The silence between them was pregnant with unspoken words. Lucy held her breath.
“Secondly, Miss Bell.” He gave her a veiled look. “Itbehovesme to discuss the inappropriate situationin which we found ourselves a few days back.”
Lucy’s head snapped up. Finally, he wanted to talk about why he paraded about as Henry.
“Neither of us could’ve helped it. Storm, force of nature and all that. You owe me an explanation. Are you going to tell me why you’re leading a double life as a gardener?”
“No, I am not,” he bit out. “Let me assure you, I didn’t intend to deceive you. It was an unfortunate circumstance in which we both found ourselves through no choice of ours.” He paced up and down.
“Good. So we agree.”
“Be that as may, the situation was inappropriate, and you’ve beenthoroughly compromised. Intentional or not, it is unforgivable to incriminate a lady’s reputation, and it is my duty to rectify that.” He stopped pacing and stood behind a chair. “Therefore—”
“But we’ve already thrashed this out if you recall. Nothing happened. No one knows. If you’re apologising, it is quitegentlemanly of you to do so, though I can’t for the life of me think of a reason whyyou ought to be responsible for the storm, or me jumping into the river to save the puppy, or the night at the shed—”
He closed his eyes, as if that memory pained him. Lucy felt a pang, because she cherished that memory.
“As I was saying—” he started.
“If we’re to conclude you are not to blame, and neither am I, then there is nothing to be done about it. It was, as you say, just unfortunate. But it won’t harm my reputation.” Because she had none. She’d explained that, hadn’t she?
“If you’d stop interrupting me, I could get to the point.”
“Anyhow, how do you want to rectify this? Didn’t you pay off the farmer?”
He thrummed his fingers on the top rail of an armchair.
“Lucy. I am trying to propose marriage to you. If you stop interrupting me.”
“What?” Lucy forgot to close her mouth.
“I intend to announce our engagement at the ball on Saturday.” He stopped the thrumming and gripped the chair instead.
“But – now you’ve really lost your marbles. Everyone says you want to marry Lady Louisa because she is so perfect!”
“That was the plan. However, given what has happened, considering the circumstances, this is beside the point.”
“But. Why?” She couldn’t figure him out. One moment he threatened to send her packing, then he proposed marriage.
“As I have tried to explain, I am duty and honour-bound to rectify a highly incriminating situation that has compromised a lady of my sister’s long-standing acquaintance.” He couldn’t have said that in a less pompous or stiff manner. Clearly, he didn’t want to marry her in the least.
Lucy bristled. “But otherwise, I wouldn’t be suitable, would I? I mean, Lady Louisa would be eminently suitable, wouldn’t she? She’s the breeding, the appearance, the ladylike behaviour, the language. She never falls into any rivers to rescue puppies, for one.”
This was his cue to smile at the memory of that incident, but he kept up his forbidding look.
“No, Lady Louisa would never fall into any bodies of water. It is true you don’t know how to behave in polite society. You are rash and you blurt out what you think, which is usually inappropriate given the situation. I never know what you’ll do next. But this really is beside the point.” Wrong reply. He was supposed to deny her claims, even out of politeness, not agree with her.
Lucy gritted her teeth. “Nonetheless,you are proposing marriage. In a rather cross, disagreeable kind of way. Because it’s your obligation to fix a situation in which you have compromised a lady. Because it’s your honour-bound duty.”
He inclined his head at the word “duty”.
“Had we met under normal circumstances, let’s say, in a ballroom in London, you’d never have proposed to me. In fact, you’d never have even talked to me. At most, you’d have acknowledged me with a ducal nod from the distance because I’m Arabella’s friend—the one who tried to drown her—so probably you’d have given me a marvellous cut to begin with.”
There was a charged pause as he hesitated.
Lucy took a big breath and made a small curtsy. “I’m honoured by your dutiful but grumpy proposal, but I regret I must decline it. So now you can take a breath of relief and marry Lady Louisa, the perfect duchess.”
He passed a hand over his eyes as if the discussion wearied him. “Do I really have to spell it out for you? Once the farmer’s wife realises who I am, which she will, in due time, she’ll not keep that delicious piece of information to herself. The Duke of Ashmore has spent an entire night in her shed – together with a girl, whom he introduced as his wife. This gossip will gallop faster than Wellington’s hussars over the battlefield. Can’t you see the scandal brewing? Before long, it’ll explode in our faces. You really have no choice, Lucy.”
