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Surely a man who cared for his daughter as much as this man clearly cared for Miss Dinah would not turn his back on her so completely. But after he died? What would become of her then?
“Lady Blackmore,” Mr. Mulgrave said, “if you would see Dinah to her room, please.”
“No,” Miss Dinah pressed. “Tell me what you’re going to do.”
“What can we do?” Mr. Mulgrave glanced over his shoulder at his daughter. “We’ll leave London in the morning.”
Henry could see Dinah’s bleak future spread out in front of her. She would return home to wherever they lived. But no matter how far from London one fled, eventually the gossip would catch up. The gentlemen there would assume she was a woman of no virtue. They would treat her most ill. Henry knew mankind too well to think otherwise.
And all because Miss Dinah had been brave enough to risk her life to save a little girl she’d never before laid eyes on.
It was cruel, yet it was happening right here before him.
“Sir,” Henry said, this time putting more strength into his words, demanding that Mr. Mulgrave hear him out. “The fault here lies with me, not your daughter. So the remedy must be mine as well.”
Mr. Mulgrave speared him with a scowl. “And how do you propose to save my daughter?”
“I will marry her, sir.”
The words came out, yet he could barely believe he’d uttered them himself.
“You?” Mr. Mulgrave spat out. “So this was your plan all along, then? To force me into giving my daughter to you?”
Hisplan? Devil take it, if Henry had had more than three minutes to formulate a plan, it would have turned out far better than this. There was no plan at this point—that was the problem.
“I’d rather die than let an oafish, status-grabbing, rattlepated picaroon like you anywhere near my daughter.”
Status-grabber, was he? A picaroon? “I believe, sir,” he said, his voice growing hard and his entire body going rigid, “it is time we were properly introduced. I am the Earl of Stanton, son of the seventh Earl of Stanton, and no matter what inaccuracies you may assume from my appearance, I am a man of honor and respectability. As such, I am offering myself to protect your daughter’s good name.”
Henry had long since resigned himself to life as a bachelor. His younger brother was happily wed and had three rambunctious sons who could inherit his title when he was gone. They even now lived here in London. There was no need for Henry to continue the Stanton line, and he had decided well over a decade ago that he would not do so.
If his bursting household held one more young woman, what was that to him?
He was confident they could wed and perhaps someday form enough of an association to be quite like cousins.
Nothing more, he was certain of that. More certain than he was that it rained often in England.
But surely it would be far better for Miss Dinah than being sent away from London only to have tonight’s misunderstanding haunt her for the rest of her life.
Mr. Mulgrave studied him, staring at him as though he could peer through Henry’s skull and read his mind.
“Earl ofStanton,you said?” the older woman asked.
Henry inclined his head in her direction.
She moved forward, away from Miss Dinah, and placed a hand on Mr. Mulgrave’s arm. “If ever there was a man who was worthy of your list, it is him.”
List? Henry had no idea what she might be referring to. He dared a glance over at Miss Dinah. She watched him with wide eyes. Was that surprise in her expression? Or fear? Either way, if she did know what list Lady Blackmore had spoken of, a simple look wouldn’t be enough to tell him.
“If he’s so honorable, why isn’t he already on the list?” Mr. Mulgrave addressed the other woman.
“He was rumored to have removed from Town four months ago.”
That had been exactly what Henry had hoped all of society would believe he had done. In truth, he’d actually still been here, in London, only he was among smugglers and couldn’t be seen about Town as both a lowlife and a gentleman of breeding. He’d had to choose one over the other. It would have worked, too, if not for tonight’s debacle.
Both Mr. Mulgrave and the older woman were looking to him, seemingly waiting for him to explain.
“I had only just gotten back this afternoon when I came across your daughter,” Henry said. It was frightening how easy it was to lie after doing nothing else for the past four months. “Regardless,” Henry pressed on, not looking away from Mr. Mulgrave’s intense gaze, “Iama man of honor. I will not leave your daughter to face society’s judgment alone.”
