Page 9 of Every Time We Kiss


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“I won’t take your money. I need a wife who will correct my position with the ton. I need an heir to carry on my name, inherit the title and the money I will ensure is plentiful.”

As he walked to the far side of the pergola, she thought about running back to the house and calling a footman to toss him out on the street. But when he turned back toward her, the desperation etched on his face stopped her. She and John had caused his ruination. She had no choice but to help him if she could.

“I have an idea,” she said quickly.

He stopped in front of her and tilted his head. A lock of chestnut hair fell upon his forehead. “Oh?”

“I will find you a bride. A woman wealthy enough to suit you and willing to be your countess.” A woman with a diligent father to watch over his daughter’s husband to ensure he didn’t gamble the money away.

A sharp laugh escaped him. “And how do you propose to do such a thing when I’m not even invited to a simple musicale?”

He made a good point. But she had connections and by pleading his case, she might obtain the coveted invitations for him. She could be quite convincing when necessary.

“Leave that all to me,” she replied softly. “I might be a spinster but I do have my ways.”

A half-smile curved his lips upward. “I have no doubt about that, Jennette. But I don’t trust you.”

Taken aback, she glared up at him. “I beg your pardon?”

“Why would I trust a woman who has never defended me to her friends?”

“I was supposed to defend you when you claimed to have killed my fiancé?”

“Accidentally. You could have at least reiterated that piece of information to them,” he said harshly.

“You know how that would have looked to them.” She looked away so he wouldn’t see the guilt written on her face. He was right. She should have supported him.

“Yes, it would have looked as if you were protecting a friend. God knows there are so few people in this world capable of doing such a thing.”

“You were the one who told me to go back to my life, forget what had happened. Pretend as if nothing happened that day.”

That damned guilt for treating him so poorly washed over her again. There was no possible way he would understand how hard it was for her to pretend she was the eccentric spinster who’d had her heart broken by her betrothed’s untimely death. To pretend she was the harmed party in the situation.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, staring downward.

He walked back and forth across the lawn, looking more like a caged tiger than a man searching for a wife. Suddenly he stopped.

“How exactly would you find me a wife?”

“Well,” she stalled, “I would talk about you at all the social occasions.”

“That would take too long. I need a wife now.”

“All right, then,” Jennette sighed. She had no real ideas about how she could manage this task. “I have a few friends who are getting rather desperate to marry before they are considered permanently on the shelf.”

“Go on,” he urged, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I will speak kindly about you to them. I shall tell them what an honorable man you are.”

He laughed scornfully. “And how will you succeed at that when the most honorable thing I ever did was what stuck me with this damned reputation?”

Jennette frowned. “Surely you have done other honorable things in your lifetime.”

“Such as…?” he asked with one chestnut brow raised.

“You donate to charities?”

He shook his head. “Unless you consider my mistress a charity.”

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