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Eleanor stared at Simon intently, and Simon understood the forcefulness of her glare. Even though a scandal like this would be bad for his reputation, it wouldn’t impact him as badly as it would Marion, a girl with no family to protect her and no money to recommend her.
Marion was right; she was ruined. Unless he was able to change the story. There was only one thing to do. Eleanor knew it, from the way she was staring at him, even if it hadn’t yet dawned on Marion.
“Marion,” he said softly, reaching for her hand. She took it, her face full of confusion. Behind her, Eleanor grinned broadly, nodding proudly at Simon for doing the honourable thing.
Well, if I have to marry, at least it won’t be to that awful Lady Terrell,Simon thought grimly.At least I like her company.
With this thought in his mind and satisfied with his decision, he turned to his mother, holding Marion’s hand in his own.
“Mother,” he said, squeezing her hand in comfort. “I would like you to meet Miss Marion Laurie, my future Countess of Reading.”
Chapter Five
“Ican’t believe you’re engaged!” Eleanor squealed, jumping into bed beside Marion as they had used to do when they were children. Marion groaned, stuffing her head under her pillow.
“Quieter!” she moaned. “I have a headache!”
“But you’re engaged, Marion!Engaged!”Eleanor pulled the pillow from Marion’s head and Marion winced as a shaft of painful morning light hit her in the eyes.
“Please,” Marion begged, pressing her hands to her face. “I feel dreadful. Do you have a glass of water?”
“I brought you some coffee,” Eleanor said, pulling Marion’s fingers away from her face. “And you can have some if you sit up and talk to me about this!”
Marion glared at her best friend. She had not slept well. Her heart had beat a ferocious rhythm all night, sending her into sweats of panic, her mouth dry from too much wine and the room swirling around her. She had managed to get an hour of sleep before dawn, but it wasn’t enough.
And now Eleanor was jumping on her bed, jostling her and making her head ring painfully and her stomach cramp with nausea. Just thinking about the word “engaged” made her feel even worse, but the lure of a cup of hot coffee was too strong.
“Alright.” She dragged herself up, resting against the headboard gingerly. “I would be grateful for some coffee, thank you.”
Eleanor got up and crossed to the small vanity table where the maid had put the coffee cup and pot. Marion watched her friend in sullen amazement. Eleanor looked perfect this morning, despite the fact Marion knew that Eleanor had drunk more wine than her the night before. Yet Eleanor had been dancing and drinking and socialising at balls since their adolescence. Marion had not realised how far apart they had grown until last night, when she had felt like a complete novice in a situation that Eleanor was completely natural in.
“How do you feel?” Eleanor asked. She handed her the cup of coffee and Marion sipped gratefully, the strong hot liquid fortifying her.
“I feel…foolish,” Marion sighed. “Oh, goodness, what a mess I made!”
“I think you’ve actually come out of it very well, considering,” Eleanor said brightly. “You’reengaged!”
“Will you stop saying that?” Marion groaned.
“But you are!” Eleanor pressed. “Don’t you understand?”
“What I understand is that a kind man saved me from an awkward situation.” Marion gulped some more coffee, hoping that the reviving brew would restore her good humour so she could cope with her best friend’s starry-eyed vision of the night before.
“Well, he certainly did that.” Eleanor laughed, sitting back down on the bed beside her, nestling close like they were children and leaning her head on Marion’s shoulder. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Happy for me?” Marion sighed dully. “Happy that a man felt obliged to proposed marriage to me?”
“No!” Eleanor sat up and glared at her friend. “Why do you insist on behaving as if you are worthless or unattractive?”
“I don’t!” Marion protested, her head hurting with the fervour of their conversation. “It - it is only that I am a pragmatist, Ellie. What do I have that could possibly attract a man like the Earl of Reading?”
“Well, you seemed to be attracting him last night,” Eleanor said frankly, raising her dark eyebrows at Marion.
“Don’t!” Marion groaned, closing her eyes against the memories. She felt a squirm of brutal embarrassment deep in her gut, but also a churning feeling deeper within her when she recalled the way Simon had held her close and stroked her cheek. His manly scent had been so enticing, his face so intent and sincere. She felt herself flushing just at the thought of it.
“I must have made such a fool of myself!” Marion scrunched her face up in humiliation.
“No, I don’t think so,” Eleanor said demurely. “If anything, you just engendered a little moment of scandal.”
