Читать книгу Scandal Becomes Her - Shirlee Busbee - Страница 10

Julian had been in hazardous positions before, but none that had left him feeling so silly. He rolled off the young woman on the floor and onto his back, considering and discarding hasty plans to escape with his life—and possibly his dignity intact. Finding himself facing two narrow-eyed gentlemen, the pistol in the younger man’s hand aimed at his heart, he threw any concerns about dignity to the winds and concentrated on saving his life. He did not recognize the two men who stared so menacingly at him, but he did recognize them as belonging to the gentlemanly class. He sighed. He really would throttle Elizabeth when he finally got his hands on her. If she had not taken it into her mind to run away with her dashing captain, none of this would have happened. Julian was fair—it wasn’t his stepsister’s fault that he had been found rolling around on the floor with a young woman who was obviously not the sort to enjoy a stolen kiss, but it was because of Elizabeth that he was here at all. And if he managed to avoid being shot this morning, he had every intention of letting her know in just what a devil of a fix she had landed him.

Gazing at the two men before him, he considered using his knife, but he hesitated. The two men probably had good reason for looking so outraged and lethal and he suspected their attitude was brought on by something more than his, uh, friendly tussle with the wench lying next to him. Despite their looks and the pistols, he sensed that he wasn’t about to be shot—at least not at this moment. So who were they and what was their connection to his companion?

The answer came from the fascinating creature herself. Scrambling awkwardly to her feet, the drag of her left leg very noticeable, she half-stumbled, half-fell into the older man’s arms. A sob broke from her as he clasped her to his bosom. “Oh, Papa!” she cried. “You found me! I so hoped that you would.”

Julian’s lips twisted. Oh, lud! He had certainly plunged himself into a tangle this time. The fetching little baggage was the gentleman’s daughter. His position became even more invidious—even the most indulgent parent would not look kindly upon finding the daughter of the house lolling about on the floor with an unmarried gentleman. He frowned. Any man, for that matter. But what the devil, he wondered with a frown, had she been doing here alone and garbed in nothing more than a nightgown? It appeared that her lack of proper attire was just another mystery connected to the young woman and, of course, he had always been intrigued by mysteries…

The two men forgot about Julian as they reassured themselves that the woman was unhurt. Since they were not paying attention to him, he sat up. The younger man, recalled instantly to his presence, flashed him a glance and said, “Do not move, you black-hearted villain! How dare you lay a hand on my sister!”

Well, that was a relief, Julian thought, he had been a trifle worried that the younger man had been a husband—and husbands, in his opinion, were very unreliable when it came to their wives…especially wives found in the arms of other men.

The younger man stared at him puzzled. “Do I know you?” he asked. “You look familiar to me—have I seen you before? Perhaps in London?”

“He says his name is Weston,” said the young woman, turning in her father’s arms to stare at Julian with troubled eyes.

“Weston!” exclaimed the younger man. “Are you related to Wyndham?”

Julian smiled wryly. “Despite my less than sartorial elegance at the moment and the pressing need for a bath and a barber, I am indeed related to Wyndham. I am Wyndham.”

“Never say so!” exclaimed the older man. He studied Julian’s face and despite Julian’s unshaven cheeks and rumpled clothing and his resemblance more to a dangerous brigand than to the elegant Earl of Wyndham, Sir Edward realized he spoke the truth. “Yes, I recognize you now,” Sir Edward said. “You have been pointed out to me. I have seen you about London.” He looked bewildered, but politeness took over. Putting away his pistol, he motioned for Julian to rise and said stiffly, “I am Sir Edward Anslowe. This is my son, Robert, and my daughter, Miss Eleanor Anslowe.”

Julian rose to his feet and bowed. “My pleasure—although I could have wished to meet you under more pleasant circumstances.”

Frowning, Sir Edward looked from his daughter to Julian. “I do not understand any of this,” he began slowly, “but what in blazes, man, was your reason for snatching my daughter from her very bed last night? Was it some infamous wager you made? I cannot believe that a gentleman of your stature would act so dishonorably and seek simply to ruin her.” Looking even angrier and confused, he demanded, “If you fancied her, why did you not approach me? We are not as wealthy and powerful as your family, but our name is a proud one and my daughter is an heiress in her own right—surely you must have known that I would have approved your courtship.”

Nell gasped and glanced horrified up at her father. “Papa, I have never laid eyes on the man before this morning! And he is not the person who t-t-took me away last night—that vile creature was Tynedale.”

Julian stiffened. “What does Tynedale have to do with this affair?”

“I think a better question,” said Robert, as he put away his pistol, “would be what do you have to do with Nell’s abduction?”

Leaning his hips against the table, Julian crossed his arms over his chest and said, “I had nothing to do with, er, Nell’s abduction. It is an unfortunate set of events that has brought us together.” He glanced at Sir Edward. “My presence here is by accident—my horse bolted during the storm last night and left afoot I remembered this place and sought refuge. I had no idea that anyone else was here.”

Sir Edward cast an uneasy look down at Nell. “If it was Tynedale who snatched you last night, how is it that we found you alone this morning with Lord Wyndham? And in a most compromising position?”

Forgetful for the moment of his own precarious position, Julian watched the volatile emotions that rushed across Miss Anslowe’s face. She shot Julian a burning look. “It is not my fault that you found us in such an awkward situation!”

Julian smiled sunnily at her, thinking that she really was a taking little thing with those fairy features and tumbled tawny hair. Which was just as well, he decided dryly, since he had a very strong notion where this was going. He sighed. He had sworn never to marry again, but fate seemed to have other ideas. At the moment, he didn’t see any honorable way out of the circumstances except marriage. And there was the mention of Tynedale. He was not a stupid man and he had already put together much of what must have happened last night. Tynedale had been the abductor, but the clever wench had escaped from him and found her way to the abandoned toll house. That the young lady was an heiress explained much; Tynedale had planned a runaway marriage. Julian eyed Nell, noting again the high bosom and slender form only partially hidden beneath her thin garment. And if he knew Tynedale, and he did, Tynedale’s interest had not been just in her fortune. She was a fetching armful, and if he could deprive his enemy of her, well, putting his head into the parson’s mousetrap was a small cost to pay.

Nell gritted her teeth at Julian’s smile. Turning her back on his aggravating presence, she spoke to her father and brother. After assuring them that she had escaped from Tynedale with her virtue intact she finished by relating the sequence of events that had brought her to the toll house. “I slept so soundly that I never heard him”—she flashed Julian a dark look—“enter the building. My first indication that anyone else was here with me was when I awoke this morning.”

Sir Edward rubbed his chin, looking unhappily from Julian to Nell. Julian knew what was on his mind.

Sighing, he straightened his shoulders and said, “Sir Edward, I understand your predicament and though none of this is anyone’s fault, except Tynedale’s, I am prepared to do the honorable thing and marry your daughter.”

“Marry you!” Nell hooted, green eyes derisive. “I think not, my lord! Why I don’t even know you.” Her gaze narrowed. “And from what little I have learned of you, I don’t like you—you are the last man in England that I would marry!”

“Er, I’m afraid that you don’t have much choice in the matter,” Sir Edward muttered.

“What do you mean?” she demanded, glancing from one set face to the other.

“Nell,” Robert explained, “you were alone through the night with him. It doesn’t matter that, uh, nothing happened between you. The point is that you were with him in an intimate setting with no chaperon. If it is discovered you will be ruined.”

Nell’s chin went up. “I don’t care! I will not marry him. My reputation is my own and I don’t give a fig what some filthy minded people may think.”

“But I do care,” said Julian silkily. “I do not want it bandied about that I seduce and ruin young women. Nor would I deliberately bring shame and scandal upon my family—even if you would.”

Nell’s fists clenched at her sides. “I would do nothing to dishonor my family—even,” she said between her teeth, “if it meant I had to marry you. But do not forget that no one else knows what happened.” She glanced nervously from one grim male face to the other. “And as long as we do not speak of it, no one need know.”

“What about Tynedale?” Julian taunted. “He’ll know.”

“He knows that I escaped, but he doesn’t know about this place or you!”

Robert and Sir Edward exchanged a glance. “We will see to Tynedale,” Sir Edward said. “While his abduction failed, he must be brought to account.”

“And how,” asked Julian, “will you do that? You cannot bring him before the magistrate—not if you want tonight’s events to remain secret. And if you chose a duel to settle the matter, that act would give rise to speculation as to its cause. Sooner or later the reason for it would come out. And, consider if you will, Tynedale might not be above blackmail.”

“Blackmail, but how?” asked Nell. “Of course he could threaten to tell that he abducted me, but what would be the point? And if he did reveal what happened, he would face rejection and scorn. He would not dare.”

“Can you be so certain?” Julian inquired with a lift of his brow. “He is a desperate man—and vindictive. He might not care about the consequences.”

“Hmmm, you are right, we cannot run the risk that he would not try his hand at extorting money from us,” agreed Sir Edward, nodding. He sighed. “And we would certainly pay to keep him quiet.”

“Oh, this is utter nonsense!” declared Nell. “We could remain here all day and come to no conclusion.” She looked at her father. “Papa, I am very tired. I am chilled to the bone, dirty and hungry. Please, may we just go home and put this dreadful experience behind us?”

The sound of an approaching vehicle caused them all to freeze. They listened intently as the sound of horses’ hooves and the jingle of a harness grew near. A moment later the vehicle slowed and Nell held her breath, half-hidden behind her father. Please, she prayed, let them travel onward.

Her prayer was not answered. A male voice called out, “Hallo, the house! Sir Edward, are you there?”

Sir Edward looked undecided as he glanced at the others. “It is Humphries—he must have recognized my carriage parked outside.”

“Not,” Julian asked in hollow accents, “the Lord Humphries who is married to Lady Humphries?”

A strident female voice was heard. “Of course he is there. Are you blind? That’s his coach, his crest is upon the door and that is his coachman, Travers, as you very well know. I wonder what Sir Edward is doing here? Help me down so that we may investigate.”

Sir Edward cast a look at Julian and smiled grimly. “The very same. And I see by your expression that his lady’s reputation as the greatest gossip in London is known to you.” He sighed. “I am afraid that this changes things, my lord.”

Julian shrugged. “I already offered to marry your daughter, sir. Lady Humphries’s arrival does not affect that.”

“I am not,” Nell hissed, “going to marry you.”

“You don’t have any choice,” Julian replied, an unwarranted feeling of satisfaction building within him.

The next instant, an elegantly attired gentleman and a small, equally splendidly dressed woman entered the room.

“Ah, there you are, my friend,” said Lord Humphries, his kind blue eyes alighting on Sir Edward. He glanced around, a frown puckering his forehead. “Is something wrong?”

Lady Humphries spied Nell and taking in her bedraggled appearance, she smiled brightly. Here was scandal, as sure as she was born. Her birdlike gaze fell upon Julian and her eyes widened. Wyndham! Now this was most interesting, indeed.

Flicking aside the skirts of her russet and fawn traveling gown, she marched up to Nell and questioned, “Why Nell, dear, whatever has happened to you? You look ghastly. And Julian! My boy, what is going on?”

While Nell stared at her in dumb horror, Julian stepped into the breech. “I take exception to your words, Lady Humphries,” Julian murmured, as he bowed and kissed Lady Humphries’s outstretched hand. “You are speaking to my bride-to-be, you know,” adding with the charming smile for which he was famous, “and I will not have you casting aspersions on her undeniable beauty.”

Even against Lady Humphries that smile had its usual effect and she smiled girlishly—despite having celebrated her seventieth birthday the previous month. “Your bride-to-be!” she exclaimed. “Oh, the hearts that will be broken over this announcement.” She looked around. “But tell me, why are you all here?”

Her question paralyzed the Anslowes. But still holding Lady Humphries’s hand, Julian said smoothly, “An accident. The storm, you know. Sir Edward had given me permission to pay my addresses to his daughter and I thought a ride in the countryside to a private little meadow I know of would be an appropriate place to lay my heart before Miss Anslowe.” He smiled conspiratorially at Lady Humphries. “My instincts were correct and having received the answer I longed for, we were on our way back to London when we were overtaken by the storm…a, uh, wheel came off my rig, leaving us stranded, and we were forced to seek shelter here.” He waved an encompassing hand toward the silent Anslowe family. “Fortunately, before there could be any hint of impropriety, knowing we were in an open carriage and that we would be caught unprepared by the storm, Sir Edward and Robert arrived. The storm was at its height and we, er, decided it would be unwise to travel back to London. We spent the night here, together. We were just preparing to leave when you arrived.”

“I see,” murmured Lady Humphries. She knew very well that she was being fed a Banbury story. There was a great deal that was being left unsaid, but short of calling Wyndham a bald-faced liar, she saw no way of learning more. What she did know, however, was fascinating enough. Why, once it was learned, and she would make certain that it was learned, that she had come upon the newly engaged couple under such extraordinary circumstances, she would be the most sought-out person in England this winter. Everyone would want to hear the story from her lips—and she was certainly eager to tell it.

Smiling at the quartet, she murmured, “Well, if there is nothing that we can do for you, we shall be on our way.” She looked arch. “I will look forward to reading your announcement in the Times.”

With all the enthusiasm of a condemned prisoner approaching the gallows, Nell watched Lord and Lady Humphries depart. Her gaze fell upon Julian’s enigmatic features and she grimaced. She was engaged. To him!

As the Humphries’s coach rumbled away, Julian glanced at Sir Edward and said, “I believe the presence of Lord and Lady Humphries settles the matter, sir. As of this moment, your daughter and I are officially engaged—you can be certain that Lady Humphries will be spreading the word amongst the ton. I would suggest that we leave for London immediately—before we have any more visitors. You may leave it to me to insert the notice in the Times.”

Sir Edward concurred, and shortly the four of them were in the Anslowe coach and headed for London. Except for planning the details of the coming nuptials, and it was decided, despite Nell’s objections, that the marriage should take place speedily, there was scant conversation among the quartet—particularly between the newly betrothed couple. As the coach rattled and bumped its way over the rough road, beyond terse replies to any question sent her way, Nell contented herself with glaring at Julian, and Julian passed the time by wondering if he hadn’t gone mad.

After Catherine’s death, he had determined never to marry again and in the intervening years, he had seen nothing to change his mind. And yet here he was contemplating that very act. It was true that it had been thrust upon him and that there had been no other honorable choice, but he was discovering that the notion of marriage to Eleanor Anslowe did not fill him with quite the distaste and resentment he should have felt. He must be mad, indeed, he finally decided. Why else was he viewing this turn of events with such cheerful acceptance?

His cheerfulness fled the instant he was let down from the Anslowe coach and prepared to mount the steps to his townhouse. He paused, staring at the disappearing coach, the events that had been set into motion last night flooding back. His stepmother would be inside, no doubt frantically waiting for news of her daughter. He made a face. Regrettably, he had nothing to tell her about Elizabeth and he was confident that the announcement of his impending wedding was not going to be met with resounding acclamation. Quite the reverse. Lady Wyndham might yearn for him to marry, but it was clear that she already had his bride picked out—a bride who would be biddable and bow to her stepmama-in-law in all things. He doubted that Miss Anslowe would be a young woman who would meet with his stepmother’s approval. He grinned. No, definitely not. Miss Anslowe’s intelligent eyes and sharp tongue made it clear that she was not a meek and malleable creature who could be easily manipulated by his stepmother—or anyone else, for that matter. He shook his head. His domestic life was certainly going to be very, very lively during the coming weeks. Uncertain whether to laugh or curse, he mounted the steps and entered the house.

Julian had expected to be met by a hand-wringing Lady Wyndham and he was astonished that the first person who rushed up to meet him was Elizabeth. The heavy front door had barely shut behind him before Elizabeth, her brown eyes full of anxiety, the skirts of her primrose muslin gown billowing out behind her, catapulted into the grand foyer.

Relief washed over her features as she ran up to him and flung her arms around him. “Oh, Julian!” she breathed, her expression contrite as she hugged him. “I am so sorry, so very sorry, that mother sent you off on such a sleeveless errand! When I returned last night from Ranelagh Gardens—” She stopped at the look on his face. She smiled wryly. “Yes, that is where I went last night instead of the Ellingsons’ ball. It was to Ranelagh Gardens that Captain Carver escorted me, not Gretna Green! Even without a storm in the offing, I knew that we would be late and that Mama would not approve of either the lateness or the place—even if dear Millie was with us, and so I left her a note so she would not worry.” She sighed. “I never dreamed that she would think that I would be so foolish as to run away with Captain Carver or that you would allow her to bully you into coming after me.” She dimpled. “I am flattered that you would do so and I thank you very much for being so kind.” Her eyes danced. “You should have known better, however—as you have told me often enough, I am much too expensive for the likes of a mere captain.” She tried to look demur but failed miserably.

Julian burst out laughing. “Baggage! I spent a most miserable night because of you, but I am glad to see that my estimation of you was correct.”

She grinned at him. Taking his arm and pulling him toward the front salon, she said, “I imagine you are longing for your bed and bath, but come in and tell Mama that all is well. She has been terrified that you will be in a raging temper when you discover that your gallant actions were all for naught.” Glancing up at him, she asked, “Was the weather very bad? And are you very angry with Mama?”

He wasn’t and that startled Julian most of all. He would have assumed that his reaction upon discovering that there had been no reason at all for his journey through the storm—a journey that had led to his subsequent engagement to a young lady who obviously did not like him—would have been one of fury. He discovered instead that he was not at all angry with Lady Wyndham, in fact, he had a notion that he should thank her. And again it occurred to him to wonder if he had gone mad.

Patting Elizabeth’s hand where it lay on his arm he murmured, “Nay, I am not angry with your mother. And, yes, the storm was very bad.”

Elizabeth stopped and stared up at him. “I must say, Julian, that you are taking this rather well. I would be furious to have spent the night riding through a storm, only to have discovered that there was no need for it. I am so glad that Flint caught up with you with mother’s message to return home. I’d hate to think of you still riding madly toward Scotland.” At Julian’s start of surprise, she said, “Surely you didn’t think that we would let you continue on your journey without trying to send word to you that it was no longer necessary? Just as soon as I returned home last night and had calmed Mother, we sent him after you. You had almost three hours head start on him and unless you stopped along the way, we didn’t think he would overtake you until late this morning—if then.” Suddenly realizing that Julian was home, long before he should have been, she frowned. “Flint did find you, didn’t he?”

“Er, no. We can only hope that he will enjoy the Scottish countryside—or did one of you think to give him alternative orders, should his mission not be successful?”

“Of course! I am not a complete ninny. I told him that if he had not managed to catch up with you by this morning that he was to turn around and come home.”

“Leaving me to continue onto Scotland?” he asked dryly.

“What else could we do? There was no reason for two of you to be haring off all the way to Gretna Green. Besides, I knew that if you found no trace of me by morning, that you would know further chase was futile and return home anyway.” She glanced at him, a tentative smile curving her mouth. “So all is well that ends well?”

“From your perspective, yes.”

Elizabeth frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Only that it was a most momentous night for me.” He sighed. He had hoped to put off explanations until later in the day when he was more in command of his senses, but it seemed he could put paid to that plan. And a few more besides, he admitted wryly, thinking of Talcott’s mention of the hunting season. “Come along, let us go find your mother. I have an announcement to make that will affect all of us.”

At Julian’s entrance, Lady Wyndham rose to her feet from the chair in which she had been sitting. Her cheeks pale, one hand pressed against her bosom, she exclaimed, “Oh, I know that you have every right to be furious with me, Julian, but please, please try to understand my feelings last night. I was an utter fool, but I was blinded by a mother’s love for her only child. Surely you can understand?”

“It is all right, Mama, he is not angry with you,” Elizabeth said quickly. Crossing to her mother’s side, she urged her to return to her seat.

Lady Wyndham ignored her and, looking at Julian, said dramatically, “If you wish never to lay eyes on me again, I will not blame you.” She glanced away and bit her lip. “We have no place to go, but if you cannot find it in your heart to forgive me, we shall remove ourselves from your sight this very afternoon.”

“Oh, don’t talk fustian, Diana,” Julian begged. “I am in no mood for you to turn a simple misunderstanding into a playhouse tragedy. I am partly to blame—I should have read the bloody note. I’m sure that I would have put a different interpretation on Elizabeth’s words and would not have gone tearing off into the teeth of a storm. We are both to blame for me spending a deucedly uncomfortable night. I forgive you. I am not angry with you. I understand your emotion. So I beg you, let us put it behind us.”

“T-t-that’s very h-h-handsome of you,” Lady Wyndham stammered. A dazed expression on her face, she sank back down in her chair.

Elizabeth had taken the chair next to her mother. Holding Lady Wyndham’s hand in hers, she asked, “What is it that you wanted to tell us? You said that you had an announcement to make.”

The room suddenly felt stuffy and Julian was aware of a hollow feeling in his chest. Both women were staring expectantly at him and he cravenly considered postponing the moment. To what avail? he asked himself. There was no answer. He cleared his throat. “I am to be married,” he said baldly. “To Eleanor Anslowe. On Wednesday next.”

“What?” shrieked Lady Wyndham, jumping to her feet. “Surely my ears have deceived me? You could not possibly have said that you are going to be married and to-to-to Eleanor Anslowe.”

“Married, Julian? You?” demanded Elizabeth, staring at him big-eyed. “I did not know you were contemplating marriage. And to Miss Anslowe? I didn’t know that you had even met her.”

“Oh, I have met her, all right,” Julian admitted. “And it is true that until, er, very, very recently I had never considered marrying again.” He glanced at Lady Wyndham’s stunned features. He was not fond of lying, but he saw no reason for the ladies of his household to know the whole truth of his decision to marry. In fact, for the success of his marriage and Miss Anslowe’s comfort, he could think of several very good reasons why they should not be told the truth. Yet, they had to be told something. Inspiration struck and he added, “Actually, it was your mother’s idea.”

“My idea?” Lady Wyndham exclaimed, her eyes nearly starting from her head. “Have you gone mad? It is true that I mentioned the possibility of marriage to you, but it was my godchild, Georgette, I put forth as a suitable bride, not a woman who has been on the shelf for years—and a cripple in the bargain.”

“I would not,” Julian said gently, but the expression in his jade green eyes gave Lady Wyndham pause, “refer to my bride-to-be as a ‘cripple’ again. She pleases me and that is all you have to know.”

“Of course,” Elizabeth said quickly. “You must forgive Mama—it is a shock.”

“Yes, yes, a great shock,” repeated Lady Wyndham, following her daughter’s lead. Curiosity rampant in her voice, she asked, “But how did this come about? You have never given a clue to anyone that you were thinking of marriage again.”

Julian had often thought that spying for the Duke of Roxbury had been dangerous. He had frequently been in situations where he had been forced to think on his feet if he wished to escape with his life, but he had never felt so exposed to sudden death as he did during the next half hour. The ladies had numerous questions and he fielded them as best as he was able. He stuck to the premise that he’d taken Lady Wyndham’s words to heart that he should marry. And that at his age, he had not wanted a very young bride. He had met Miss Anslowe several times over the years, he said mendaciously, and had been much struck by her calm, good sense and, er, deportment. When Lady Wyndham protested, he trotted forth the indisputable facts that the Anslowes were an old and respected family and that Miss Anslowe was an heiress.

By the time he escaped the interrogation and fled to his rooms, the worst was behind him. Lady Wyndham was resigned; Elizabeth, who had met Miss Anslowe several times and had liked her, was intrigued and, from the gleam in her eyes, he suspected, suspicious of his glib story. But Lizzie was a good sort and she wasn’t likely to throw a rub his way, he thought, as he sank into a tub of hot water. Besides, his story of meeting up with the Anslowes last night and of the four of them being stranded in the storm together at the abandoned toll house had been a brilliant stroke. It was true that it differed somewhat from the tale he had told the Humphries, but it held together, and he expected that there would be several versions of the story all over London in a matter of days. One more would not hurt anything and the main facts were the same: he and Nell were to be married and he and the Anslowes had been found together in the abandoned toll house.

Of course, Lady Wyndham and Elizabeth had to have an expanded version and he had gone on to explain how impressed he had been by Miss Anslowe’s uncomplaining nature and nobility throughout the night. Lady Wyndham’s words had come back to him and it had suddenly occurred to him that Miss Anslowe would make the perfect bride for him. Before he knew what had happened he had declared himself and been accepted. That story differed slightly as well, but it satisfied the ladies.

Slumped bonelessly in the deep copper tub Julian groaned pleasurably as the heated water gradually worked its magic on his exhausted body. Bliss. Sipping a goblet of warmed wine, tenderly handed him by his butler, Dibble, he decided that he might live after all. And perhaps, after a meal and a few hours of rest, he might be able to flesh out his original story. He shook his head as he recalled the tale he had spun out. Elizabeth might be suspicious, but she had thought it all very romantic and that, he thought with a grin, might be enough to keep her from asking more questions.

Despite the weariness that dragged at him, Julian was pleased with the outcome. He had gotten over the heavy ground as lightly as possible and he had stuck to the truth, or at least, the truth that would be ladled out for public consumption. The facts of his story melded well with what the Humphries had seen. There was going to be gossip and speculation aplenty, but no one could prove that he or the Anslowes were lying. Once he and Miss Anslowe were married no one would dare question the circumstances. His mouth tightened. Not unless they wished to face him on the dueling field. And he was very, very good when it came to duels.

His thoughts strayed to Tynedale. Tynedale must be livid that the heiress had slipped through his fingers. And he would be even more infuriated when he discovered into whose hands she had fallen. Julian smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. Thwarting Tynedale was reason enough to marry Miss Anslowe, but then there was his own unexpected fascination with her. With a jolt, it dawned on him that he would have offered to marry her even without the pleasure of causing Tynedale fury.

He frowned into his wine. He would have to be careful there. He would marry her, but surely, he would not be fool enough to commit the greatest folly of all and fall in love? With his own wife? Nay.