Now safely ensconcedin a small antechamber off the main ballroom, Courtney allowed herself a moment of weakness. She pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the window, grateful for the momentary relief it provided against her flushed skin.
“At least he realizes he’s created a terrible scandal,” she whispered, her breath fogging the glass. “What’s worse, even if Rockwell does the right thing and Lucien is free to marry, who will believe he’s marrying me for love? They will think he loves Farah and marries me merely for my money.”
Did she care what thetonthought? If Lucien had said he loved her, that would be enough. But he hadn’t said any such thing.
Behind her, the door clicked open. She straightened immediately, schooling her features into a mask of indifference. When she turned, however, her composure faltered at the sight of Lucien standing in the doorway, his face ashen.
“Courtney,” he said, his voice rough. “I need to apologize.”
“I think what you did was wonderful. You were protecting our friend. But I hope you are right, and Rockwell comes to his senses. But was this part of your plan? If so, it’s going to cause a huge scandal.”
Lucien knelt at her feet and took her hand in his. “I’m sorry to make you the subject of more gossip.”
“At least the focus will be on Rockwell and Farah, and it might give us a chance to learn more about us.”
“Rockwell will marry her,” he insisted, as if talking to himself. “Once he realizes he might lose her to me, he’ll come to his senses. This is just… a temporary measure.”
“Farah won’t marry you, Lucien. She knows that would hurt me and Farah is too nice to do that. You seem so sure Rockwell will marry Farah, but my fear is she won’t marry either of you. And if not, she’s ruined. I’m not sure I can live with that on my conscience.”
“What are you saying?”
“I might have to convince her to marry one of you. I won’t see my friend ruined for something that is not her fault.”
Lucien’s jaw tightened. “Are you saying that if Farah declines Rockwell, you’ll expect me to honor my word?”
“Yes.” A tear slid down her face.
“Is this because of Mr. Fancot? You would prefer him?”
Before she could respond, the door opened again, and Tarquin entered, his expression thunderous.
“There you are,” he said, his gaze locking on Lucien. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you both. We need to discuss what happened before the gossips tear my sister’s reputation to shreds.”
Lucien straightened, facing Tarquin with admirable composure. “I was just explaining the situation to Lady Courtney.”
“Were you?” Tarquin’s voice dripped with skepticism. “And what situation might that be? The one where you publicly announce your engagement to Lady Farah mere days after returning to London and reconnecting with my sister—your former fiancée?”
“It’s not what it seems,” Lucien began, but Tarquin cut him off with a sharp gesture.
“Save it. Wolf has informed me of the…circumstances surrounding Lady Farah’s trip to Ireland. While I commend yourgallantry in protecting her reputation, I can’t help but wonder if there might have been a less damaging solution. Or did you have an ulterior motive?”
“Such as?” Lucien challenged, his posture stiffening.
“Such as actually marrying Farah rather than allowing Lord Ware to do the honorable thing and offer for her himself,” Tarquin replied smoothly. “After all, he was the one who compromised her in the first place, however accidentally.”
Courtney could see where this conversation was heading—a challenge. She wanted to defuse the tension between these men. “What’s done is done,” she continued. “Lord Furoe acted to protect Farah, and I can’t fault him for that. Now we must decide how to proceed from here with minimal damage to all parties.”
“You’re being remarkably understanding,” Tarquin observed, his brow furrowed.
“What am I supposed to do? Cause a scene? That would certainly give the gossips something to talk about. Besides, Lucien had already told me of a promise he’d made to protect Farah’s reputation. He is a man of honor. Would you prefer I collapse into hysterics?” she countered, arching an eyebrow.
A reluctant smile tugged at the corner of Tarquin’s mouth. “No, I suppose not.”
“Good. Then let us be practical.” She turned to Lucien. “You believe Rockwell will come to his senses and offer for Farah, thus rendering your engagement unnecessary?”
Lucien nodded, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “He’s stubborn, but he’s not stupid. He loves her—he’s just afraid.”
“Afraid of what?” Tarquin asked.
