Page 38 of A Rogues & Gentlemen Christmas

“Papa, do you think we might have a few moments alone together, please?”

Ludo looked up in surprise as he realised Miss Bunting had made the request. How brave she was. She was miserable and afraid, but she would not shy away from him. Thank God for that.

Her father looked none too happy about it.

“Mr Bunting,” Ludo said, somewhat testy now. He was the one who’d been trapped, after all. “We shall soon be married, and I promise to act the gentleman. I do have a vague recollection of how to do so.”

Mr Bunting gave him a dark look filled with mistrust, but nodded his agreement and escorted his wife from the room.

Ludo’s heart began pounding again as he turned back to his fiancée. She swallowed hard and Ludo wondered if she might be sick.

“You must hate me,” she said, staring at her feet.

Ludo hesitated, wondering what to say to her. Honesty seemed the best idea, yet he was afraid to say too much, to let her see how badly he wanted this.

“I don’t hate you.”

She looked up at him then, her lovely brown eyes filled with sorrow. “How can you say that? I have ruined your life. I imagine the last thing you ever wanted was a wife, let alone… let alone one like me.”

That last bit was whispered, and she sounded so utterly defeated that his heart ached, but what on earth did she mean?

“One like you?” he repeated.

She got to her feet, her arms crossed around her waist.

“Don’t make me spell it out,” she said, irritated now, which was better than the awful sense that she’d been crushed, but he still did not understand.

“But I’m afraid I must, Miss Bunting. I do not know what you mean.”

“Bunty,” she corrected with an impatient huff before adding, “They call me Buxom Bunty, and that’s the nicest of my nicknames, I assure you. Fat Felicity is another.”

“Who said such a thing to you?” Ludo demanded, hearing the hurt in her voice and wanting to tear limb from limb whatever wretch had made her feel anything less than beautiful.

She gave him an odd look, as if he was being deliberately obtuse.

“Nigh on everybody,” she retorted. “It’s not as if it isn’t true.”

“The devil it is!”

Her eyes widened at his fierce response and he wondered why she looked so surprised by it. Had no one ever defended her?

“There is no need to be polite for the sake of it, my lord. In fact, I should vastly prefer it if there were complete honesty between us. I have no expectation that… that you should give up your….” He could see her struggle for a polite way of framing her words. “Pursuits. I have trapped you into this, though I swear I did not intend to do so. I do not expect you to… to woo me.”

“Yet, I find that I would like to, all the same.”

She gasped, staring up at him with obvious suspicion. “B-But why?”

Ludo dared to move closer to her, encouraged when she didn’t take to her heels, but watched him come to her. To his chagrin, he realised his hand was shaking as he raised it to touch her cheek, the back of his fingers sliding against satin.

“So beautiful,” he said, reverence in his voice.

Her mouth fell open in shock and he could not resist. He lent down and kissed her. She didn’t move so much as a muscle and, when he pulled away, she was still staring at him. He wasn’t certain if it was shock or horror in her eyes, and took a hasty step back.

“May I call on you again tomorrow?”

She nodded, silent, still staring at him.

Ludo looked around as her father returned to the room.