Page 44 of A Rogues & Gentlemen Christmas

By late afternoon, Ludo’s rooms had been thoroughly cleaned and aired, fresh sheets put on the bed, and an embarrassing number of empty bottles disposed of. Once the girls had gone, each of them in possession of a generous sum for their troubles, Ludo had headed out to buy a wedding ring. A simple gold band was all he could afford, but his hopes rose exponentially on seeing the ring tucked into its little red box. A new beginning, he promised himself. On the way back, he’d noticed a flower seller, her basket crammed full of Christmas roses. He made the girl’s day by buying the entire basketful. It would be an excellent way of brightening up his less than elegant abode and, besides which, the flowers made him think of Bunty.

Ludo stared down at the large bouquet in his hand and laughed as he walked home. This was his last night as a bachelor. No doubt he ought to be out drinking with his friends and making the most of his freedom. He couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do less. He had caroused and debauched his way through life since he was a very young man, and now that was done. Now he would have a wife, someone to come home to, someone who gave a damn if he came home.

She would give a damn, wouldn’t she?

Bunty was everything good in life. She was kind and brave and clever and… and she would give him a chance. He ran up the steps to the front door and let himself back into his rooms, feeling his heart sink to his boots as he realised no amount of cleaning and tidying would turn them into the kind of place Bunty would expect to live in—like a house in Mayfair.

Oh, God. She would hate him.

“Bunty, darling. I’ve been thinking. We were too hasty. You need not go through with it,” her father said.

Bunty looked around from her sentry position by the front window to see her parents standing side by side.

“What?” she asked, a little irritated to have her attention taken from watching the road.

Lord Courtenay—Ludo — should be here soon. They were to be married at two o’clock. Her father had arranged the special licence and the minister was seated in the back parlour with a cup of tea whilst he awaited the arrival of her bridegroom.

“I did a little investigating about Lord Courtenay at my club yesterday, and the reports are far from good. Worse than we had realised, even. Your mother and I have been talking and… oh, Bunty. My dear child, we cannot help but think that in such circumstances, ruination might be better than marriage to… to such a man.”

Bunty’s eyes grew wide as she realised her father was in earnest.

“But, Father, I should be shunned by polite society. What would I do? Where would I go?”

“We thought perhaps your Great-Aunt Hildebrand,” her mother said, her voice quavering. “She lives very quietly, no one there would know you, or would know about….”

She sobbed and buried her face in her handkerchief.

“You think I would be better served living with an old lady of eighty in the wilds of Cumbria than marrying Lord Courtenay?” Bunty replied, astonished and horrified.

“If it were any other man, my dear.” Her father’s eyes were filled with pity. “But Courtenay… Everyone knows he’s a bastard, for all his father was duped into acknowledging him. He was disowned by his family, and he’s raised hell at every opportunity since. He’ll likely squander your fortune and subject you to heaven alone knows what indignities. He has no money, no prospects. What can you hope to gain by marrying him?”

“But it’s all arranged,” Bunty protested. “You went and got the licence; you agreed the terms with him. You cannot change your mind now.”

“No,” her father said, his voice firm. “But you can, and no one would think less of you for not marrying such a man.”

Bunty stared at her father. She knew everything he’d said was likely true. It was impossible to deny the accusations against Ludo. The scandals were legion, his reputation blacker than pitch. Leopards don’t change their spots, whispered a little voice in her head.

Her breath caught as she heard the front door close and, a moment later, the butler announced him. Bunty’s heart thudded as Ludo appeared in the doorway. Oh, but he was magnificent. His powerful thighs were clad in buff breeches, the embroidered cream waistcoat and dark blue coat exquisitely cut, highlighting his impressive physique. Bunty could not draw a breath at all as he bowed low to them and then moved towards her, smiling with such warmth that she wanted to cry.

“Miss Bunting,” he said, a look in his eyes that was just for her as he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “How lovely you look. I am the most fortunate of men.”

Tears stung her eyes as she realised he was sincere. He truly thought her lovely.

“My lord.” Bunty jumped at the force of her father’s voice. “We have spoken with our daughter, and there has been a change of plan. There is something she would like to say to you.”

Ludo stiffened, looking from her father back to her. Bunty flushed, horrified and uncertain of what to say, until she saw the hurt in his eyes. It was only there for a moment before his expression was wiped clean. He stood tall and did not meet her gaze.

“Of course,” he said, with no inflection in his voice. “I quite understand. There is no need to distress yourself, Miss Bunting. I believe I know what you wish to say.”

He bowed, stiff and formal, and turned away from her.

Panic gripped Bunty at the terrible idea she might lose her chance to know this man better, to know more of the tender soul who had kissed her as if she was everything he’d ever wanted, who had told her she was lovely and actually meant it. She reached out and grasped his arm.

“Wait!”

He stilled utterly, but did not turn back to her.

“Is that it?” she said, hearing her voice trembling. “You’ve nothing to say, no argument to make?”