I am grateful from this match even if I shall leave the breaking of the news to you." Lord Rochester was finished. It was an acceptance speech, but Lord Windon could not help the wave of guilt and unease it evoked in himself.

Lord Windon fingered his cravat at that last thought. He caught the earl smiling widely at his obvious sign of discomfort and he stopped, patting the stifling knot. "I must return to my estates, post-haste." He was running away, there were no kinder words.

"You won’t stay here for the reading of the banns?" Lord Rochester asked, more a statement than a question. 

"There is no need. I will return on the third Monday and we can be married in the morning." The way he answered would mean he had discussed the issue with her. He had not at all done anything of the sort with her, but he doubted that a union with him was something she would be willing to celebrate.

"You will, however, allow me tonight to celebrate this?" He added quickly at the dissension on the face of Lord Windon. "I assure you, not a formal party but an announcement to the house and a festive dinner?"

"I cannot in good faith begrudge you that." He had the power to refuse and he wanted to refuse for other reasons, but he could not take the obvious pleasure of the older man.

"I thank you," Lord Rochester nodded.

The door opened to reveal the butler clutching a bottle and a service of crystal snifters. He placed the tray on the table in the study and made short work of the cork. The first glass was proffered to Lord Windon, then Lord Rochester, then Mister Smythe who was still sporting the obvious look of disbelief. Robert confessed to himself finally that the thought rankled endlessly. But he had more of that to face when the news spread. It was too bizarre an act to be kept under wraps forever. London would be a trial.

"To my daughter’s union." Lord Rochester proposed with an obvious cheer that was shown only by himself. The men raised their glasses and drained the contents. Lord Rochester merely wet his lips.

The butler was curious but held himself back. Lord Rochester noticed the gleaming curiosity and smiled now. “Lord Windon has signed the betrothal contract. Tell Cook there will be a banquet tonight to celebrate with the entire household. Break out the cask of summer ale in the cellar, Winthrop."

“Very well, your lordship." The butler greeted the news with a shudder of obvious relief that no one but Lord Windon caught. The butler exited, followed closely by Mister Smythe. Somehow Lord Windon knew the contents of the papers he had signed would be all over the estate by teatime.

"The matter of making things known to my daughter..." Lord Windon held his breath. "I believe I will leave that to you, as I have said earlier. But you must tell her before the dinner. It is only right."

Duty. Is that what would be left to him for the rest of his life? He was loath to spend the rest of his life doing what was right. He sighed softly. It would be shabby to expect Lord Rochester to break the news to his daughter. It was his own problems, and he had to deal with it by himself. Just not yet. He couldn't face her wrath just yet.