His pointed rejoinder was vexing. Mostly because he was right.
“I am sorry to have entangled you in this muddle. I assure you that I had no wish to involve you.” Still ignoring his offer of aid, she struggled to rise to her feet.
The weight of her gown, coupled with her corset, rendered it a most difficult task.
“Your stubborn insistence upon refusing my help is as futile as refusing to accept the inevitability of our marriage.” He caught her elbows in an uncompromising grip and began hauling her to her feet.
When she was standing once more, breathless and wrinkled and flustered, she became aware of the proximity of their bodies. He had yet to release her, and she found herself reluctant to step away. There was something mesmerizing about the Earl of Anglesey.
“You insulted my gown,” she blurted, needing to cling to all her reasons for being angry with him.
Allowing herself to be attracted to him would be most unwise. Even if she ended up having to wed him, after what she had endured with Arthur, she had no wish to ever allow a man power over her of any sort.
Never again.
“There’s a bloody artichoke on it,” Anglesey said then. “And Lord knows what other manner of vegetation is hidden within your flounces. A braver man than I would look.”
“What is wrong with artichokes?” She glanced down at the silk vegetable, which had been sewn in place to ornament the clever draping of her overskirt. “I adore artichokes.”
“One can only suppose,” he drawled.
Elliehadcautioned her the artichoke was a bit excessive. Izzy frowned and glanced back up at the earl, who was still lingering near to her. Stilltouchingher.
“Thank you for helping me. You may leave me to my misery now.”
“I am afraid we are stuck in this misery together, from now on,” he said, looking as grim as he sounded. “I am truly sorry for my callous remarks. I have no excuse save that I never planned to marry, and I have been a known arse since the time I was in leading strings.”
She could believe that, but she refused to reveal the reluctant smile threatening to make its presence known. “I did intend to marry, but you are decidedly not the groom I had in mind.”
His grin returned, and this time, it was more charming than the last. “A fine pair, we are. But do you not see how we can turn this bitter dilemma into an advantage?”
“No,” she said quickly. “I do not.”
But despite her hasty denial, Izzy found herself wondering. What would marriage to this gorgeous man entail? She could scarcely fathom it. Not just because he was so handsome—Arthur had been too, in his own way, and fine looks neither intimidated nor impressed her. But because he was unlike any other gentleman she had ever met. He simply exuded some indefinable quality that made him the center of every chamber he inhabited.
It was no wonder that she had tried to kiss him last night in her embarrassingly inebriated state. He was magnificent. And although she could not recall the specifics of the deed, she knew she had kissed him for more than one reason alone.
“Only think, Izzy,” he said, using her pet name in that intimate way he had that made a shivery feeling trickle through her. “Your heart was broken by Mr. Penhurst, was it not?”
Arthur.
Her heart gave a pang. “I very much do not wish to think of that, if you please. I am tired and still suffering the aftereffects of overindulgence and waking in a strange room to a strange man who has decreed we must marry.”
Anglesey’s hands were still on her elbows, and he drew them down her forearms now with maddening torpor, until their fingers were entwined. “Think not of Mr. Penhurst himself, but of the fires of jealousy you might stoke within him when he finds you married to another.”
Would Arthur be jealous? She could not be certain. The notion held some appeal, she could not lie.
“You are thinking on it now, are you not?” Anglesey asked, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze. “No, do not bother to deny it, Izzy. I can see plainly that you are. Marrying me will blunt some of the gossip and scandal as well. I cannot claim it will be a panacea, but if you wish to keep your family’s name untarnished, you know that you must. I understand from the duchess that you have younger sisters.”
The twins!Flim-flam, she had not thought of the impact her scandal could have upon her younger sisters, Criseyde and Corliss, and their future chances at happiness. Her heart went cold. How selfish she was. How prideful when she had no reason to be after the fool she had made of herself last night.
But that knowledge aside, she could not help but to wonder why a man like him, a dazzlingly beautiful rake with more charm than any one man ought to possess, would so swiftly capitulate to marriage. If an artist would have taken brush to canvas to paint an image titledThe Rakehell, it would have been the Earl of Anglesey, precisely as he looked now. Dressed to perfection, golden hair with one lock falling over his brow, lone dimple, sensual lips, strong jaw, and a look of such intense concentration reserved for her alone.
“Naturally, I must fret over my reputation and the scandal I could bring to my siblings,” she allowed. “However, there is the far more important question of why you would so easily submit yourself to a marriage with me, Lord Anglesey. You seemingly have little reason. Indeed, in these matters, a woman is often found at fault while the gentleman simply carries on. And yet, you took me to your home, adding to the potential scandal we would create. Why?”
The moment she issued the question, realization dawned. She suspected the reason why. It ought to have been apparent to her from the moment the widowed Countess of Anglesey had accosted her at Barlowe House.
“You are in love with your brother’s wife,” she said.
