eyes tightly, hating that there was an ache of tears in her throat and behind her eyes.
“Why do you appear so out of sorts?” he demanded gruffly.
“Because I brought scrutiny to our names,” she said, a hitch in her voice.
Anger flared in her father’s eyes. “I know you acted with admirable conduct. It is this blackguard, Rothbury, who had the nerve to enter your chamber and ruin your reputation! I can only imagine what he did, that bloody bas—”
“Philip,” her mother gasped, cutting off whatever improper word her husband was about to say.
“He did nothing, Papa,” Maryann hurriedly said. “This is only a rumor.”
The earl took a steady breath. “The marquess’s actions will not be allowed to go unanswered. I will visit him and demand that he comes up to scratch.”
Alarm scythed through her heart. “Papa!”
“I will not have that…that scoundrel marry my daughter!” her mother cried, staring at her husband in horror.
“Then he will meet me over dueling pistols.”
Maryann almost fainted. “He did not climb into my room, Papa! It is just a baseless rumor. There is no truth in it.”
Relief lit her father’s eyes, and with a sense of shock, she realized he was worried that she had been ravished. The marquess’s reputation was that dastardly. And of course, that was too much of a delicate conversation to have with her.
“He…Lord Rothbury was never in my chamber.” And curse it, she blushed, recalling every provocative and provoking instance of the man actually being in her room last night.
Her father’s eyes sharpened, and her mother appeared ready to swoon.
“Good heavens,” the countess breathed. “This…this man, really…he…I…”
“No, Mama, the rumors you are hearing…they are baseless. He did not steal into my chamber at Lady Peregrine’s house party. I spent most of my time with Ophelia.”
“We should never have sent you,” the countess moaned, her eyes tearing up. She cast a wrathful glance at Crispin, who seemed silenced with shock. “You were to have chaperoned your sister!”
“Even in her bedchamber, Mama?” her brother demanded in a choked whisper. “The marquess is reputed to be a crack shot, but I do not care! I will visit his club tonight and demand—”
“Stop!” Maryann cried. “There will be no duels or talks of duels because Lord Rothbury did not steal into my chamber! I…I started the rumor.”
Dear God. Her entire face flamed once again, and she wanted to slide under the table at her unguarded reaction.
The countess paled and simply stared at her. Her mama had a reputation of being very haughty and concerned with rules and propriety. Regret clutched at Maryann’s throat for the discomfort she was about to cause her family.
Her mother leaned back in her chair, her fork clattering to the table. Silence fell, and Maryann gazed at them miserably. Despite planning to mislead them, she could not hold her silence, not when they were talking of duels and marriage within the same breath. Not when she knew of her brother’s fierce protective instincts when it came to her. Maryann had thought they would have accepted her explanation that it was simply a rumor, but it wasn’t so.
Despite everything, her parents had taught them to always rely and trust in each other. It had been one of the reasons their decision to marry her off without considering her opinion had shredded her heart so much and had seen her crying for several nights before deciding to rescue herself.
“You started the rumor,” her father repeated flatly, lowering his knife and fork.
Her lips trembled, and she bit the inside of her bottom lip to gather her composure. “Yes.”
“But you are blushing. If he did not ravish—” Her mother closed her eyes as if unable to finish the very thought.
Maryann clasped her fingers together on her lap. With admitting her part in her own scandal, hopefully they might send her to their country home in Hertfordshire for the next few months. That way she would have little chance of ever encountering the earl and any courtship on his part. Maryann reminded herself the most important part of her plan was for the rumor to be out in the ton.
“What could have possessed you to conduct yourself in such an odious manner?” her mother demanded sharply.
“I was desperate, Mama.”
“So desperate you invited this man to your chamber? Have you irrevocably lost all sense of who you are and your position within society?”
She almost groaned. “The scandal sheets reported a sighting of Lord Rothbury climbing from someone else’s windows. I…deliberately said within the earshot of a