Lady Melbourne turned back to the topic at hand. “You’ve yet to tell me how it occurred,” Lady Melbourne pointed out.

Felicity took a sip of her wine. “Well, if you must know, it was all a coincidence. I’m quite lucky not to be betrothed to be Lord Trumbold this morning.”

“Trumbold?” Lady Melbourne’s eyes shone with horror. “That bag of pus?”

Felicity couldn’t help the laugh that issued from her. “Yes. And what an apt description. He managed to isolate me, or so he thought, in one of the rooms away from the ball.”

“My dear,” Lady Melbourne gasped, her hand going to her heart. “How terrible.”

“Yes,” Felicity agreed with no sense of melodrama. For it truly had been terrible. “He was very rude and then, if you must know, I hit him quite hard. He was drunk and collapsed. And there was the Marquess of Talbot, all set to rescue me even when I didn’t need rescuing.”

“But you did,” Lady Melbourne said simply, “and he did and it seems that he will.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Gossips descended upon you last night and he rescued you from them,” Lady Melbourne explained. “And now, it seems he will marry you, rescuing from Lord Trumbold. I think you must teach all your sisters how to defend themselves from old lechers. To think what might have happened!”

“Oh, Father taught us all the art of boxing,” piped Marianne. “Odd, I know, but Father was odd.”

“He used to take his instructor, Timmons, wherever he went,” Gus added. “And well, we all played with the salty fellow. We learned a great deal.”

“Not just boxing, I’ll warrant,” Lady Melbourne said with a hint of skepticism.

“What if he doesn’t come?” asked Felicity.

And as if the good lord had heard her rather pitiful question, a knock reverberated downstairs.

Lady Melbourne cocked her head to the side. “Ten pounds, my dear that’s him.”

“I haven’t got ten pounds,” Felicity said.

Lady Melbourne grinned. “Oh, but you will.”

Chapter 6

William was not entirely certain as to what he had expected, but five young women and Lady Melbourne drinking champagne just before lunch was not it.

He eyed the ladies, wondering what the devil he was supposed to say in the face of such blatant celebration of his downfall.

Lady Felicity had the good graces to blush. Which, he supposed, was something.

He frowned. “Lady Melbourne, might I have a moment alone with Lady Felicity?”

“It all depends, Lord Marksborough,” the dame of society said with an arched brow. “Are you going to marry her?”

The entire room seemed to hold its collective breath and he paused. It was very tempting at this moment to say no, but then he spotted it.

Terror.

Abject terror shone in Lady Felicity’s violet-blue eyes. And he hated it. The fear did surprise him. She’d seemed so bold last night, but apparently total ruination struck horror into her heart. Of course, her ruination would spell disaster for her sisters, too.

At last, he said, “Yes. I will not go back on my offer. I made it in earnest, not wishing to see the young lady in the power of Lord Trumbold. But with the champagne flowing, I now wonder if I haven’t been made a fool.”

Lady Melbourne, whom he had always liked and respected, shook her head. “Such a thing would be impossible. But in all events, though I certainly have encouraged her to have less than perfect means in acquiring a spouse, I can assure you, Lady Felicity is incapable of duplicity. . . To my disappointment, if you must know. Why just last week, she could have had the Duke of Trawlawney if she had just—“

“Lady Melbourne,” hissed Lady Felicity.

“Ah. A touch too much honesty?” Lady Melbourne queried as she lifted her glass. “I did think it wise we make it clear to your soon to be husband that you are not a scheming baggage.”

“Well, I am a trifle scheming,” said Lady Felicity, “But I’m not a liar.”

“Glad to hear it,” he said. “I cannot abide liars.”

“You’d hate our father then,” said Georgiana.

“I know your father,” he said. “I don’t hate him. But he has some very poor points.”

“That is one of the kindest descriptions we’ve heard of him,” Lady Felicity said softly.

“Well if he’s to be my father-in-law, I shan’t go tearing him down any further than he’s already been brought.”

“Thank you,” she replied.

And he found that he quite liked the sounds of her soft voice thanking him. He suddenly felt rather like a chivalrous knight of old, riding to the aid of his lady fair. It was a very strange sensation. He nodded.

“Might we be alone, Lady Melbourne?” his intended asked.

“You might. Come along, ladies,” the older lady said, shooing them like a peacock herding slightly less gaudy birds.

As soon as they’d departed, he stood silent for a long moment, still not entirely certain what to say. Marriage had not been amongst his plans. And he didn’t court young ladies. He seduced enthusiastic widows and such. This was foreign ground.

“Do sit down,” she said.

“I prefer to stand.”

“Do you?” Her adorable nose wrinkled. “I shall get a terrible crick in my neck.”

He laughed. “I can’t allow that to happen.”

So, he crossed the room and, instead of choosing one of the chairs beside the settee, he sat beside her.

Her eyes flared ever so slightly but then she smiled.

That smile did something remarkable to him. All at once, he felt warm and as if all his barriers against the wiles of the opposite sex had fallen. He felt positively good in her presence. Oh, not good as in righteous, but pleasant. As if there was nothing amiss in the entire world.

And he knew that there was much amiss in it.

As he gazed into her violet-blue eyes, he found another feeling slipping over him. Desire. Intense desire.

She was going to be his after all and, immediately, it occurred to him to wonder what her mouth would feel like beneath his. Was she experienced or innocent? Did she look forward to love making? Did it terrify her or was she possibly ignorant of it all together?

“I should like to kiss you,” he said, his voice a gentle growl which surprised him. For the sound made it clear that he was hungry for her.

“Since we are to be wed, that would be permissible. . . But don’t you wish to know me a little?”

He smiled. It was the comment of an innocent which surprised him. “I do. Of course.”

“Then. . .” She licked her lips in nervousness, not suggestion. “Then can we pause?”

“Yes.” He leaned back. “I suppose I should have brought you flowers.”

She laughed. “I think you and I are far from the supposed tos of this life.”

“Do you, by God? My mother won’t like to hear that.”

Her eyes flared and her hand came up to her mouth. “Oh. . . I—“

“That’s quite all right,” he assured. “I love my mother. But she’s a bit too proper. I’m sure we can cure her of it, if we try.”

“I’d like her to like me,” she said with sincerity.

He didn’t say that he found that doubtful. It would take some time for his mother to approve of the young woman who had punched Lord Trumbold and knocked the old fellow unconscious.

Personally, he found her refreshing. He wasn’t entirely pleased to have to sacrifice himself at the altar of matrimony but he wasn’t despondent. After all, if he had to marry someone, she seemed like an entertaining choice at the very least.

He wouldn’t be bored.

“I’m glad that you don’t seem to be angry.”

He crooked a brow. “What would that serve?”

“I don’t know. But you did seem upset when we parted. I thought you might not come today.”

“Ah. Well.” How to explain? “I was shocked a bit. I hadn’t planned on marrying this year, let alone this month. And since we were discovered in such a strange circumstance, a quick marriage would be best, I think.”

Relief eased her entire stature, softening her. “I understand and I agree.”

“Good,” he replied, enjoying the look of her easing her guard. “For future reference, I’m not an angry person by nature. I see little value in it.”

Suddenly she smiled. “I confess to having a temper myself.”

“You were remarkably reserved last evening,” he observed.

“That?” She blinked. “Well, such behavior is to be expected when one’s father is a complete scandal. So, how could I be angry?”

If she wasn’t, then he was. Blazes, was she so accepting of such poor treatment? “The treatment of your father and thusly you, that doesn’t make you angry?”

She shook her head. “He made his bed.”

“But you’re the ones bearing the consequences, are you not?”

“Yes, but that’s also to be expected,” she said with easy factuality. “Life does not just punish the doer of the crime but often anyone near.”

He leaned back seeing her with new eyes. “You’re rather young to be so aware of the vagaries of life.”

“I may be young, but make no mistake, my upbringing has not been that of a typical country miss.”

“Best take care or you’ll put me off,” he teased.

She paled.

Realizing his gaffe, he took her slender hand in his. “I’m not going to abandon you to the likes of Trumbold, Lady Felicity.”

“I suppose the noble thing would be to set you free. . .” She swallowed. “But I find I haven’t the strength for that.”

“God forbid.” He shuddered. “You’d have to either marry that toad or join your father in Venice. Venice is well and good, a marvelous city, but not with your father as your chaperone and you ruined to boot. You’d instantly be in the clutches of another Trumbold. No, my dear. No. I shall save you.”

She was looking at him now. The gaze was not with pleasantness but with an irritated stare.

It struck him then. Mary had advised against mentioning his martyrdom. His sacrifice.