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But was it not saving him, too? At least he was making the decision. He was deciding who, and he was deciding when.
Yes, it might spite his father. But that’s not why Freddie was considering it—or at least it was not the principal reason.
Her gaze jerked up to his. “I—I beg your pardon?” she stuttered.
His thumb tapped on the side of his leg. The more he thought on it, the more he warmed to the idea. “Why do we not marry? You need a husband who’s not after your dowry. I need a wife who’s not of my aunt’s or father’s choosing.”
“You’re talking nonsense,” she said, eyes wide.
“But am I?” he asked. “Your mother trained you to be a nobleman’s wife. There’s no romantic entanglement. As I see it, it’s a solution to both our problems.”
She swallowed, and he could see the doubts and questions swirling across her face.
Lud, they were swirling in his head too. But not so much as to change his course.
“But there will be many ladies in attendance at your aunt’s party. Surely you can find one to your liking—someone of your choosing. Why not wait and see?”
Why was she trying to talk him out of it?
He stood up and moved to the couch next to her. “I’ve thought of every lady that appears in the Peerage in England, Scotland, and Ireland, and discounted every one of them. What do you think I’ve been doing since my father forced his plan on me?”
She blinked at him. “I’m in that book. You must have discounted me as well.”
One side of his mouth quirked up. “Indeed, I did. But that was when I thought of you as Lias’s King Arthur-loving little sister.” His head tilted to the side. “I’m happy to say you’ve improved since our last meeting.”
“I’m surprised you remember that.” She smiled, but it lacked sincerity. “And I’m pleased to hear I’ve improved. But—”
He put up his hand. “Do you have any objections other than the ones you believe I should have?”
She shook her head. “What have I to object to? You are far above anyone who’ll take me.”
He smacked his hand on his leg and stood. “I’ll see the Archbishop of Canterbury and secure a Special License.” He grinned.
She lifted her finger to her lips. “But what of my aunt?”
He waved a hand in the air and paced back and forth. “Leave the details to me. I shall send you word when I have everything secured.” He sucked in a breath. “I’ll ask your father for his permission tomorrow, and he can send word to your aunt. I’m certain she’ll understand.” He stopped pacing and stood in front of her. “But I wish to keep it a secret from everyone else for now.”
She nodded. “I understand.”
He lifted her hand and kissed the back. “I have much to do, so I shall bid you good evening.”
“Good evening, my lord,” she whispered to his back as he strode from the room.
Freddie grinned widely. He could not help but feel as though he’d finally found a solution to his problems. And it was rather fortuitous that it solved Pippy’s difficulties as well.
Five
“For after this manner in the old time the holy women also, who trusted in God, adorned themselves, being in subjection unto their own husbands; even as Sarah obeyed Abraham, calling him lord; whose daughters ye are as long as ye do well, and are not afraid with any amazement.” The vicar closed his book. “If the bride and groom, and the witnesses, will please sign the book.” He nodded over to the sideboard in the parlor of Lord Weymouth’s Duke Street townhouse.
Pippy walked over in a daze. She was married. But it was nothing like what she’d expected. She’d always assumed she’d be married at St. Mungo’s in Bromfield. Not in a parlor, with hardly anyone in attendance.
She signed her name on the paper and waited as Lord Weymouth did the same.
As they stepped away, the few people present came forward to offer their congratulations.
Pippy moved to embrace her father.
He grinned at her. “Well done, dearest. I confess, I’ve worried over your future these last few years. But it seems it was for naught. You had the situation well in hand.” He gave her a distracted kiss on the cheek, then left her in favor of Lord Stanhope.
