Page 11 of A Sham Engagement

Papa, ever obedient to Mama, wrapped a commiserating arm around Elenora’s shoulders. “Come over here with me. We mustn’t interfere with your mother’s arrangements. You really will be ruined if this comes out and you’re not engaged to Broxbourne, you know.”

“But he’s a rake, Papa.” Surely he didn’t want her forced into marriage with a rake?

“There, there.” He patted her arm. “Don’t take on so. I’m sure you’ll rub along quite well.” Always one for the easy way out. How typical.

Elenora pressed her lips together. This was terrible. Her very first ball and nothing had gone right. She’d known in her heart that it wouldn’t. When did anything ever go right for her? And now everything and everyone was conspiring against her. Even Lord Broxbourne, who couldn’t be any happier than her at the outcome of this evening’s events. If only she’d sent him away and sewn up her gown herself. Then she could have told them she’d ripped it on a table or chair and no one would have been any the wiser.

“Well?” Mama was saying to Lord Amberley. “Do we have an agreement?”

“He’ll marry her or be damned,” the elderly earl snapped, as though his son had offered up a major objection to his proposed engagement instead of quietly acquiescing.

Jack, who’d gone over to the fire, turned and leaned against the mantelpiece, the flames warming his backside admirably. “I’ve said I will, haven’t I?” Why on earth were all these people treating him as though he hadn’t done the right thing and said he’d marry the girl. Not that he intended for it to get any further than a betrothal. But for now, he could agree to an engagement—one that could be called off in a few months’ time, once everyone had forgotten about this incident.

His father stared at him out of angry, dark eyes that, had Jack but known it, were the exact image of his own. Was that a hint of triumph in them as well? The Old Man had been trying for long enough to get his son and heir married off. Perhaps he thought this way was the best he could hope for and that the daughter of a minor country baronet with a gambling problem was better than an actress or an ageing countess.

“Good, then,” the earl said with a harrumphing snort. “We’ll get the contracts drawn up.”

Oh God. The contracts. Well, he should have been expecting that. And the girl’s mother would no doubt want to boast about having secured an earl’s heir for her daughter. There was no way this engagement was going to be kept quiet. But that still didn’t mean they couldn’t break it after a discreet amount of time, especially as Miss Wetherby, Elenora, didn’t seem at all pleased by it. She’d be as pleased as he was to call it all off at some point, wouldn’t she?

He directed a somewhat hostile stare at her, his male pride more than a little piqued by her confusing attitude. Why on earth was she protesting so loudly about becoming engaged to him? Wasn’t that something most of the Ton’s predatory mamas would have gone out of their way to obtain for their daughters? The sensation that he’d somehow been insulted by her turning up her nose at him arose. Was he really that abhorrent? Every other woman he encountered didn’t seem to think he was.

Lady Routledge, a woman he had long nurtured a strong dislike for, smiled with smug satisfaction. And what did she have against him? He was beginning to feel a bit hemmed in by enemy forces. He’d never allowed himself to betray his dislike for Lady Routledge, so she could have no idea of his feelings. If the nosy old woman hadn’t been passing the library door as Sir Nicholas, his wife, and his own father, had been entering, this whole thing could have been passed over with much less of a kerfuffle. Trust her to be in at his perceived downfall.

However, he smiled back at her with careless grace, as though this was just another normal day for him. Above all things, he had to put on a good show. Though why he’d grabbed Miss Wetherby by her gown in the first place he now had no idea. He nurtured no amorous feelings for her. Did he? She was just an ordinary chit of a girl, too young by far for him, and yet… he couldn’t deny something about her intrigued him. In particular, her extreme disgust at having to become engaged to him. It might be quite fun to play along with this.

He abandoned the fireplace and approached where she was standing with her father. “Miss Wetherby.” He made a flamboyant bow, calculated to impress any lady. Not her. She regarded him out of stony blue eyes that held more than a little annoyance. “Perhaps the first time I asked you, you formed the wrong impression of me, and considered that I was only asking you out of deference to the wishes of our parents. That is not so. I will ask you again, and do it better this time.” He benefitted her with his most engaging smile. “Will you be so kind as to do me the honor of accepting my offer of marriage? This time?” Prettily put. He could do pretty when he had a mind to it.

Her nose wrinkled. Yes, wrinkled. Damn it, but the chit was going to turn him down again. “No thank you, Lord Broxbourne. I would prefer not to.”

“Elenora!” This was a chorus from her mother and Lady Routledge. The girl’s father remained mute. Perhaps he agreed with her.

“Well,” Elenora snapped. “In all honesty, I have no wish to be married at all, if anyone ever took any notice of anything I have to say.”

“Nonsense,” her mother said. “If you don’t agree to this you’ll be ruined and then no one will marry you.”

“Good,” retorted his prospective bride. “That’s exactly what I want.”

Realization began to dawn upon Jack, and with it the germ of an idea. He turned to the other three. “Might I have just a few minutes alone with Miss Wetherby?”

They all regarded him as if he’d asked to take her to his bed for a few minutes.

Sir Nicholas came to his senses first. “I don’t see why not. He’s been alone with her already. What more can he do?”

Lady Wetherby opened her mouth, undoubtedly to point out where he was going wrong here, but Lady Routledge interrupted her. “A splendid idea. Let the two of them come to an understanding. We can wait outside and make sure no one disturbs them.” She held up a gloved finger. “Five minutes. That is all.”

And before anyone could object, she herded Elenora’s parents out of the library.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Jack turned back to Elenora. “Dare I enquire as to why you find marriage to me so distasteful?”

Her eyes widened as though he’d asked a ridiculous question. “Many reasons, not least the fact that I don’t know you. And that I have no intention of marrying anyone.”

He felt a smile trying to twitch the corners of his mouth. “So, I am not repugnant to you, just the thought of marriage to anyone is?”

She nodded. “You are not repugnant at all, I can assure you. Were I a romantic sort of a girl, I might be swayed by your good looks.” She paused. “Even though you are really quite old.”

“Ouch. I’m not as old as all that, you know.”

She raised her light eyebrows. “I suppose you can’t help your age.”