Dowry.
Marriage contract.
Lady Dawn hadn’t wished to fornicate. She was here to find a husband. And found one. And then believed Reuben to be the better catch.
When she’d said to drop by before ten a.m. to beat the competition, she didn’t mean she was squeezing him in for an assignation. She meant, come prepared to make an offer of marriage.
Alsop crossed his arms. “What do you want with her?”
“Nothing,” Reuben gasped.
Lady Dawn hadn’t been playing a role. She was a nubile, virginal wallflower. No doubt from exactly the sort of upstanding, well-connected society family Reuben avoided at all costs.
From her perspective, Reuben—a society gentleman from a famously prominent family—had just compromised the ever-loving kittens out of her. By the rules of polite society, and by her obvious air of I-just-came-from-an-illicit-tryst, her reputation was now ruined.
In order to save her, Reuben was obligated to propose.
Parson’s trap. Leg-shackled. Game over.
“I’d rather die,” he whispered in horror.
“Ugh, I know,” said Mr. Alsop. “The homely wife I could do without. It’s the tract of land I really want. Three generations ago, that family and mine shared an adjoining—”
He launched into a completely unnecessary speech on Welsh property law that Reuben tuned out entirely.
All was not lost. The good news was, no one knew Reuben had compromised Lady Dawn. They’d stopped short of consummation—thank God—which meant his streak of never debauching a virgin was still fully intact. He supposed he ought to at least talk to her and clear up the confusion, but why insert himself further in a situation that was never meant to involve him in the first place?
As a wallflower, Lady Dawn was garnering little to no attention, which meant it was possible no one would notice her flushed cheeks and tangled hair and wrinkled gown and draw the obvious conclusion.
The final piece of good fortune was that she didn’t need Reuben to offer for her. She already had someone who wanted her—or wanted her land, anyway—and would be officially and irrevocably betrothed by ten a.m. tomorrow morning, thereby securing her reputation. Anyone who did happen to recall seeing a few hairs out of place would simply assume the happy couple had anticipated their vows.
The icing on top was that Lady Dawn had explicitly given Alsop permission to marry her. Reuben wasn’t callously abandoning her to her fate. He was letting her seek her destiny with a man who actually wanted to be married. Or was at least willing to visit the parson, in any case.
The disastrous situation was turning out perfectly. Lady Dawn would become Mrs. Alsop, and Reuben could remain a rake until infinity.
And he would never, ever make a mistake like that again.
“Congratulations,” he said the moment Alsop paused his boring monologue to take a breath. Reuben gave him a hearty clap on the shoulder. “Lucky man. You’re doing the right thing.”
Before Alsop could respond, Reuben hurried from the ballroom, allowing no one to waylay him.
That was it. His final appearance in polite society. He would never again risk stumbling into a romantic interlude with some marriage-minded debutante.
Reuben was a bachelor who liked it that way. He would remain single until the day he died. By staying out of polite society’s way, he needn’t fear running across Lady Dawn again. Hell, he didn’t even know her real name. Which would change soon anyway. He made a mental note to avoid the entire Alsop family in the future. The entire ton, while he was at it.
And as for his still uncomfortable breeches after his foiled romantic tryst with Lady Dawn… Well. He would forget her soon enough.
Reuben would make sure of it.
Chapter 4
Gladys sat in the center of a small sofa, squeezed between her mother and sister. The only other piece of furniture of note in the miniature parlor of their rented guest quarters was a single armchair, in which sat Gladys’s father.
She was not at all certain where Mr. Medford was supposed to sit when he arrived, but she supposed they’d sort it out then, along with everything else. Gladys had joyfully informed her family that a proposal would be imminent, but she had not yet shared Reuben Medford’s name. She wanted the unanticipated catch to surprise and delight them, just as it had her.
“You’re sure this mystery caller is coming?” fretted her mother.
“Yes,” Gladys said firmly. “Before ten. We were clear on that point.”
