“You need to do everything possible to convince her. If you happen to feel affection for her, I think that can only be a good thing. But you haven’t much choice. I refuse to allow you to be carted off to Newgate.”
Reed was none too fond of the prospect himself.
“We’ll be fine,” he promised. “Trust me. We’ll be fine.”
The Father
“Bulwark says you went walking this morning,” the duke grumbled without looking up from the Gazette. He sat in his usual spot at the table, cigar smoke curling up from the small dish where it rested while he drank his tea.
“Yes. There’s no one to run into when I go out early. Especially since the Season has yet to begin.” Goldie deliberately kept her eyes focused on her knife as she spread marmalade on a warm piece of toast.
He kissed me!
Mr. Reed Rutherford had kissed her! Lord Standish! If Nia had been at home, Goldie would have gone straight to her. But Nia was gone.
And he’d said he wanted to marry her.
No one else. Just her. Marigold Hathaway! He’d not mentioned that she was too plump or that her hair curled more than was fashionable. And he’d not chided her for being clumsy when she’d nearly tripped over the tree root.
No. He’d said he wanted…
Her.
There must be a catch.
Which was why she’d not accepted his proposal. Well, it was one of the reasons she’d not accepted. The little matter of her father’s disapproval, to put it lightly, was another one. Oh, but her father would kill the new earl if he knew of their conversation in the park this morning.
And that kiss! Trickles of honey flowed around her heart.
Goldie would remember it forever. The way he’d smelled of soap and leather and… just himself. His chest, beneath her fingertips, had felt as firm as the earth. His heartbeat had thumped under her palm, racing nearly as quickly as her own.
Warm heat had spread through her entire body, making her want more.
Would he kiss her again this afternoon?
She exhaled a dreamy sigh.
“What are you mooning about over there?” Her father pinned stormy eyes on her.
“Oh,” Goldie caught herself. “This marmalade is delightful.” And it was. The strawberry flavor danced in her mouth as the butter brought her tastebuds to life.
“You have too great a fondness for sweets.” He raised his brows meaningfully. Derisively. “But I don’t suppose it matters,” he added.
This was nothing new. Her mother had often made similar comments.
Nia never did. Nia had told her that although Goldie’s figure wasn’t fashionable, it was lovely. Gorgeously curvy, she’d said.
Nonetheless, Goldie dropped the toast onto her plate.
“I have an… er… fitting scheduled for this afternoon.”
Her father’s gaze fell on the paper once again as he shook his head. “Damned waste of money, your coming-out.”
“But you promised…” Goldie sat up straight. “And it’ll be worth it—just you wait.”
“Harumph! I could put your dowry to far better use. Not to mention—”
Goldie wouldn’t allow him to finish and abruptly pushed her chair back. “I’m going to write a letter to mother—and to Nia—reminding them that the first ball is in twelve days. And she needs to arrange an evening at Almacks. I can’t exactly make my come-out without a sponsor.”
