He turned toward Roslynn, imitating a suitably reluctant look. “You might as well forget Warton too. His interest in you was only to throw his mother off the scent.”
“What the devil does that mean?”
“He’s in love with his sister.”
“What?”
“Oh, it’s a well-enough-kept secret,” Anthony assured her. “Reggie certainly doesn’t know, for it’s not something Montieth would want to disillusion her with. After all, she’s quite friendly with all three Wartons. And he wouldn’t have told me if I hadn’t mentioned to him your sudden interest in the fellow. But he came upon them in the woods once, quite an embarrassing moment, I would imagine—”
“Enough!” Roslynn finished off her third brandy and handed him the glass. “You’ve done exactly as I asked, and I thank you. Sir Artemus was the first to appear on my list, so it seems fitting that he should end up being my choice.”
“He’s destitute, my dear.”
“No problem.” She smiled. “I have enough money to plump up his purse again.”
“I don’t think you understand, Roslynn. In the last few years his gambling has become a disease. He’s gone from being one of the most wealthy men in England to having nothing. He’s had to sell off every estate he owned except the one in Kent, and that’s heavily mortgaged.”
“How can you know that?”
“My brother Edward has handled the sales.”
She was frowning, but insisted stubbornly, “It doesn’t matter. In fact, it assures me that he can’t possibly refuse the proposal I’ll put to him.”
“Oh, he’d jump on it, all right. And within a year you’d be just as destitute as he is.”
“You’re forgetting I will have control of my fortune, Anthony.”
“True, but you’re overlooking the simple fact that a man can and does gamble on credit, which is utterly impossible to monitor. And his creditors won’t hesitate to come to you as his legal wife for payment, nor even to take you to court. And the courts, my dear, will hardly favor your contract when it can be proved you married Shadwell with full knowledge of his penchant for excessive gambling. You would be forced to honor his debts whether you want to or not.”
Roslynn paled, eyes wide and incredulous. With so little knowledge of the law herself, she had no reason to doubt Anthony’s predictions. She was forced to believe him. And to think she had once assumed a down-and-out gambler would be a perfect choice for her, never dreaming he could actually be the one man to lead her into penury. She might aswell give her inheritance to Geordie as settle for a gambler.
“They were all so suitable,” she said absently, miserably, before she turned large hazel eyes on Anthony. “Do you ken you’ve left me no one?”
Her woebegone expression struck right to his heart. He was responsible, with his half-truths and fabrications. He had interfered with her life with the most selfish of motives. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to push her toward another man. He just couldn’t do that. And it wasn’t only that he wanted her himself. The thought of another man touching her had the strangest, gut-wrenching effect on him.
No, he couldn’t regret that he had left her with no one, for his relief was too great on that score. But he couldn’t bear her misery either.
In an effort to cheer her, he offered lightly, “Fleming would have you, you know, if only for appearance’ sake.” If he thoughtshewould havehim, however, he’d simply have to kill the fellow. “For your purposes, he’d be ideal, and then I could be assured of having you all to myself.”
If nothing else, he succeeded in sparking her anger again with that observation. “I’d no’ take a mon who’d be loath to touch me. If I have to marry, I’m wanting children out of it.”
“That can be arranged, my dear, most willingly on my part,” he replied softly.
But she was no longer listening to him. “I suppose I could return home and marry a crofter. What difference who I marry now? The thing is to get it done.”
He saw his every effort tumbling down the wayside. “Bloody hell! You can’t—”
She was still lost in the world of her few remainingoptions. “It’s what I should’ve done from the start. At least I’ll know what I’m getting.”
He caught her shoulders, forcing her to hear him. “Confound you, woman, I’m not about to let you throw yourself away on some dirt farmer!” And before Anthony even realized what he was going to say, the words tumbled out. “You’ll marry me!”
Chapter Eighteen
When Roslynn’s laugher died down to a trickle of chuckles, she realized belatedly that her amusement could be nothing short of a gross insult to Anthony. While she had been blinded by tears of humor, he had moved away from her. She located him now, sitting on the bed, casually leaning back on one elbow.
He didn’tlookinsulted. He looked rather bemused, actually. Well, at least her faux pas hadn’t aroused his anger, which she wouldn’t have blamed him for in the least. But it was so ridiculous. Marry him, indeed. London’s most notorious rake? He couldn’t possibly have meant it anyway.
But she felt better for having had a good laugh, considering what she was yet facing. With a lingering smile, she took a few steps closer to him, bending her head at an angle to try to gain his attention.
