No one expected herworthyof ruination. How grim.
All the voices sounded at once, rushing over each other, some demanding, others outraged.
“Leonora? Are you injured?”
“Good God, Searle, have you lost your bloody mind?”
“Everyone get inside,” Mr. Kirkwood issued the last directive, his tone one which brooked no opposition. “If we linger here, we are only doomed to draw a crowd and that is the last mistake any of us can afford to make.”
Their unexpected audience filtered into the chamber. Mr. Kirkwood closed the door and turned to face them, his expression one of concern as he eyed Leonora. “My lady, are you well?”
She wet her dry lips, acutely aware the Marquess of Searle had yet to remove his hands from her person. He clasped her now instead of massaging, almost in a possessive grip. As if he feared relinquishing her.
It made no sense.
“I am perfectly fine,” she reassured her host and the rest of the assemblage which had gathered to witness her ignominy. Mama gaped at her, her expression a marriage-minded mother’s eerie confluence of delight and concern. “Lord Searle escorted me here because my leg gave out, and I could not walk unaided.”
The instant the falsehood left her lips, she wondered at her reason for uttering it. To save him, she reasoned. To spare him the injustice of being forced to wed her and avoid her ruination. There was no need, after all. Thanks to Mr. Kirkwood’s quick maneuvering, the only people within the chamber were all familiar and trusted to her.
The polite world need never know the Marquess of Searle’s hands had been beneath her skirts. That his hands were still beneath her skirts, even now.
Why had he yet to remove them?
She could not think of a single explanation.
“None of that explains why Searle is making himself familiar with…” At a pointed look from Freddy, Mr. Kirkwood halted, rephrasing his words. “My lord, you have impugned the honor of a guest within my home. A guest who is dear to both myself and my wife. You must answer for this grave injustice.”
“I will be more than happy to make Lady Leonora my wife,” Searle said without hesitation, his voice booming clearly in the shocked silence of the chamber.
Everyone went quiet.
Leonora went still.
And the marquess’s hands remained firm and strong upon her, unrelenting yet gentle. Surely, he did not mean to wed her?
His green gaze never wavered from hers, and what she saw burning in their vibrant depths shocked her. Determination. Solemnity. Promise.
“What if Lady Leonora does not wish to wed you?” Freddy demanded, stealing Leonora’s attention with her outrage.
Freddy was the sister Leonora had never had. There was a question in her gaze, and Leonora knew she must answer it. She also knew she had not an inkling of the manner in which she should. In the end, she pressed her lips together and nodded.
“She may not have a choice, love,” Mr. Kirkwood cautioned, giving Freddy a look of undisguised adoration.
“I am afraid that what Lady Leonora wants is immaterial,” Mama said then, taking command of the chamber with a firm voice that belied the invalid she often was. “My lord, though you are kind to be concerned for my daughter’s welfare, you have nevertheless placed her reputation in great danger. You will wed her as expediently as possible, and you will also remove your hands from her person at once.”
With a wry grin, the marquess extracted his hands at last, and Leonora had to bite her lip to keep from protesting the loss of him.
“My lady,” he said to Leonora alone, speaking quietly, his gaze riveted to her. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
She swallowed. Nothing could have prepared her for this moment. For the Marquess of Searle, heralded hero, most sought after bachelor, more beautiful than she could even comprehend, proposing to marry her. How she wished he were proposing because of a true wish to marry her rather than out of a misplaced sense of duty.
“I will not be your obligation,” she told him firmly. “But I do thank you for the offer. You pay me a great honor.”
He remained where he was, upon his knees, his gaze as intense as ever. “I did not ask you to be my obligation, Lady Leonora, but to become my wife.”
Hope and desire rose within her, warring with pride. From the moment she had taken her curtsy, she had wanted nothing more than to marry and start a family of her own. Perhaps here, at last, was her chance. It was not what she wanted. There was no romance or love between them, but there was something else…something physical and undeniable.
Perhaps it could be enough.
