if what you say is true, it doesn’t change the fact that you stayed with her alone for hours.’ James reached out for a letter opener, running his finger along the edge. ‘She is my only daughter. My youngest child.’
‘This wasn’t her fault.’ Yet, Michael didn’t see a clear solution. It wasn’t fair for Hannah to endure the sly gossip of the society matrons, nor to be shunned if word got out.
‘No, it’s yours.’ The Marquess folded his arms, adding, ‘Don’t think that I would allow a man like you to wed her. You won’t touch a penny of her inheritance.’
Michael stepped back, his anger barely controlled. Keeping his voice steady, he said, ‘I don’t want anything from either of you. She was in trouble, and I went to help her. Nothing more.’
The Marquess set his pen down. ‘I want you to leave England. I don’t want her to ever set eyes upon you again.’ Picking up his pen, he began writing. ‘I am going to ask your commanding officer to see to it. I’ll contribute enough funds to the Army to make sure you stay far away from London.’
Michael didn’t doubt that the Marquess’s money would accomplish anything the man wanted. ‘And what will happen to Lady Hannah?’
The Marquess set down his pen. ‘Belgrave has offered to wed her.’
‘No. Not him.’ Michael clenched his fist. ‘You would offer her up to a man like that?’
‘There is nothing wrong with Belgrave. He’s going to keep Hannah’s reputation safe.’
‘You mean he’s going to reveal the scandal to everyone if she doesn’t wed him,’ Michael guessed.
The Marquess didn’t deny it. ‘I won’t let my daughter be hurt. Not if I can prevent it from happening.’
Hannah had seen her mother cry before, but never like this. Usually Christine Chesterfield used her tears to dramatic effect, whenever her husband wouldn’t let her opinion sway him.
This time, Christine simply covered her mouth with her hand while the tears ran down her cheeks. Hannah sat across from her, while two cups of tea went cold. The grandfather clock in the parlour chimed eight o’clock. Eight hours was all it had taken to change her life completely.
‘I promise you, Mother, I am fine,’ Hannah murmured. ‘Neither of them compromised me.’ She refused to cry, for the shock was still with her. ‘I don’t know what else to say, when you won’t accept the truth.’
‘This isn’t about truth.’ Christine dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. ‘It’s about appearances.’
‘It will be all right,’ Hannah insisted. ‘My friends will believe me, if they hear rumours. They know I would never do anything of that nature.’ She stood up, pacing across the carpet. ‘I don’t see why we cannot simply tell everyone what happened.’
Christine blew her nose. ‘You are far too naïve, my dear. We can’t risk any of this scandal leaking to anyone.’
‘I am not ruined.’
‘You are. Your only hope of salvaging what’s left of your honour is to marry Lord Belgrave and to do so quickly.’
‘I will not marry that horrid man. He’s the reason all of this happened!’ Hannah arranged her skirts, tucking her feet beneath them. ‘He kidnapped me from my own home, Mother! Why won’t you believe me?’
Her mother only shook her head sadly. ‘I believe you, Hannah. But the greater problem is that you spent hours alone in a carriage with a soldier. Lord Belgrave is right: nothing will cover up that scandal, if it gets out.’
But no one knew about it, except…
‘He’s threatening you,’ Hannah predicted, suddenly realising the truth. ‘Belgrave plans to tell everyone about the scandal unless I wed him. Is that it?’
Her mother’s face turned scarlet. ‘We won’t let that happen.’
Hannah couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her parents were allowing themselves to be manipulated for her sake.
Christine avoided looking at her. ‘You have nothing to fear from the baron, Hannah. I believe him when he says he has nothing but remorse for his actions. He wants to start again, and I think you should give him a second chance.’
‘I’d rather kiss a toad.’
‘He is coming to pay a call on you tomorrow. And you will see him and listen to what he has to say.’
Without meeting Hannah’s incredulous gaze, Christine retrieved a sheet of paper from a writing desk and chose a pen. Hannah clenched her fingers together, for she knew her mother was composing another list.
‘Mother, no,’ she pleaded. ‘There has to be another way. Perhaps I could go to Falkirk with Stephen and Emily.’ Her brother would offer her the sanctuary of his home without question.
‘They have already left, early this morning,’ her mother said. ‘And your brother has enough to worry about with Emily due to give birth in a few weeks. He doesn’t know what happened last night, and we are not going to tell him until it’s all sorted out.’
Her mother handed her the list, and walked her to the door. ‘Now. Go to your room and rest until eleven o’clock. When you rise, wear your rose silk gown with the high neck and pagoda sleeves. We will discuss your future over luncheon. The baron will come to call upon you tomorrow to discuss the arrangements.’
‘I don’t want to see that man again, much less marry him,’ Hannah insisted.
‘You no longer have a choice. You’d best get used to the idea, for your father is making the arrangements now. You’ll be married within a week.’
After her mother’s door closed, Hannah stormed down the stairs, her shawl falling loose from her shoulders. There was no hope of finding sleep, not now.
With a brief glance at the list, she saw her mother’s orders.
1 Rest until eleven o’clock.
2 Wear the rose silk gown.
3 Drink a cup of tea with cream, no sugar, to calm your nerves.
Hannah read the list three times, her hands shaking. Her entire life, she’d done everything her parents had asked. She had studied her lessons, listened to her governesses and done everything she could to please her family.
It made her stomach twist to see them turn against her this way. Her parents no longer cared about her future happiness—only their reputations.
Though she was supposed to return to her room, she kept moving towards the gardens. Tears of rage burned down her cheeks. All her years of being good meant nothing if she had to wed a man like Belgrave.
The list no longer held the familiarity of a mother’s love, helping her to remember the tasks at hand. Instead, it was a chain, tightening
