*
Mr. Leonard stoodwith his hands clasped behind his back, facing a sash window that overlooked the street. He stayed in that position, without so much as a glance over his shoulder, while Annabel and her stepmother seated themselves. After a few minutes of silently staring at her papa’s back, Annabel cleared her throat loudly, which earned her an angry glance from Mrs. Leonard. She toyed with the ruffles on her pale green dress and thought longingly about returning to her novel and immersing herself in a wild and passionate world so different from her own tedious existence. She wanted nothing more than a peaceful evening of uninterrupted reading.
Finally, Mr. Leonard turned from the window and paced toward his wife and daughter. He stood before them, keeping his hands behind his back as if concealing something.
“I have received an offer for your hand in marriage.”
“What?” Annabel stared at her father.
“Are you not pleased, daughter?”
“I am shocked, Papa! How is it possible? I attended but a handful of balls all Season. I don’t even know why we came to London. I am a merchant’s daughter, not an aristocrat. No one wanted me at their balls.”
Mr. Leonard puffed out his chest. “You are the daughter of the wealthiest merchant in Bristol! Leonard Confectionary is an empire. And there are always those in society who will turn a blind eye to breeding when it comes to money. It doesn’t matter how many balls you attend. You came to London to be seen, and it worked. Some chose to keep you out of their homes, to be sure, but they could not keep you from the parks, the theaters, or the regattas. Those who snubbed you this Season will beg your attendance at their balls next year.”
“Well then, who is this mystery gentleman? And where did he see me?”
“Who indeed!” Mr. Leonard’s face beamed. “Would you believe it if I told you that he is a viscount?”
“Oh, Mr. Leonardi!” Mrs. Leonard sprang from her chair and clapped. “Bravo!”
Annabel cringed. She hated her stepmother’s habit of calling her father Mr. Leonardi whenever he had done something to please her. Gwendolyn Leonard was the daughter of English landed gentry and the furthest thing from an Italian in the world. Papa was English too, but he had Italian heritage. He’d been born and raised in Bristol, as had his father. It was his grandfather who’d first come to England and changed the family name fromLeonardito the more English-soundingLeonard.”
Annabel knew that Mrs. Leonard resented her mama—a beautiful, young, Italian woman who’d worked in Papa’s store and then become the love of his life. And she suspected, her stepmother’s penchant for speaking Italian to him in private had more to do with her mama than her papa. Ambition had led him to marry her stepmother—the daughter of a bankrupted baronet in need of financial rescuing. Now, Annabel suspected that her father was using the same tactic to climb farther up the social ladder.
“Why should a viscount want to marry me? A girl whose family is without a title?”
“For the money, my dear, why else?”
“Oh, Papa! How crass.”
“It’s not crass; it’s business. Our family has money, but we lack the prestige of the titled nobles. And one can only obtain such prestige through birth or marriage.”
“I don’t know of any poor viscounts,” Annabel said. “Are you certain he’s not taking us for fools?”
“We are not the fools, daughter!” His father was a fool who gambled away their family fortune. Whileyourpapa,” he pointed to himself, “was busy working hard to preserve and increase his fortune.”
“Even so, there must be other ladies who are far more eligible than I—daughters of barons or baronets.”
“Yes, my dear, but they ideally wish to marry title and money. And their fathers are not offering what I am.”
“Offering? You are going to pay him to marry me?”
“Why not? Marriage is a business transaction—not a love story from one of your novels.”
Annabel pressed her lips together. She loved her novels, but she refused to be labeled as a silly woman who confused stories with real life.
“I wasn’t thinking of novels, Papa. I was thinking of you. Why did you marry my mama, a poor shopgirl, if not for love?”
Mr. Leonard’s dark brows came together again, but he gave no answer. She knew she’d caught him off guard, but he’d done the same to her.
“I know you loved her,” Annabel persisted. “Stella always talks of how much happier you were then.” Stella was her lady’s maid and childhood nanny. She’d been her mama’s dearest friend and knew everything about Papa, and her mother, in the times before her mama’s death.
Annabel felt her stepmother’s glare before she heard her voice lash the air. “Love is for fools. Your papa is handing you the opportunity to elevate your status in society and your family’s along with it. Think of your sisters. Your marriage into the peerage will make it easier for them to procure better alliances when they come of age. Don’t you want to help secure their futures?”
“I’m not saying that I won’t marry this viscount you’ve chosen; I’m only stating that I refuse to agree to marry a man I’ve never even met,” Annabel said.
“Of course, you won’t marry before you meet.” Mr. Leonard slipped his hands into his pockets and grinned. “As a matter of fact, you will be introduced to him tomorrow at Lady Dawley’s ball.”
