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Isabel’s mouth fell open, but no sound emerged, so shocked she was.

“And since I’ve seen you this way more than once, then perhaps we should act familiar. You can drop the lord and call me Vane.”

“You cad!” Isabel finally pushed past her lips.

“You seem to have trouble with names. It’s Vane,” he said, unperturbed, then his brows furrowed, and he dashed toward the entrance of the park.

Isabel would have been happy to leave the marquess at this moment, but she had no choice, so she followed him.

They had been walking briskly for a few minutes, and it was getting obvious that Button was nowhere to be found. Isabel stepped in some mud and cursed.

Vane raised his brow. “It should not come as a surprise that you curse too.”

“Oh, would you stop with your righteous attitude? What have I ever done to you to deserve your scorn?” Isabel stopped, forcing the marquess to halt also.

He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off with a wave of her hand. “That was rhetorical. I do not need that answered.”

“If you’re worried about your slippers, you shouldn’t have followed me out,” he said drily.

“I need to speak with you, and lord only knows how long you will be running around looking for your monster of a dog.”

Vane crossed his arms over his chest. “If you need to speak, then speak. And let us part right here.”

“There will be no parting.” Isabel squared her shoulders. “I came here to accept your insult of a proposal.”

Vane didn’t move a muscle. Didn’t react in any way.

“Did you hear what I just said?”

“Yes. Perfectly. But what makes you think that I shall accept your acceptance of my proposal?”

“Pardon me?”

“You’re scandalous, impetuous, and as it turns out, a menace around animals. What is the benefit for me to have you as my wife?”

Isabel was about to turn on her heel and walk away. She contemplated kicking some mud into the overbearing marquess’s eyes as she did so, but she took a breath instead. Her brothers’ future depended on her.

Then she remembered the spoilt little girl in the house. She might seem like an abomination to Isabel, but the marquess seemed to hold her in esteem.

“Because,” she said, with a feigned smile, “the scandal we’ve created shall haunt every female under your care into their debut. That girl in the house shall not have a chance at a respectable marriage. Your title will be a laughingstock, and all respectable matrons will hide their daughters from you. As much as you might dislike me, marrying me shall solve most of your problems.”

The marquess’s brows twitched. Was that a reaction?

“All except for finding the damned dog,” he said.

He looked away, distracted. He was too concerned with searching for his blasted dog and was not paying her any heed.

Isabel inwardly prayed for patience. “Very well,” she said at last. “What if I find the dratted dog for you? Will you marry me then?”

The marquess turned to her, startled. He looked her up and down again with an unflattering gaze, and something of a smirk appeared on his face. “Find the dog first, then we shall talk.”

* * *

“What an arrogant cad!” Isabel muttered to herself as she walked through the park, looking for the massive dog that had nearly killed her. Very well, perhaps she was exaggerating. That dog had been trying to be friendly when it tackled her. Or rather, when he tackled her, she corrected herself, mimicking marquess’s self-important grimace.

As a result, she was walking alone around the park, like a lunatic. She’d been seen in front of a bachelor’s lodgings. She’d probably been observed arguing with Vane. Her already ruined reputation would be in tatters if he didn’t marry her. And she’d better hide out in the remotest of estates or even commit to a nunnery.

And she didn’t even want to marry the righteous marquess! What had she done to deserve such a fate?