Mantis ought to have realized this about himself before that moment. Because if he’d found any other woman in the orangery that night, he doubted the outcome would have been the same. Nor would he have been nearly so eager to put an end to his bachelorhood under such circumstances.
Because he wasn’t the sort to randomly take advantage of distraught and innocent ladies.
Just Felicity.
If he didn’t love her, he sure as hell was infatuated with her.
“I’ve listened to your explanation, but I still have questions. Why would a man spread such falsehoods about his own son?”
It was simple, but not something Mantis enjoyed acknowledging. “I have always been a disappointment to him. If not for the bravery of my mother’s maid, he would have tossed me out with the rubbish. I was a feeble and pathetic infant, and every servant at Stonegate Manor knew he’d have preferred me to die. I did not.”
“His disregard for you will affect my daughter… and your children.”
“Something I will mitigate to the best of my abilities.”
Lord Brightley’s gaze remained pinned on Mantis. Lady Brightley had been correct. They were the same startling blue as Felicity’s.
“Crestwood’s opinion might change after he learns you’ve won Lady Felicity’s hand.” The earl suggested. “But if it doesn’t, how do you plan to protect my daughter from his ill will?”
The prospect of garnering his father’s respect caught Mantis unaware, igniting the slightest flicker of hope, and one he just as quickly doused before answering Brightley’s question.
“We’ll associate with them only when necessary—aside from my sister and my younger brother, of course.” Cordelia would welcome Felicity with open arms. “In addition to being heir to the earldom, I’ve Tissinton Towers, my estate near Exeter. Being as Stonegate Manor, the Crestwood Country seat, is in Norfolk, avoiding them shouldn’t be a problem.”
“And when you and my daughter are in London…?”
“I’ll rent a suitable townhouse for as long as necessary.” No way in hell would he expose Felicity to his father’s abuse.
Lord Brightley rubbed his chin, and then apparently coming to some decision, lifted his pen and opened a drawer. “Let’s get this in writing, then.”
Signedcontract tucked safely into his pocket; Mantis followed Lord Brightley out of the study back to where they’d left the ladies a little over an hour before. Mantis had been given permission to make his proposal formally, even though he already had her answer.
There was no reason to argue with her father on this, and, more importantly, Mantis wanted to propose to her properly.
His swagger easy, rubbing his hands together, Brightley entered the room looking considerably more at ease.
Mantis met Felicity’s gaze with a reassuring one of his own.
“Roberta,” Lord Brightly addressed his wife. “Lord Manningham-Tissinton requires a moment alone with our daughter.”
Lady Brightley grinned as she set her knitting aside. “But of course. But of course!”
Mantis thanked them both as they exited and then, most ironically, found himself beset by an attack of nerves.
Ridiculous.
“Do you wish to sit down?” Her voice posed a serious question. Should he sit beside her? Help her to her feet?
“No.” He strode across the room and, for the second time that day, dropped to one knee before her. Only this time, instead of raising her skirts, he took her hands in his.
Meeting her gaze, his confidence wavered. She’d not wanted any man to marry her out of duty. Allowed the opportunity, in time, he would prove to her that his reasons went far beyond the notion of honor.
Marrying her simply felt… right.
“Will you make me the happiest of men? Will you marry me?” It didn’t matter how they had arrived at this place, he would do this properly.
She was blinking and shaking her head side to side. “You don’t have to do this.”
“You don’t want to marry me?”
