Page 78 of The Language of Love

Once Ford had settled in a window seat—within earshot—with her stitchery, Henry turned to her.

“What I am about to say will be uncomfortable for you but needs saying. Do you care for Mr. Norburg? Because if you do,” he went on, before she could answer, “this,”—he waved his hand to encompass the two of them— “can be resolved in a way that will allow your betrothal to him to go forward.” He flashed his teeth in a grim smile. “I will personally ensure that. If you wish to marry Norburg, you must let me know right now.”

Annis hesitated, not because she didn’t know what she wanted—she wanted Henry—but because he’d couched the question in the worst possible way.

If she said no, then that begged the question of why she’d allowed Norburg’s courtship to begin with.

If she said yes, then it made her look like the sort of woman who kept two men on a string, as if they were interchangeable.

I was going to marry another man because he is wealthy, even though I’m in love with you.

No, that didn’t sound good, either.

“Do you need more time, Miss Bowman?” His tone was ominous, his eyes hard green stones.

And that was another thing: this Henry—earl Henry—was nothing like clerk Henry, the man she had grown to love.

This Henry was commanding, stern, and terrifying.

His eyes narrowed more the longer she dithered.

“No,” she hastily assured him. “I don’t need more time. I don’t wish to marry Mr. Norburg.” In her peripheral vision, she saw Ford jolt.

“Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife, Miss Bowman?”

Ford jolted again.

Henry looked… irked, not like a suitor, but like a man of business whose meeting had taken an unexpected turn and was exceeding its allotted time. In fact, he looked so cold and detached that he reminded her of Mr. Norburg.

Annis wanted to explain what she had been doing, but her explanation wouldn’t exculpate her.

But Ford’s presence, combined with Henry’s visible—and justifiable—anger, was making Annis’s brain seize like a hinge that had rusted shut. If she tried to explain now, she’d sound like a blithering imbecile and—

Just answer the man and explain later!

“I would be honored to marry you.”

Rather than looking pleased, his lips thinned into a straight line. “Do you want a large wedding?”

She blinked at the unexpected question. “Er, no—not at all.” That, at least, was true.

“Then I think a quick, small ceremony would be best. Would one week suffice?”

Her mind boggled at the thought of becoming this man’s wife in a week’s time, but she nodded when she saw he looked impatient.

“I shall speak to your uncle and let him know what we have decided. If he is amendable, I will come back tomorrow to discuss the marriage contract. Is there anything else?”

Annis hesitated.

You must ask him now, Annis, regardless of Ford’s presence. You can’t agree to marriage without asking about the money.

“Yes?” he prodded, a vee of annoyance forming between his brows.

Her eyes slid to Ford.

Henry was quick to understand. “You there,” he said.

Ford’s head jerked up. “Me, sir?”