A Hasty Betrothal

“Yes, my reputation.” John narrowed his eyes. “I’ve worked hard for the latest bills that have passed the House. There is so much to accomplish and something like this...well, it tarnishes credibility. My parents come from a pristine lineage. Impeccable bloodlines. This is something that would drag our name through the muck for years to come.”

Miles studied his friend. He cared little for reputations or the idle gossip of the ton, but would Elizabeth be able to live with disparaging her family? Would they ever let her forget what her lapse in judgment had caused?

Not that he truly blamed her for her nighttime excursion. Wrottesley was the culprit, and the urge to soundly thrash him still ran through Miles. Revealing how Elizabeth left the ballroom and went outside alone would be indiscreet, though. And what would it accomplish to tell the full story? Then John would demand honor from Wrottesley, and Miles absolutely would never allow her to be joined to such a man.

He owed John, though. His friend had shielded Miles and Anastasia’s family from gossip. He had used his influence to hide the truth of Anastasia’s death. Miles swallowed hard, hating what was to come, and yet knowing it to be necessary.

Mouth dry, he said, “I shall speak to Elizabeth. I make no promises.”

John left quickly after that. Miles called for his rig. The sooner he spoke to her, the sooner he could rid himself of this terrible sense of duty.

Marriage.

The very word turned him squeamish.

He was shown into the Dunlops’ residence with little fanfare. He found Elizabeth in the library, surveying a shelf of books. He acknowledged that her lustrous hair and unique eye color were not so difficult to gaze upon. Her lips were delicately shaped and rosebud pink. John’s demand echoed in his mind.

Miles enjoyed Bitt’s company. Felt a measure of affection for her.

Perhaps a marriage of convenience was not so preposterous, after all.

But he greatly hoped she rejected the notion. For all he knew, she had an admirer in the wings, waiting to rescue her.

“Good morning, Bitt.”

She heaved a sigh much too big for her tiny frame. “Miles Hawthorne. You are up early today.”

“I went to take care of Wrottesley.”

“And?” She turned to him, eyes questioning, wary.

“He was not home.” He cleared his throat. “Another matter has been brought to my attention.”

“I daresay it has to do with this morning’s gossip?”

“John came to see me.”

“He is overly worried about many things. It shall blow over. This talk of ruination—” she fluttered her fingers as though waving off a bothersome bug “—is nothing. I have no desire to be married. Surely, being a widower, you understand.”

Miles blinked, gathering his wits, trying to rein in his reeling thoughts. It was a smidge hard with Bitt staring up at him so wide-eyed and upset. She’d always had enormous and expressive eyes. Such a pale blue they were almost crystalline.

Unfortunately, he doubted any suitors ever saw Elizabeth’s eyes as, more often than not, she kept her face trapped in novels.

“What I don’t understand,” he said slowly, “is your flippancy. You are not worried?”

“Certainly I’m a tad concerned. This gossip will bring out desperate fortune hunters.” She planted her hand on a shapely hip. “It is paramount I find a way to fix this. I will find a way. I must.” A trace of panic edged her words. “No man shall want me for myself, Miles, and you know that is the truth.”

“I did not think you so vain.” Miles spoke slowly, knowing his words would incite her. Better to face her irritation than to hear that panicked note in her voice. “Assuming no man will want you based on your appearance is presumptuous.”

She whipped a hand acrobatically through the air. “Presumptuous? Vain? How dare you criticize me when the woman you married was always called a diamond of the first water. I may have been in the schoolroom, but Anastasia’s attributes were often remarked upon in my family. One could hardly travel through London without hearing of her beauty.”

Miles’s jaw clenched. “Anastasia’s looks had nothing to do with our marriage.”

“Nothing?” Her hand fell and she gave him a glare that turned his stomach queasy. It was as though she saw through to his inner depths and found him wanting. Her accusation was a slap to his conscience.

“I fell in love with Anastasia because of her laugh,” he said tightly. It was true. She’d giggled infectiously during their courtship and loved to tease. If only he’d known that her heights of happiness were often followed by depths of sadness he had no power to rouse her from.

Bitt’s head bent, as though she regretted her harsh words. “I recall her laugh and it was quite lovely. I apologize for my impetuous words. Of course you loved her for more than her beauty. It was unkind of me to suggest otherwise. Perhaps my own insecurities have blinded me to what a man desires in a wife.”

“Any man would be fortunate to have you as his bride.” Miles tapped his fingers against his thigh. “This situation you find yourself in... John and I are concerned.”

“He is overprotective. He need not worry though, because I have no intention of marrying anyone, and if my parents try to force me into it, I shall simply run away.”

Miles did his best not to scoff. “That would hardly solve anything. Besides, how would you support yourself?”

“I have been saving money for several years. If the need arises, I shall use that to find a post somewhere. A companion position, I suppose.” Perhaps she saw the doubt on his face, for her brows furrowed.

“No legitimate family will hire a ruined woman.”

“I am not ruined yet. Gossip has a way of trickling off. I simply must wait for a juicier tittle-tattle to occur.”

Miles could not stop incredulity from barreling through him. Perhaps the reaction showed, for Bitt scowled deeply.

He returned her look with a glower of his own. “You hate attending society events, you shun the outdoors and you deny an audience to anyone who is not family because of a mere birthmark. I do not believe for one second that you will become a companion or a governess. Marriage is a position every lady of gentle breeding has been groomed for since birth. Will you really subject your family to great reputational harm rather than marry?”

A dark flush suffused her cheeks, creeping around the large birthmark that covered the right side of her face and coloring the rest of her fair skin an angry scarlet.

She gave him an arch look, completely belying every notion he’d ever entertained about her timidity. “Unless it be for love, I shall never marry. No matter the consequences.”

* * *

“Even at the expense of your family?” Miles asked.

Elizabeth winced. Tearing her gaze from the books, she looked at him. She’d spent all morning in this library, hoping and praying the gossip would die down. And then he appeared, reminding her of the entire predicament.

It was unfair how handsome he looked when she found him so bothersome. His crisp waist jacket lay becomingly over dark breeches that were paired with shiny Hessians. She didn’t know why, but suddenly the lack of his dreadful mustache struck her anew. A little shiver coursed through her at his appearance.

From his full lips to the dimple in his cheek, formerly hidden by the mustache... She shook away the awareness that rippled through her at his changed looks. This was Miles. Childhood nemesis and annoying man who most unfortunately turned out to be her hero last night.

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

He returned her look, unblinking. She patted her hair, certain it must be in place. Jenna had been dressing it for years. Why else did he stare at her so? Was he terribly disappointed in her?

“Since you are here, I feel I must thank you for rescuing me,” she said to fill the silence.

“By all means, do not force your thanks.”

Did she hear mockery in those words? “It is not forced at all. I am sincerely thankful you arrived when you did. Wrottesley was out of line, and I believe he also partook of too much punch. You will see—the gossip will die down, and my family will be fine.”