Married to the Rogue (Season of Scandal #3) - Mary Lancaster Page 0,8

school.”

“You have a point to make.”

His eyes gleamed. He had extremely profound, intense eyes. A man of fervor and principle. “Oh, I have many points to make, so many that I cannot wait two years to begin.”

“Then what is your solution?” she asked and took a mouthful of coffee.

“Marriage,” he said regretfully. “Since my grandfather is intransigent, marriage is the only way to get my hands on the property now.”

“Then I wish you good fortune.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” A smile flickered across his face. “Because I have a proposal to make.”

She stared at him, unlikely suspicions swirling in her mind. “What kind of proposal?”

“Marriage. A marriage of convenience.”

Something twinged inside her, like an echo of disappointment, of a lost possibility. It came to her that she rather liked this intense, passionate man, who had already shown himself to be dangerously ill-tempered, yet thoughtful and friendly. And funny. That was probably what she liked.

“Do you have a lady in mind?” she asked. Please don’t let it be Lucy. Or should it be Lucy? Would she not rather be Lady Letchworth?

But surely it could not be anyone else when he had taken the trouble to tell her all of this?

“Of course, I do,” he said. “I am trying to be perfectly honest with you, Miss Shelby. Would you please be so good as to consider becoming my wife?”

There seemed to be no sound, no air in the room. As if the world had stopped.

Deborah’s mouth had fallen open in what had to be an entirely unbecoming manner. She closed it again and swallowed, staring at him.

“Me?” she squeaked.

He gave a rather self-deprecating grin. “Why not? I am a gentleman’s son. You are a gentleman’s daughter.”

She frowned. “So is Lucy.”

“Lucy? Your sister? I don’t think Letchworth would forgive me if I married her. Besides, I don’t believe she and I would suit so well.”

She searched his face. “You are not even joking, are you?”

He scowled. “Why would I be joking? Look, I admit I am a bad bargain as a husband. I am obsessive and forgetful, opinionated, and inclined to temper. I don’t always behave well, and I’m not proud of everything in my past. But I can promise to treat you with every respect and never to interfere with your private life, provided you behave with discretion. As shall I.”

Her head was spinning as she grasped the meaning of his words, which seemed to cast blows rather than the reassurance he seemed to intend.

She pushed her cup and saucer away. “I have just been interviewed for the position of wife,” she said flatly.

“I am prepared to be interviewed for the position of husband, although I hope I have given you all the salient facts.” He sat back, his fingers playing with the handle of his empty cup. He might have been nervous. She could not tell. “Except that I would naturally make sure your family is financially secure. The boys may go to whatever school your mother wishes, and she can even employ a real governess.”

Financial security. Even before her father died, that had been a worry in the family. In the last year…well, to have that burden lifted was no small thing. Lucy could marry Sir Edmund or not. Only…

She raised her eyes from his hand to his face. “I am not the wife you seek,” she said bluntly. “I do not care for the company of strangers, and I cannot make small talk. I would be a shockingly bad hostess for your important friends.”

“And yet, you are used to moving among the highest in the land,” he interrupted, snatching her breath away.

“If you refer to my place with the Princess of Wales,” she managed when she could speak, “I rarely had to say anything and merely did as I was asked by Her Highness or her more senior lady. In truth, the princess is of such a lively nature that one need never feel uncomfortable—” Realizing she was babbling, she broke off and swallowed. “Besides, you should know that there was an…incident. By some mistake, four of us were summoned to Her Highness’s residence after she had already left London and spent the night unchaperoned in the house while a somewhat vulgar party went on under the same roof.”

“Orgy,” he murmured.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Orgy is the word being used. Forgive me, because of your sister, the Letchworths asked me to look into your family. I received word yesterday about this…incident. The newspaper called it an orgy.”

She closed her eyes.

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