Page 55 of Vanquishing the Viscount

Finally, she found her voice. “Thank you, dearest James. It is I who am honored by your proposal. But I need time before I give you my answer.” Time to contact the Bath Chronicle and demand a retraction. Or would that just attract even more attention to herself?

He looked confused, and the light in his eyes dimmed. Already she was hurting him, and she hated herself for it.

“What do you need time for?” he asked. “I thought we had an understanding, you and I. Have I made a complete idiot of myself…again?”

“No, not at all!” she rushed to say. “You’re so very precious to me, but it has all come about so suddenly, like a rock rolling down a hill that lets loose a landslide. I’m quite swept away by your proposal and need to find my feet again.”

“Don’t doubt me, Emma. I’d never hurt you. I’ll cherish you, be entirely faithful, and give you everything you could possibly want. Why do you hesitate? Why waste a minute of the time we could be spending together?”

He’d give her anything she wanted? Would he, perhaps, be prepared to change his plans for Tresham? But with the specter of that announcement in the paper still lurking, now was not the time to ask. She said, “It’s complicated—”

“No,” he interrupted, looking decidedly put out. “It’s simple. I’ve asked you to marry me. You can either accept me or decline my offer. Please don’t play games.”

He hadn’t moved, but his body wasn’t at rest. She could feel the tension emanating from him, though he was doing his best to appear calm. It tore her apart to have to tell him, to risk wounding him, but tell him she must. There could be no secrets between them if their marriage was to be a success.

Her voice shook as she said, “I think, before proceeding, you should know that there’s been some impropriety between myself and Charles Keane.”

He jerked back, shaking his head in disbelief. “Charles! I don’t believe it. You can’t be saying you’ve dallied with Charles? Then why, by all that’s holy, have you encouraged me?”

“No, you don’t understand. I didn’t set out to encourage you, James, it just…happened. You said yourself that you weren’t sure of your feelings until last night.”

Curse it! That wasn’t the right thing to say to him, at all.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said fiercely. “I’ve loved you much longer than you might imagine. But I wasn’t going to declare myself until you gave me hope.”

He loved her?

Dear lord. That only made things worse! Tears stung her eyes as she answered, “But when we first met, you did nothing but criticize me. You hated me, I know you did.”

“Maybe because I so desperately hoped you were better than you appeared to be. Criticism is not always a condemnation. It can signify a desire for change, for improvement. I felt you had it in you to be the very best of women. And ultimately, I was proved right. Or so I thought.”

His last words seared through her, like a knife to the heart. She must be wounding him badly for him to lash out in such a way. They’d argued before, but this was far worse, much bloodier, much deeper.

“I’m sorry. I know I’ve made silly mistakes in the past, but it’s too cruel of you to bring them up now. I’ve tried to be a more trusting person. I’ve tried to be less judgmental, I really have. It’s hard.”

It was becoming more difficult to breathe. If she couldn’t control herself, she’d be sobbing her heart out in no time.

“You’re right. Forgive me.” He dragged a hand across his eyes and got to his feet.

She did the same, her pulse racing. “I don’t want to hurt you, dearest James, I really don’t. But have you considered all the difficulties we might encounter? How can a future earl stoop so low as to offer himself to a former governess? It would be as scandalous as a duke marrying his housekeeper. You’d be snubbed by Society. I don’t want that for you. You need the approval of the ton for your charity, and you need to uphold the great name of the noble house of Rossbury.”

She needed to be sure of his love. She needed his reassurance that he was well aware of the sacrifices he’d be making if he married her. He was too important a man to retire in obscurity to his country estates and bleed out his years with no one but a wife and children to keep him company. Besides which, any children they had would bear the taint of the scandalous match he’d made. In time, he’d come to resent her.

Which would be unbearable.

He just stood there, looking at her as if she’d plunged a dagger into his heart. And twisted it.

“If I don’t care about those things,” he said, “you shouldn’t, either.” His eyes narrowed. “Tell me more about what happened between you and Charles.”

The words stuck in her throat, so she just went to the chair cushion, removed the folded newspaper, and put it in his hands.

She watched the color drain from his face as he read the words, then read them again. He frowned at her. “Is this true?” he asked, jabbing a finger at the word announcement in the paper.

“No! Of course not.”

He scanned the address on the wrapping. “This is Charles’s writing. Why did he send it to you?”

She hadn’t even thought to look at the handwriting. Her mouth dropped open in astonishment. “I…I’ve no idea. I have never had any intention of marrying him, nor have I ever wanted to. He’s joked about it, yes, but you know what he’s like. Let me speak to him. I’m sure I can get him to make the paper retract the piece.”