Page 53 of A Wallflower to Win the Viscount

He stared at her. Had she really just said that? Was she actually making light of something that was so serious?

‘And there’s always the danger that you are with child.’ He had hopefully withdrawn in time, but he was aware that was not always a guarantee.

She looked upwards as if making a calculation. ‘By next week we should know whether you have to face that terrible fate or whether you are free to leave.’

‘Regardless of the outcome, I am going to marry you,’ he said slowly, trying to think of how to explain something which he’d thought she’d have no difficulty grasping. ‘I said I would, and I will. That is the…’ He paused, suspecting it would be undiplomatic to say that it was the penalty he had to pay for giving into his lustful nature. ‘That is the right thing to do.’

‘Why?’

‘Why what?’

‘Why do we have to marry?’

Did he need to repeat the part about her virginity?

Her gaze remained steady as she waited for his answer.

‘Because, as I said, it’s the right thing to do. It’s what’s expected. It’s what propriety demands. It’s what Society demands,’ he said, exasperation welling up inside him.

She gave him a stubborn glare. ‘Do I look like a woman who cares about what Society expects or gives a fig about propriety?’

She waved her arm in a large arc to take in her back garden, which as usual, with its grazing goats, geese and rabbits, resembled a small farm. She did have a point, but this was a lot more serious than choosing to keep a few unusual pets.

‘No, I do not,’ she added before he had a chance to answer, and as if to support her words the goat gave a loud bleat.

‘So you’re adamant? You’re not going to marry me?’

‘I am not going to do what Society demands. I’m not going to do something simply because someone, somewhere, decided it was the right thing to do and we’re all supposed to follow this unknown person’s commands.’

Once again, he was being subjected to the tenacious side of her nature, the one that Beatrice had seen when she’d refused to wear ostrich feathers in her hair when being presented to Queen Victoria, the one that had caused her to go hungry rather than eat meat when she was a child.

If she wouldn’t back down in front of the queen herself, what hope did Lucian have?

She went back to feeding her geese, and Lucian remained standing in the middle of her garden, unsure what more he could say or do to make her change her mind and see reason.

But he had to change her mind. She had to see reason. After what had happened, after what he had done, he could not just walk away from her as if it meant nothing. He had taken her virginity. He would not have done so without that agreement to wed. She must be able to see the ramifications of what they had just done. She might say she did not give a fig about propriety or what Society thought, but he more than most knew how seduced women were regarded. He would not see her subjected to scorn, censure and rejection, all because he couldn’t control himself.

He gritted his teeth, not wanting to point out to her that she would now be subjected to all of Society’s hypocrisy, while he would suffer no stain on his character, even though he was the guilty one.

‘You do realise that now I’ve’—he lowered his voice—‘taken your virginity, no other man will want to marry you? That, too, is one of Society’s unfortunate strictures.’

She shrugged one shoulder. ‘Why should I care? I don’t want to marry any other man.’

Lucian tried not to take any satisfaction in that statement. To consider his own pride in this situation would be beyond decency and would only add to his growing list of moral failings.

Beatrice was determined to find her a husband, and he’d told himself he wanted, more than anything, for Primrose to love and be loved, but selfishly he had now ruined the chances of that ever happening.

He remained in the garden, feeling completely at a loss as to what else he could say to change her mind.

‘But what if I told you I wanted to get married?’ he finally said.

This caused her to stop scattering corn and look at him. ‘Why?’ she asked slowly, her eyes narrowing as if doubting his motives.

He tried to compose his thoughts so he could best get to grips with the moral dilemma he was grappling with, the one he was hardly able to understand himself.

He wanted to marry her, for her sake but, he had to admit, also for his own. If he didn’t do the right thing now, it would only prove conclusively what he’d always feared: that he was exactly like his father. If his father had spied a pretty young woman living alone next door, he would have seen her as ripe for the picking. He would have charmed her, promised her anything, offered her everything she desired, all so he could get what he wanted. Then he would have walked away, proud of himself for deflowering yet another virgin. His father would also have happily made an offer of marriage if that was what it took, with no intention of ever honouring it.

Shame and disgust welled up inside him. He’d done exactly the same thing, hadn’t he? He’d promised a woman marriage so he could take what he wanted. And, worse than that, he’d done it in the very house in which his father had given him that disgusting so-called man-to-man talk.