But her lips did not touch his skin. Instead, in a voice so low the servants could not hear, she asked, “Will you honor my terms for our marriage?”
Roman jerked upright.
Her huge, almond-shaped eyes beseeched him for the answer she wanted.
Well, she was not going to receive it.
“Until tomorrow,” he said, and left the house.
Chapter 8
He hadn’t agreed.
Leonie almost tore down the street after Roman. She pictured herself grabbing his coat sleeve, jerking him around, and demanding they reach an arrangement.
However, she was very conscience that Yarrow watched. She bit back her disappointment. Later, she would corner Roman. She smiled at the butler.
“Congratulations again, miss. I believe you have made a wise choice,” Yarrow said.
“He is adandy, isn’t he?” was all she would let herself say because to speak what she was truly thinking would shock the butler.
She excused herself with a smile and a nod and went as quickly as properly possible to the side room. She sat at the cherry secretary and penned notes to Willa and Cassandra, both saying,Come now. I need you.
Loyal friends that they were, they did, even though Cassandra had tickets to attend an exhibition with her stepmother and half sisters.
Once they were safely tucked into the sanctuary of Leonie’s bedroom, she announced, “The Earl of Rochdale made an offer and I’ve accepted it.”
Both her friends opened their mouths to exclaim their gladness, and then stopped, puzzled.
“Who is Rochdale?” Willa asked.
“Did you introduce me to him last night?” Cassandra wondered.
“I did,” Leonie answered. To Willa, she said, “He just rose to the title. It is an old and respected one.”
“Oh, yes,him,” Cassandra said. “I sensed there was something between you.”
“You just met him last night?” Willa asked, puzzled. “Isn’t this sudden for a marriage offer?”
“Yes,” Cassandra echoed. “Last night, you weren’t particularly pleased with him.”
“My family knew him in India.” It was a simple explanation, far easier than the complicated ones Leonie had been contemplating while she’d paced the floor waiting for her friends to arrive. It sufficed. Willa and Cassandra were not interested in background. In fact, Cassandra being overly dramatic, immediately began assuming all sorts of romantic notions about Leonie and Rochdale from years ago.
Willa, too, grew equally enthralled with the idea of young lovers reconnected again, and all Leonie had to do was nod and smile. Her friends’ imaginations provided all the details.
When she’d asked them to come over, her thought had been to enlist their help in extricating herself from the marriage offer. She’d been willing to tell them that she’d wanted to arrange an agreement with Roman where he received her dowry and she received the freedom to live her life on her terms.
But now she knew she couldn’t.
Willa and Cassandra yearned to marry. They wouldn’t understandnotwanting a husband. They played the game of scoring points in earnest, whereas Leonie had played it to keep from screaming in boredom.
“Tell us how your earl proposed,” Willa said.
“Yes, we want those details,” Cassandra agreed. “Were you surprised? You must have been. Did he say he had always loved you?”
Leonie couldn’t imagine Roman making such a declaration. She cobbled together a story. “Well, he called on me today”—she left out that she asked for the call—“and barreled over me into accepting his offer.” Yes, that was a good description.
“Tell me about last night,” Willa said. “I didn’t meet him. Were you surprised he was at the ball?”
