“Good. Now, the rest of the rules are just as simple, you may not inquire about my business, activities, or any of my past relationships, and I will return the courtesy, although I believe such a list is either not long or nonexistent.”
“Well, thank you for the courtesy,” Bridget muttered wryly. “And it is the latter, if you must know.”
“We will dine together and for your comfort, we will sleep in separate chambers throughout our stay together. You will have your own maid, spending money, carriage what-have-you to purchase whatever frippery you ladies fawn over and so on.”
“Please stop forging on.,” she murmured. “I said I wasconsideringit.”
“Either way, this is where I stand,” William spun them in a series of dizzying turns and at the end, she was almost resting on his chest. He took advantage of her close proximity. “I am going to leave the ballroom in a few minutes. Follow me to the second floor. The third door on the right. We shall talk further on it.”
Her eyes flitted between his. “I do not think that is wise.”
“No, it’s not,” he agreed. “But I hope you will consider it anyhow.”
The dance came to a close, but he pulled her closer than socially acceptable and searched her eyes. When he found what he was looking for, he extended his arm and took her to the sidelines, ignoring the clusters of ladies and gentlemen who cast speculative glances in his direction.
The nosy bodies of the ton were already wondering at their connection, and just as he offered to get drinks for them— his uncle came around the corner with two women behind him; one, a tall slender shrew who looked like everyone near her smelled of fish, and the younger one, lovely and polished.
Lady Cassandra.
He already knew she was the one he was to court.
No. Not now.
The Earl of Cranshaw’s brows inched up at seeing him with Bridget, while Bridget went as still as stone on his arm. With a quick glance, he found her face was white as ash as she looked on at the women.
“You?” Lady Ruth gaped. “What are you doing here,girl?”
Anger swelled inside William, but he held his composure. “I would appreciate it if you would address my fiancée with proper manners, my lady.”
A round of horrified gasps rang through the room, and absently, he heard a glass shatter at someone’s feet.
“You cannot be serious, Your Grace!” Lady Ruthless gasped. “She is a penniless wretch masquerading as a lady. For heaven’s sake, she works as a seamstress and carries the stench of shop with her. You are marrying the help!”
William’s gaze was icy, as was his tone. “Throwing stones in your glass castle, madam? Need I remind you; your first love was a stableboy, and your second affair was with a merchant’s son? Lady Bridget is the daughter of a Viscount and her blood runs as blue as yours. I, however, cannot say the same for your genteel daughter.”
“Excuse me, Your Grace!” The lady’s face was purpling. “What are you implying?”
“I’ll repeat if you need clarification,” William said calmly.
“William!” His uncle’s cutting tone stopped him, and the older man canted his head. “Will you introduce me?”
“Come on, my dear,” the lady muttered, tightly grabbing her daughter’s hand and heaving her away. “We are needed elsewhere.”
“Uncle, this is Lady Bridget Wycliff. My lady, this is the Earl of Cranshaw, my late father’s only brother.”
“Pleased to meet you, your lordship,” Bridget said quietly.
Unaffected by the sudden burst of whispers around the room, William found Hansen staring at him, his face a rigor of fury and mortification. He then spun on his heel and stalked out.
In a single, shocking moment, several facts crashed into Bridget’s awareness. She had been unofficially declared wed to the devil duke, even though she had not fully agreed. The truth of her situation was now out in the ton and Lord Hansen looked struck over the head.
The blows felt like bullets and each one had hit a different part of her, her heart, her mind, and her gut. Embarrassment turned Bridget’s stomach as speculation rang through the throng of guests.
Through the cotton in her ears, she heard William apologize to his uncle. “We need to speak to a certain lord, uncle,” he finished smoothly. “Please excuse us.”
“I will be waiting in the billiards room,” the Earl muttered beneath his breath. “We must have a frank discussion, nephew, not the least of which of how you humiliated Lady Ruth just now.”
“I detest hypocrites,” William declared flatly. “An eye for an eye, and all that.”
