Page 60 of Yielding to Love

“Would you like tea?” he asked. His eyes were worried. “Or a bit of sherry?”

“No.” She cleared her throat. “No, thank you.”

It was quiet for a moment. Then he sat beside her and took her hand. “What is wrong?”

She drew a deep breath. And another. Then she blurted, “Do you still wish to marry me?”

He stared. “You have forbidden me to ask. What is this about?”

“I seem…I seem to find myself in need of a husband.” He dropped her hand. His eyes darkened. She hurried to speak. “Manfred, I have to be honest. I know this is a terrible thing to ask of you—”

“Who was it?” he growled. “Taverston or some blackguard in London?”

“I don’t wish to say.”

“Taverston. I should call him out. He forced himself upon you?”

She started. Then shook her head. “No. No it wasn’t like that.”

“He seduced you. Camellia, I should have warned you. Neville should have warned you. Men like that, scoundrels like that—damn him to hell!”

She couldn’t tell him the truth. “Neville doesn’t know. Please. I don’t want him to know.” Her brother was retreating more and more into gloom. He was more demanding. Nothing pleased him. She couldn’t possibly let Neville know.

“No, of course not. It would kill him. He trusted the rogue.”

“I don’t”—her voice caught—“I have nowhere else to turn.”

“Have you told him?”

She nodded.

“And still, the devil abandoned you. Have you told anyone else?”

She shook her head. She hadn’t even confided in Marianne. She was far too ashamed.

“Ah, don’t fret. I’ll marry you, Camellia. I would be honored to marry you.”

“I don’t have a dowry. You should know that, too. I spent it all on the house.”

“You don’t need a dowry. I don’t care about that.”

She burst into tears. How good he was, and what a selfish, wanton fool she was.

“I’m so sorry,” she managed to say. “I should have said yes to you before. You are so good.”

“It isn’t from goodness.”

“I know you want an heir. Not a…” She couldn’t say the word. “Not another man’s baby. I hope this is a girl, Manfred. And I will give you a son. I-I’ll be a good wife to you.”

“This child must be mine. I will swear it is mine,” Manfred said, pulling a handkerchief from his jacket and pressing it into her hands. “Dry your eyes. Listen to me. My cousin is a black-hearted devil. A worse man, I daresay, even than the major. I won’t list his crimes, but believe me, I’d rather any man’s bastard inherit this estate than my cousin. You must promise me, swear to me, that you will tell no one else.”

“I won’t tell another soul.”

He settled against the back of the couch, expressionless. Surprisingly calm. “This is all very strange. It changes everything.”

She nodded.

“Camellia, the major left when? Was it two months? Roughly two months?”

“Yes.”

“Then I think we had better have the banns read. And marry as soon as possible.”