CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“I’m going to retch.” Meg paced back and forth in Lucy’s drawing room, her hands pressed to her heated cheeks. Less than a quarter hour had passed. Less than a quarter hour in which Meg had pulled up her gown, Hart had straightened his shirt and retied his cravat, and the entire party had bustled back into the house.
Meg had barely a moment to glance at Hart’s stonelike face before she’d been bundled off into the drawing room, Cassandra Swift’s shawl wrapped around her shoulders. There was no mistaking it. Hart had been furious. Meg was going to cast up her accounts. She was certain of it.
Lucy took a deep breath. “Oh dear, please don’t retch. Because if you retch, I will retch.”
“If you both retch, I’m certain to retch,” Cassandra said. “And I’ve been retching every morning for weeks. I cannot take any more retching.”
“If allthreeof you retch, I cannot promise that Iwon’tretch, even though I am not normally one to retch,” Jane Upton added.
“No one is going to retch!” Sarah entered the room and shut the door behind her. She pressed her fingertips to her temples. “We must think about this logically. There has to be some way to fix this.”
“Whatever do you mean, dear?” Lucy gave her a quizzical look. “Half of my dining room just saw your brother compromising Meg in the gardens. There is no way out of it. A marriage must take place.”
Meg slumped to the settee. “What did Hart say, Sarah?”
“Not much, I’m afraid.”
“He’s angry?” Meg pressed a palm against her quaking belly.
Sarah pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m afraid so.”
“What does he have to be angry about?” Lucy asked.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Jane Upton replied. “Perhaps the fact that you clearly staged the entire scene, given that Delilah yelled it out in so many words.”
“Yes, but I had no idea they’d be locked in an intimate embrace. I’d only hoped,” Lucy replied. “How did you manage that, by the way, Meg? Brilliant!”
“Stop it! I didn’t manage anything. It was entirely innocent until—” Meg’s breathing was unsteady. If she didn’t vomit, she was going to faint. She’d never been a fainter, but now seemed the perfect time to begin.
“I assume you told him you loved him and a passionate embrace was his reply. It seemed perfect to me,” Lucy said.
“I never had a chance to tell him.” Meg swallowed back bile.
“He kissed you for no reason?” Lucy asked, blinking.
Meg pressed her fingers to her temples. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t even remember how or why she and Hart had gone from discussing Sir Winford’s broken leg to pulling off each other’s clothing in the garden, but the moment Delilah’s words echoed through the night air, Hart stiffened and pushed her away.
She’d seen his face, a mask of anger, and knew without a doubt that not only did he believe the entire thing had been planned, he believed she’d planned it. He had to.Thatwas why she was going to retch.
“Lucy, how could you!” Meg stood and advanced upon the duchess. “I told you I didn’t want him forced.”
“Dear, I’m sorry. Truly I am. I should have been a bit more specific with my instructions to Delilah on precisely what to say when she happened upon you both, but you must know my intentions were good. Time is of the essence. The man was about to ask someone else to marry him.”
“Couldn’t you have waited until he had a chance to hear what I was going to say to him?” Meg pleaded.
Lucy turned pink. “Very well. I admit it. I was spying. I simply couldn’t hear what you said. When I saw him take you in his arms and kiss you, I thought it had all gone according to plan, so I sent Delilah.”
“If it was going so well, why didn’t you assume he would ask to marry me?” Meg moaned. “Why did you need Delilah?”
“Extra protection, dear, is never a bad thing. Besides, I know how stubborn the man can be. He clearly cares for you. The scandal part was merely to ensure it went according to plan.”
“Protection I didn’t ask for and don’t want. He’s going to hate me now.” Meg looked at Sarah. “Does he hate me, Sarah? Does he?”
“He didn’t say that.” The worried look on Sarah’s face betrayed the fact that whatever he’d said to his sister, it wasn’t good.
“Lucy, you’ve really done it this time.” Jane Upton shook her head. “You’ve never known when to leave good enough alone.”
