“You could take my coat,” he offered.
What a wretch she was. Any woman in her place would have been overjoyed to be the future Countess of Carnis. Just not her.
“No,” Rhiannon said hastily. “That won’t be necessary. Reginald, the thing that I wish to speak about is…” Her words trailed away as she lost her nerve and then regained it, holding his gaze unflinchingly as she spoke again. “I am in love with another man, and I am very sorry, but I don’t think I can marry you after all.”
“I suspected as much,” he said.
She could not have been more shocked if he had sprung up and danced before her.
“You did?”
He gave her a thin smile. “Lady Heathcote paid me a call.”
She recognized the name at once, recalling the beauty with the bountiful curves who had been throwing herself at Aubrey every chance she’d managed at Wingfield Hall, the one who had been in his lap that horrid day at Villiers House. But why in heaven’s name would the woman pay a call upon Reginald?
“Lady Heathcote?” she repeated, confusion giving way to misgiving as she considered why indeed.
Reginald cleared his throat. “I gather that the viscountess was a…fellow guest at a house party at which you were also a guest.”
She inhaled, shocked. “I…I don’t know what you’re speaking of.”
“Don’t lie to me, if you please.” He took her hand in his, holding it in a firm grip as he gazed into her eyes. “I may be an exceedingly proper man—too proper by the measure of some, perhaps—but I am not a stupid man. Lady Heathcote was adamant that you were in attendance. She said that she saw you unmasked with the Duke of Richford. The two of you were riding bicycles.”
Shock swept over her. Instinctively, she drew the hand that he wasn’t holding over her mouth. Dear heavens, Lady Heathcote must have been spying on them. It had been plain that she had wanted Aubrey for herself. She could have him now. He had made it equally clear that he no longer wanted Rhiannon.
Lady Heathcote’s words returned to her, stinging and vicious.Can you not see Richford wants a woman and not a mere girl?
“Lady Heathcote was concerned that you had perhaps acted with impropriety with the duke, given the nature of the house party and the fact that the two of you were often alone together,” Reginald continued, his expression dour.
“Please, you need not say more,” she begged. “Now you must see why I cannot marry you.”
“Has Richford offered for your hand?” Reginald pressed, unsmiling.
She barked out a bitter laugh. “Of course not.”
“I would like you to know that my offer still stands.”
“How can it? I have just told you that I love another, and you have admitted to me that you are aware that I have been…improper with him.” The words were difficult for her to say.
But she had to say them.
Her brother had often scolded her for being wayward and headstrong, for never considering the consequences of her actions. Well, she was considering them now. She had no other choice but to do so.
“I would be lying if I said that I wish you had not placed yourself in such a position,” Reginald told her solemnly. “And I count myself to be many things, but a liar is not among them. The blame for this, I place solely upon your mother. It has been more than apparent to me that she has allowed you to run wild. I can assure you that as your husband, I will be a model for you. I will be more than happy to give you the guidance you require.”
She stiffened. “I am not sure that I require guidance. I am a grown woman.”
“A grown woman who has made terrible errors in judgment,” Reginald pointed out. “Errors which could prove ruinous in the eyes of society.”
As he said the last, his grip on her hand tightened incrementally.
A new kind of astonishment took over her. “What are you saying, my lord?”
“I am saying that you need a husband, and I am willing to be that man. To be candid, I sincerely doubt any other will have you, knowing what I do about how you have lowered yourself.”
“Lowered myself,” she repeated, tugging at her hand. “I do not like the tone this conversation is taking, my lord. Perhaps it is best for you to go. I am sorry, but I cannot marry you.”
“Of course you can.” His taut smile returned, and for the first time, she saw the hardness and the flinty determination behind it. “Someone needs to take you firmly in hand, and I am pleased to do so. I cannot say I hold you in the same esteem I once did, given your unsavory confirmation of Lady Heathcote’s scurrilous gossip. However, I am being more than magnanimous in willing to accept a soiled bride, perhaps one who will even bring another man’s bastard to the union.”
