Page 24

She cast Kingston a glance from beneath her lashes.

What if…?

No. Kingston was right in this.

Of course, he was.

The idea Mrs. Dorrian-Lane proposed was ludicrous.

Absurd. Ridiculous. Comical, even.

But was it truly?

Vanessa needed a husband to protect her from Owen.

Kingston needed money to provide for his brothers and sisters.

Vanessa tilted her chin and addressed The Wicked Widow. “Have any of your arranged matches ever been annulled?”

Kingston swiveled to look at her, his astonishment so complete, it was most endearing. “Vanessa…” he warned in a don’t-say-another-word gravelly tenor.

“Very few, in truth.” Mrs. Dorrian-Lane slowly nodded. “It’s most challenging to acquire an annulment, as I’m sure you are aware, Miss Becket.”

Vanessa tapped her chin as she squinted across the room, her vision focused on nothing in particular. Her mind whirled dizzily as she considered the possibilities, discarding useless conjectures with alacrity until she settled on a suitable scheme.

“Vanessa, you cannot possibly be considering her suggestion.” Aghast, alarm crinkled the corners of Kingston’s eyes.

She wasn’t sure whether to be amused, affronted, or bewildered.

“Don’t you want to marry me, Kingston?”

“I…” Staring at her, he raked a hand through his golden mane. “It’s not that I don’t want to marry you, Vanessa. I don’t want an arranged marriage, a union of conveniencewith you. We’re friends, and I shouldn’t want to ruin that.”

Her heart flipped over at him calling them friends.

They weren’t, of course.

Friends stayed in touch. Corresponded. Spent time together. Were there for one another to assist in the difficult times and celebrate the happy ones.

Kingston had been Gabriel’s most trusted friend but never hers.

“I think we should discuss the advantages and disadvantages for each of us,” Vanessa insisted. Surely she could make him see reason. “A temporary union between us would solve a dire dilemma for me, too.”

“Temporary?” A scowl stitched Kingston’s brow together, and the appalled look he gave her suggested she might’ve just eaten a handful of grubs. Large, slimy, wriggling grubs.

“Yes, temporary. As in short-term. Nonpermanent. Lasting for only a limited period of time then annulled.” She grinned cheekily and swore Mrs. Dorrian-Lane chuckled behind that infuriating veil.

“A temporary union between you and I?” he reiterated, parroting her words as if he couldn’t quite wrap his head around the idea. Or that the suggestion was so absurd that he couldn’t countenance it.

Vanessa experienced a stab of disquiet.

Was the concept of wedding her the cause of his reticence or the suggestion of an annulment? It didn’t matter. She’d been gifted an unexpectedly pleasant solution to a prickly situation, and by George, she meant to seize it.

She must make Kingston see the benefits and advantages of a union between them.

“I advise you to listen to what Miss Becket has to say, Mr. Barclay.” Mrs. Dorrian-Lane set her drink aside and then sailed to the door. “I’ll give you a few moments alone to discuss the situation. Naturally, should you decide to marry, even if the marriage is eventually annulled, I still collect my usual fee,” she announced before sweeping from the room.

Of course, she would.