Then again, hadn’t she occasionally believed gossip that was so ridiculous it couldn’t be true?
Never again, she promised, stabbing her needle into the stocking. Forevermore, she would give lascivious stories the benefit of the doubt—
A knock sounded on the door.
Tweedie had been reading a paper. She removed her spectacles from the end of her nose and looked to the hallway expectantly. Dara placed her darning in the small basket next to where she was sitting.
Herald appeared in the doorway. “Mr. Brogan is here.”
“Ah, good, I have been expecting him. You may send him in.” Tweedie folded her paper and set it aside. She then stood, Dara joining her. “Pinch some color in your cheeks,” she ordered Dara. “You don’t want to be looking so sad.”
Before Dara could obey, Mr. Brogan was in the doorway.
He held his hat in his hand. His immaculately cut bottle-green jacket fit his shoulders to perfection and highlighted the deep auburn of his hair. His boots were highly polished, as if he had not traveled far. She realized with a start that other than in the ballroom, she had never seen him so carefully turned out. He wasn’t one to fuss about his clothing.
Serious gray eyes went straight to meet hers. In that moment, she knew he’d heard the rumors. Her humiliation was complete. Heat rushed to her cheeks.
And then Tweedie spoke. “I’m going to let the two of you have a moment of privacy.” Mr. Brogan reached to help her great-aunt. Tweedie began walking toward the door.
“Privacy? Why?” Dara was confused. Her aunt shouldn’t leave them alone—and then she understood. He had come to offer marriage. That was the reason he was impeccably dressed.
“Oh, no.No.” Dara moved to the other side of the room, holding one finger in the air like a governess as if to dissuade him from doing something regrettable. “This is not necessary.”
Tweedie paused by the door. “It is,” she insisted gently. “But don’t worry. All will be well. You can make a decision after you listen to what he has to say.” With that, she went out the door. Herald followed her down the hall, and Dara was alone with Mr. Brogan.
Who didn’t act like himself. He was too grim.
“Miss Lanscarr, thank you for seeing me.”
“You soundridiculouslyformal.” She paced a few steps, wishing there was a doorway on this side of the room. “And, no, you don’t have to do this. I said that a moment ago, didn’t I? No, no, no.”
Mr. Brogan countered, “Actually, I do. I’m also not going to let you refuse my offer.”
Dara stopped pacing. “You won’t let me reject you? Are you daring me?”
“Not hardly. I know better.” He tossed his hat on the settee as if he needed both gloved hands to gesture. “Miss Lanscarr, I agree we have found ourselves in a ridiculous situation. The gossip has made me angry.”
“Not any more angry than it has made me. But you have power. Speak up,” Dara said. “Tell people that it isn’t what they think.”
“I have tried. However, I’ve discovered that stopping a juicy bone of a story like this, no matter how fantastical and unbelievable, is beyond even my powers. Nor do I believe those spreading the rumors—and they are being spread,diligently—will have a change of heart and admit they were wrong. I’m discovering how vicious the mothers of debutantes can be. We are caught in a wicket that is not of our making.” He took a step toward her. “You and your sisters are being ostracized.”
She flinched on his last word. It was so ugly. “This will go away,” she insisted faintly. “Itwill. Some other scandal will come along and move the attention from us.”
“Can you wait that long?”
There was the crux of the matter. They couldn’t. They had resources for one Season, oneopportunity to create new lives for themselves—unfortunately, both time and money were rapidly running out.
“I cannot stop the rumors,” he said. “I was involved in them. The only solution is to change the substance of them.Marriage, Miss Lanscarr. We marry and you regain your respectability. In turn, so will your sisters.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“I know, and yet among our class, marriage is the antidote to scandal. So, that being said—Miss Lanscarr, would you do me the honor of being my wife?”
For one long second, Dara felt her heart open.
He was asking her to marry him—Michael Brogan, the shining star of Parliament, the most handsome, and challenging, man of her acquaintance. The one she longed for all the way to her soul.Hewas willing to let her be his wife.
Dara yearned to walk into his arms, whose strength she knew from yesterday when he’d gallantly taken her home. She even wanted to bury her face in his chest and burst out in tears.
