Raquel took extra care with her dress and hair that morning. She wasn't entirely sure yet if she really liked Lord Marquina – he simply hadn't said enough last night for her to form an informed opinion of him – but she knew her parents really wanted this match and she felt like she owed it to them to make an effort. When she came downstairs for breakfast, Laura was already there. Her husband was at his office most of the day, and they hadn't been blessed with any children yet, so her sister spent most of her days in her parental home. Usually, Raquel didn't mind, but today she rather wished her sister could have stayed away – she had the sense that Lord Marquina would be more comfortable if fewer people were present. The best way to get to know him would probably be to speak to him alone, but she knew that that was absolutely out of the question. As a proper gentleman, Lord Marquina would only request to speak to her alone if he wanted to propose marriage – until then, they would always need at least one chaperone.

"What time will Lord Marquina be here?" Marivi asked.

"Two o'clock", Raquel replied.

"I can't believe he's actually coming to court you", Laura said, equal amounts of excitement and envy in her voice.

"Well, his brother did declare his intentions beforehand", Marivi said. "We already knew he was interested in the match."

There was still something nagging at Raquel.

"You're absolutely sure he doesn't just need money, Mother?"

"Very sure", her mother said firmly. "Your father reviewed his finances very thoroughly. As I've said before: he's not rich, but he lives comfortably, and he's very careful with his money."

"And what about his brother?" she asked suspiciously.

"Of course we looked into his finances too. There's some debt there, but not much. He should be able to pay it off without much trouble."

Raquel nodded, satisfied.

At two o'clock exactly, the footman announced the arrival of a caller.

"Lord Sergio Marquina", he said, handing Marivi the card. "And Lord De Fonollosa."

Raquel felt a distinct sense of disappointment. If Lord Marquina had brought his brother, she knew who would be doing most of the talking. And indeed, Lord De Fonollosa entered the room with a charming smile and compliments all around, while his brother merely hovered silently at his shoulder, barely nodding at the ladies. They all sat down, and there was some light talk of the weather and last night's soiree – nothing substantial, nothing particularly interesting. Lord Marquina said nothing and kept his eyes on his hands. After a while, Raquel began to feel a little annoyed – how was she supposed to get a sense of his personality if he didn't say a word? She decided a direct approach would be best.

"Lord Marquina", she said crisply, and he looked up in alarm. "When we talked about abolition last night, you said you were in favor of abolishing the slave trade. Would you say you are a progressive thinker on other matters as well?"

Her mother and sister threw her reproving looks – it wasn't really proper to enquire so directly after a man's political opinion, but she didn't care.

He blinked. "I… I would say so, yes."

"What do you think of married women spending time outside of the home?"

She knew it wasn't subtle, but this matter was important to her, and she didn't want to waste time on courting only to find out later that he was conservative when it came to the activities of his wife – better to get this straight right from the beginning, for both their sake. To her annoyance, though, it was Lord De Fonollosa who answered.

"A woman's proper place is in the home, with her family."

"You are a truly revolutionary thinker, sir", she said drily, and then turned to his brother. "Do you agree with him?"

"No", he said succinctly, and she perked up.

"So you think women of rank should be allowed to join societies or… or even direct a charity?"

He shrugged. "Why not?"

Her heart leapt, but she wanted to be absolutely sure.

"You would allow your wife to pursue her own interests?"

He looked up at her, seeming surprised by the question.

"Honestly, I would encourage it."

At that point, her mother intervened and steered the conversation back to a more socially acceptable topic, but Raquel stopped paying attention. She felt a warm sense of elation as she kept looking at Lord Marquina – he clearly was a lot more modern in his opinions than any of her previous suitors, and that was exactly what she was looking for in a husband. He suddenly looked up and caught her eye, and instead of immediately looking away again, he gave her a subtle nod and she felt with a rush of satisfaction that they understood each other perfectly.

…

"Andrés, I'm not sure I can keep doing this."

They had just gotten home from their third visit to the Murillos, and Sergio was exhausted. For their past two visits, there had been other callers beside him and Andrés, and it had made him extremely uncomfortable. He'd lived alone in his house for years and years, spending his days in quiet contemplation and study, and the sudden increase in social interaction – with strangers, no less – was overwhelming.

"Why not?" his brother said, seating himself in front of the fireplace with a catlike air of satisfaction. "It's going amazingly well. She's an enchanting creature."

Is she? Sergio thought. He couldn't say he'd been able to form a real opinion of Miss Murillo other than that she was quite intelligent and rather more outspoken than was proper for a young lady – not that he cared. But apart from that, he'd been so focused on following the many, many rules of proper social conduct that he hadn't been able to spend much time observing her. He knew that one misstep, one word or gesture that would be seen as improper could disqualify him as a suitor, so he tried to say and do as little as possible, only answering direct questions, trying not to spill his tea. As far as he was concerned, there was simply no opportunity to really get to know anyone at social calls, and he couldn't imagine that he was making a good impression on her.

"She'll never like me, Andrés", he said, frustrated. "I can't speak in those situations, I just don't know what to say! Maybe we should just give up."

"Nonsense", his brother said. "You're clearly exactly the kind of husband she's looking for."

Was he really?

"I don't know…" he said, leaning back in his chair, feeling utterly drained. "Don't you think she should marry someone who actually wants to marry her? She seems like a nice girl, and I'm just using her for her money."

"And she's using you to get a title! She's not stupid, Sergio, she knows why you're interested in her, and it doesn't seem to be a problem for her, so why should it be for you?"

"I don't think that I would be a good husband to her…"

Andrés snorted. "From what I can see, she just wants a husband who will stay out of her way and who will let her do whatever she wants. I feel like you should be able to manage that."

He hesitated – perhaps his brother had a point. Perhaps this was just as much a business transaction to her as it was to him, just in a different way. Perhaps she was playing her own game of chess, perhaps she was trading money for freedom and, intelligent as she was, she was undoubtedly aware of what she was doing. She seemed like a sensible girl – perhaps she didn't expect any romance at all.

"And anyway", Andrés continued, "my debt will be due soon. We don't really have time to try to find another girl – and it would be stupid anyway, when this one is so perfect."

Sergio did have to admit that he didn't like the thought of having to start the game over with someone new – every courting visit was a nerve-wracking experience for him, and the sooner this was all over and he could go back to his normal life, the better.

"Fine", he sighed. "Let's just get this over with, then. How many more visits do you think we'll need before I can propose to her?"

"If we can keep up two or three visits a week, I think a month or two ought to do it."

Sergio groaned. Two more months of this torture? Even the thought of one more social call made his skin crawl, and he suddenly wished it would all go away, he wished he never had to see any of the Murillos ever again. How had his life suddenly changed so drastically? He just wanted to get back to his books… He rubbed a hand over his eyes and sighed. Two more months. Well, he reflected, at least that gave him some time to get used to the idea of marriage – though he rather wondered if he'd ever get used to it.

…

Fate, however, had other plans. Two days later, Sergio was sitting in front of the fireplace playing chess by himself. He didn't mind that his brother was staying with him, but soon he would never have the house to himself anymore, so he was enjoying a last few moments of solitude while Andrés was visiting a neighbor. He looked up as the door opened and raised his eyebrows as his brother staggered in, covered in mud. His first thought was that Andrés was drunk and had fallen down, but then he saw the blood, and he jumped up in alarm.

"Andrés!"

He rushed over and helped his brother to one of the chairs in front of the fire. He was limping and cradling his hand, one of his eyes was bruised and swollen shut, and his nose looked broken – blood had streamed liberally down his face and onto his shirt. He groaned as Sergio lowered him carefully into the chair.

"What the hell happened to you?!"

"I was… walking back from the Knightleys…"

"Why didn't you take a carriage?"

"I needed the exercise, and it isn't far. Anyway, I was walking along the chestnut lane, when suddenly two thugs jumped out at me and… well, you can see what happened."

Sergio was aghast. "Robbers, in our parish? It's always been completely safe here!"

"They weren't robbers", Andrés said, gingerly touching his nose and wincing. "They were sent."

"By whom?" Sergio frowned.

"Well", his brother said lightly, now feeling his split lip, "I have debt in several places. Some of them are… less than savory."

Sergio threw him an incredulous look. "Don't tell me you went to a moneylender."

"I didn't have a choice."

"You could have chosen not to gamble."

Andrés waved a dismissive hand. "Yes, yes, I don't need the lecture. Get me a scotch, will you?"

Sergio rang the bell for the footman, ordering him to bring drinks and send for a doctor. His brain was working through the implications of this, and suddenly something clicked.

"Ah", he said softly. "You went to a moneylender so your other creditors wouldn't realize how much debt you have, right? If people enquired into your finances, they wouldn't find a debt with an illegal moneylender."

Andrés merely raised his eyebrows, and Sergio sighed.

"So you think that moneylender sent these men to beat you up?"

"Yes, I'm quite sure of it."

"Why?"

"To remind me that my debt is due."

Sergio felt himself go cold. "How… how much time do you have before they… come back?"

Andrés gave him a long look, then said:

"A month."

"A month?"

"That's what they said."

"And… and what happens then?"

"I think you can use your imagination."

Sergio ran a hand over his eyes.

"What are we going to do?"

His brother sat up straighter, a businesslike expression on his face.

"I'll tell you what we're going to do. You're going to propose to Miss Murillo. Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes. There's no time to lose, the engagement will last three weeks. If she accepts you tomorrow, we'll have the money just in time."

"But she barely knows me, we've only seen each other three times!"

Andrés shrugged. "It can't be helped."

"She'll never accept me."

"You can at least try, Sergio. If she says no, we can still sell the town house, but I think you have a shot."

He felt a stab of panic. Would he really be engaged tomorrow, to a woman he only met last week? Would he be married within three weeks, to this total stranger? He'd barely started to wrap his head around the idea of having a wife – this was all much too sudden. He opened his mouth to say so, but then he looked at Andrés, beaten and bruised, a thin trickle of blood still streaming from his nose. His brother. His protector. His only friend. There was no guarantee that they would be able to sell the town house within a month, even if they wanted to, and then what would happen to him? Actually, Sergio thought, swallowing hard, he knew what would happen to him, and he couldn't let that happen. He had to do whatever he could to protect his brother, even if there was only a small chance of success. He would have to try and win the queen with one risky move.

"Alright", he whispered, looking down at his chess board. "Alright. I'll propose to her tomorrow."

…

When the footman announced only Lord Marquina the next day, Raquel felt pleased. Finally he'd come without his brother, and she expected no other callers – perhaps they could have an actual conversation today. When he entered the room, she could immediately see that he was very nervous, but she thought that was because his brother wasn't with him and he knew he'd have to carry the conversation alone. She resolved to try to provide him with topics of conversation he might feel comfortable with.

"Lord Marquina!" her mother said, smiling. "Such a pleasure to see you again."

She gestured towards a chair, but he remained standing.

"Mrs. Murillo, might I… might I speak to your daughter alone, please?"

Raquel's eyebrows shot up, and she looked at her mother, who looked back at her with the same expression of surprise. There was really only one reason why a gentleman would want to speak to an unmarried lady alone, but she would never have expected shy Lord Marquina to get to that point so quickly. She realized with a flash of alarm that she hadn't even thought about whether or not she would accept him if he asked, because she thought it would be weeks or even months before she had to make that decision. Her mother was looking at her questioningly – if she didn't want the proposal, her mother would deny them any privacy and he would leave. For a moment, she hesitated, but then she nodded at her mother. She was curious to hear what he had to say.

Marivi got up.

"Of course, Lord Marquina", she said, then left the room.

The moment the door closed behind her, an awkward silence fell as Raquel waited expectantly for him to speak. He seemed to be gathering his courage, then finally he cleared his throat and said, with his eyes on the ground:

"I imagine you know why I'm here."

Oh no, he wasn't getting away with it so easily.

"I wouldn't want to presume, sir", she said lightly.

He suppressed a smile.

"Fair enough. I… I'm here to ask for your hand in marriage, Miss Murillo."

She considered him.

"This is very fast, Lord Marquina. We barely know each other."

He nodded. "I'm aware of that." He finally looked up at her. "But sometimes you don't need any more time to know that you're compatible."

She looked into his eyes, and for once, he didn't look away. Yes, it was true that he seemed much more compatible with her than any of her previous suitors. They hadn't seen each other often, and he hadn't said much when they had, but throughout their conversations she'd caught glimpses of his character: kind, open-minded, intelligent, humorous. He was shy and that made him awkward in social situations, but once she got him alone, in his own home, where he felt comfortable, he would be quite different – she was sure of it.

"You would have complete freedom", he assured her quietly. "You could go wherever you wanted, follow any of your interests. You could use your money at your own discretion. I assure you that I'm an honorable man, I… I don't think I have any vices. Miss Murillo, I think… I really think we might suit each other."

She considered asking for more time, but really, what was there to think about? He was everything she could ask for in a husband, and on top of that, her parents truly wanted the match. Perhaps, she thought to herself, perhaps it would have been nice if there had been talk of love, but she already knew him well enough to realize that he wasn't the kind of person to talk about his feelings – at least not yet. And wasn't the very fact that he'd proposed marriage to her so soon a sign of the way he felt about her? As to her own feelings, well… as she looked at him, she had to admit that she was attracted to him, that she was already starting to like him, a lot. She was sure that she could learn to love him soon. If she refused him now, she would embarrass him and he might not ask again, and she was well aware that she would probably never find a better suitor.

So she took a deep breath and sat up straighter.

"Lord Marquina", she said. "I accept your proposal."

He blinked at her, seeming completely taken by surprise, and she suppressed a smile. Clearly he hadn't expected to be accepted. He cleared his throat.

"I… I feel like I need to be entirely honest with you, Miss Murillo. I wouldn't want you to feel in any way that I'm… that I'm deceiving you. You see… my brother has some debt."

She nodded. "I know about that."

He hesitated, then said: "It's a considerable amount. Some of your dowry would be used to pay for it."

She nodded again, amused that what her mother had described as 'not much' was 'a considerable amount' to him.

"That's not a problem."

"Look, it's… it's more than you think…"

She waved a hand and cut him off. Her dowry would be big enough to cover it.

"It doesn't matter."

"You see, some of it is at a moneylender, and…"

She didn't see why it mattered where his brother had debt and with whom, so she cut him off again.

"Truly sir, it doesn't matter."

He gave her a doubtful look.

"Are you sure? Because if… if you would like to change your answer, I would understand. I wouldn't hold it against you."

"No", she said calmly. "I still accept your proposal."

He looked like he couldn't believe his luck, and she smiled, suddenly confident that she had made the right choice.

…

Sergio wasn't quite sure what he felt. Surprise, certainly – he couldn't quite believe that she'd actually accepted him, that his gamble had worked – that the queen was his. He looked at her as she smiled at him, and he wondered what had brought her to say yes. Did she even like him? He couldn't tell. But then again, he supposed it didn't matter. If she accepted a proposal after only a week and a half, and in the full knowledge that he would use her dowry to pay a debt, that confirmed to him that she wasn't interested in romance, but rather in his title and the freedom he promised her. That was perfect, of course – this marriage would be a clean transaction on both sides.

He bowed deeply.

"Miss Murillo", he said, "you honor me."

He straightened up again.

"Shall I go ask your father for permission?"

"Yes", she smiled, "though I'm certain he won't object."

He smiled back at her, bowed again, and left the room, glad that he had found such a sensible woman.

…

Raquel sat smiling to herself as her mother came back in, her eyes wide.

"I saw him go into your father's study", she said breathlessly. "Raquel… did you accept him?"

"Yes", she smiled, then stood up so her mother could embrace her.

"Oh sweetheart! I'm so happy for you! He's such an excellent match, and I'm sure he's a good man."

"Yes", Raquel said softly. "Yes, I'm sure of that too."

"But why did he ask you so soon?"

"He said he just knew we were compatible."

"His feelings must be stronger than he's showing on the surface, then."

Raquel blushed, pleased.

"Honestly", her mother continued, "now that I think of it, I'm not so surprised he proposed so soon. It's often the quiet ones where the feelings run deepest, and really any sensible man would fall in love with you immediately."

Raquel laughed and shook her head, but she was pleased nonetheless. Engaged – she couldn't believe she was engaged. Only about three weeks now, and her life would finally begin. A life of freedom, of interesting conversations, of companionship… of love. She knew they would need a little time to get to know each other better, but she was sure – so sure – that over time, she would come to love her husband dearly.