How could he not consider himself a prize when Rachel had gone to such trouble to win him? He was a baron, for heaven’s sake—a wealthy one—no less.
But he was so much more than that.
And she wasGood Old Bethany.
She inhaled.
Underany othercircumstances she would have been ecstatic at the prospect of marrying him. This compulsory proposal meant the end of any hope she’d ever had for love. It made a mockery of the dreams she’d built in her fantasies.
“Marriage is forever, Chase.” He’d been a friend to her for a very long time. “I know we’re in something of a pinch. But…”
She’d always imagined she would have a choice.
“We’re in more than a pinch.”
Bethany winced. He was right, of course.
“Say yes, and we’ll quiet those wagging tongues this afternoon.” He was so dreadfully apologetic and convincing. But this was Chase! And the eyeballs attached to those wagging tongues hadseen her bottom! “We can make a good go of this. I know it was a trap but I also know it wasn’t you. You aren’t that kind of chit.” He sent her a sideways teasing glance. “If you were in love with me, well, then I’d have reason for concern.”
Bethany stiffened.
If you were in love with me, I’d have reason for concern.Had the floor just shifted beneath her feet? She braced her legs, forcing her knees not to give out on her.
He hadn’t even asked her why she’d come outside. He had no idea how she felt. He didn’t know her at all and …
He must never know.
“It’s good neither of us have to worry about that.” And then she forced herself to laugh at her lie. To her own ears it sounded brittle and half-hearted.
She could do this.Good Old Bethany.
“So it’s settled then?” He grinned, looking more like himself. Charming. Cocksure. Ridiculously handsome.
“I—er—yes.”
Chapter 8
What Comes Next?
“I—er—yes.”
Chase exhaled, feeling a sense of relief for the first time since half thetonwitnessed his lurid assault of his best friend’s sister.
She’d agreed to the remedy.
Marriage.
He braced himself as the word sunk in. He had no choice. Nor did she. Hopefully, it would be enough to assuage Westerley’s need to avenge his sister’s honor.
Hopefully, it would accomplish that and more.
He’d considered himself lucky that the butler had allowed him to see Lady Westerley that morning. And even more so at her reception. She’d had a few censuring words for him, of course. But then she’d seemed slightly remorseful, almost as though it had been Bethany’s fault. When he’d apologized for his indiscretion, the middle-aged widow, a woman he’d always known to be dignified and poised, had blushed.
He’d known the Westerleys almost as long as he’d known their son. He’d respected Westerley’s parents immensely and not only tolerated but, at times, felt protective toward them.
And whereas the lot of them had often teased Tabetha for her harmless flirting, they’d taken Lady Bethany’s quiet steady nature for granted.
Bethany had simply been… there. Almost like a shadow. As she’d grown into a woman, he’d felt a general fondness for her, sometimes joking with her about her odd little obsessions and eccentricities.
