A Bargain With Fate. Ann Cree Elizabeth

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lordship wishes me to inform you he will not leave until you see him. He will wait for your convenience, even if it is past midnight.’

      ‘That is most ridiculous.’ But something about his confident, overbearing manner made her think he was perfectly capable of carrying out his threat, effectively holding her prisoner in her room. She could hardly go about her business while he cooled his heels in the drawing room. What if someone called? Her grandmother, for instance. She closed her book and rose.

      The strange sensation that her life was about to be altered forever floated over her. But how silly—she had never been prone to such fanciful notions.

      With reluctant steps, she entered her drawing room. The morning sun cast a friendly glow about the small yellow room. Her unwanted visitor sat in one of the armchairs near the fireplace, absorbed in a leather-bound volume, his buckskin-clad legs stretched out before him. He didn’t notice her presence for a few seconds and then he glanced up, closed the book and laid it aside. He rose to his feet in a lazy movement.

      He was dressed much as he had been the first time she saw him, in riding coat and breeches, and top-boots, his cravat tied carelessly about his neck. His elegance looked out of place amidst the fading Oriental carpet and the comfortable but old-fashioned furnishings of the room.

      His face was relaxed and his manner confident, as if there was no reason he was not perfectly welcome in her home.

      ‘Lady Jeffreys, I did not expect to see you quite so soon. I was betting on some time in late afternoon.’

      This threw her off completely. ‘Indeed. I usually don’t keep visitors waiting that long.’

      ‘In my case, I was not sure. I am relieved, although my day is at your disposal. I decided to fetch a book from the library to occupy my time.’

      ‘A book?’

      ‘Does that astound you? I occasionally engage my mind in less dissipated pursuits, such as reading. I have even been known to pick up a volume of philosophy or history on occasion. But only when I have tired of sitting around a gaming table, stealing away estates or pursuing improper women.’

      ‘Is there a purpose for your visit, my lord?’ she asked with ice in her voice.

      ‘Yes. To return your fan, of course. And to speak with you in private. I would not have called so early, except I did not want you to flee.’ He held out her fan. She took it from him, careful to avoid any contact with his hand.

      Her voice trembled for some odd reason. ‘I see. I can’t imagine what you would wish to speak to me about.’

      ‘I wish to discuss your brother’s gambling debt. I have a proposition to lay before you that I believe will benefit both of us. If you will sit, I will tell you.’

      Even more confused, she quickly seated herself on one of the Queen Anne chairs. He settled back in the other, his eyes fixed on her face. The horrid premonition he was about to offer her another carte blanche caused her heart to beat uncomfortably fast. She folded her hands in her lap and waited.

      ‘I do not think you will find my proposal too distasteful. I merely want you to become betrothed to me.’

      Her heart stopped for a dizzying moment. ‘What did you just say?’

      ‘I would like you to become betrothed to me in exchange for returning your brother’s estate to him.’

      Her hand went to her throat. ‘Betrothed to you! You must be mad! I would never consider such a thing!’

      ‘Do you always answer your offers with such an excess of civility?’ he inquired drily. ‘Perhaps I didn’t phrase it quite right. You don’t need to marry me, merely become my fiancée for a short time. I am in need of a temporary fiancée.’

      He sounded as if he were discussing the need for a new pair of boots.

      ‘A temporary fiancée? Whatever for? I have never heard of anything so…so ridiculous!’ She stood up and backed away from him towards the window, knotting her hands.

      He rose and followed her. ‘Not at all. My father has informed me it’s high time I marry. He’s already chosen the bride. I want to put a stop to his plans before I wake up one morning and find I’m expected to show up at the altar before noon. If I produce a fiancée of my own, I can hardly be expected to offer for the young lady he has in mind.’

      ‘I…I should hope not.’ He sounded so reasonable, Rosalyn had no doubt he was quite mad. ‘But why me? I hardly think I would suit your purposes. We do not deal at all well together.’

      A disarming smile settled over his features. ‘You mean you wish me to perdition, my dear. There is no need to look so shocked, your face is far too honest. The strong aversion you’ve shown for my company suits me very well; I’ve no doubt you will be quite willing to cry off at the appropriate time. The bargain benefits both of us. You want your brother’s estate back—it will be done. I avoid a marriage I don’t want. And just consider, what could be more natural than for me to return Meryton to your brother as his future brother-in law? It will save a lot of explanation.’

      ‘It is blackmail!’

      ‘Hardly. Come now, Lady Jeffreys, what is so difficult? Is a few months in my company such a sacrifice for your brother? Just think how much you’ll enjoy publicly jilting me in the end.’

      Apparently the whole thing was nothing but a huge jest to him.

      And how dare he be so confident that she would be delighted to play the role of his fiancée?

      ‘A few months! I’d rather spend an eternity in hell than a day in your company.’

      Her hand flew to her mouth, horrified at her rude words.

      Something wholly unexpected crossed his face, but for such a fleeting moment, she was certain she had imagined it. Only slight amusement remained. ‘Indeed? In that case, I shall leave you to plan your move from Meryton.’

      He picked up his gloves and moved towards the door, then turned and bowed elaborately in her direction. ‘However, I will leave my offer open for a day or so. In case you change your mind. Good day, my lady.’

      ‘My lord, I am…’ Before she could frame an apology, he quitted the room.

      Mortified, she sank down on the sofa. Never had she said such an unkind thing to anyone. She tried to tell herself he richly deserved it, but she wasn’t so certain. For one brief moment, he had looked as if her words had affected him. But no, that was impossible. Not the imperturbable Marquis of Stamford.

      She put a hand to her head, which was beginning to ache in a familiar way. She could not possibly take him up on his preposterous suggestion, not even for James.

      She stood up and took an agitated turn around the room.

      But would a few months in his company really be such a high price to pay for Meryton? It was not as if he demanded she be his mistress. She had heard of men who were unscrupulous enough to ask for a woman’s favours to pay off a debt. Not that she thought Lord Stamford was above that if it suited him. Most likely she was not to his taste, thank goodness. The thought of spending a night in his arms filled her with shivery panic.

      She

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