seat. She definitely did not want to be here. If she could have accompanied Lady Beatrice, she would have, but Emma had latched onto her arm and virtually dragged her to the Knightsdale carriage.
“Mr. Parker-Roth was not to blame for the scene in the garden, Emma. He should not have to pay with his freedom for being a Good Samaritan.”
“Bah! The garden has nothing to do with it. If what Mrs. Parker-Roth and Lady Beatrice hinted at is even close to the truth, it was not charity the man was practicing in Lady Palmerson’s parlor. Lud, my own eyes told me that. You were sitting on his lap, Meg, in a state of undress.”
Meg’s cheeks felt as red as the fabric on that hideous chair where she and Parks had—
No, she could not think on it.
She looked out the window.
“I have to agree with your sister, Meg.” Charles’s voice was calm at least. “And I believe Parker-Roth does, too. He seemed perfectly willing to wed you, even without my insistence.”
Meg shrugged. “Willing, perhaps, but not happy.”
“Meg, for heaven’s sake!” Emma was almost shouting. “The man hardly knows you. Of course he’s not happy. No one—especially no man—likes to have his hand forced, even when it’s his own actions doing the forcing. He’ll get over it.” She shrugged. “He’ll have to.”
Wonderful. What an exciting wedded life to look forward to—a husband who barely tolerated her. Not that such a marriage would be unusual, of course. Most males of the ton sought out their wives only to attend to the chore of producing an heir—and Parks didn’t even have that compulsion. Perhaps they would live together like brother and sister.
She swallowed a sob.
“Did you say something, Meg?”
“No.”
And, yes, she realized she’d been considering just such a marriage ever since she’d made marriage her goal. Certainly when she’d considered Bennington as a husband. But that was different.
She refused to consider exactly why it was different.
She rested her head against the window and watched a man stroll down the sidewalk. He was moving faster than their coach. If only she could get out and stretch her legs…if only she could get away from this conversation.
There was no escaping Emma until they reached Knightsdale House—if she could escape her then. She sighed. Emma would probably follow her to her room to continue her harangue.
Why was she going to Charles’s townhouse anyway?
“All my things are at Lady Beatrice’s, Emma. I do think it would be best if I returned there.”
“No. Definitely not. And your belongings are no longer at Lady Beatrice’s. I had Charles send a footman round to fetch them as soon as I arrived. Now that I am here, I will take over all chaperone duties.”
Why had Emma come to Town? Her sister hated London, preferring to stay home in Kent even when Charles came up to attend the House of Lords.
“Why are you here, Emma? I thought you considered the country air much better for the boys.”
“It is, but I couldn’t very well sit home when I kept hearing such shocking reports of your behavior.” Emma paused, obviously struggling with her temper. “I should have come up with you at the beginning of the Season and not delegated the job to Lady Beatrice. It was obviously asking too much of her.”
Meg felt as if she’d swallowed a rock. “What do you mean? Has someone been spreading tales?”
“More than one someone, miss. I’ve gotten coy letters from Lady Oldston and an alarmed missive from Lady Farley who, by the by, did not think you were at all the thing for her son. I take it you’ve made something of a habit of disappearing into the shrubbery with men. How many gentlemen have you entertained in the bushes, Meg?”
“Um.” Put that way, it did sound somewhat sordid. “It wasn’t exactly…I mean—”
“I thought you liked Parker-Roth,” Charles said. “Didn’t we hear some mention of the man last year?”
“What?”
“Parker-Roth. Wasn’t he at Tynweith’s house party? I’m certain either you or Aunt Bea mentioned him favorably in one of your letters.”
“I’m sure it was not I who wrote about him.” She was confident she’d been careful not to allude to Parks. Yes, she’d been taken with him, fool that she was. Well, it was not so odd. It wasn’t every day she found a man who could discuss Repton’s Fragments on the Theory and Practice of Landscape Gardening intelligently—or at all.
Stupidly she had hoped he’d show an interest in her when they’d returned to London. He hadn’t. She pressed her lips together. He had definitely not shown any interest in her. He’d attended Robbie’s and Lizzie’s wedding and then vanished. She’d looked for him at every soiree, every ball, every Venetian breakfast. Finally after weeks of discreetly searching, she’d asked Robbie where he was. He’d told her Parks had gone back to his estate in Devon.
Clearly he had not been as impressed with her as she had with him.
“You’re right, Charles. I do think Lady Beatrice mentioned Mr. Parker-Roth. I think she even said you favored him, Meg.”
“Ack. Um. I mean, well—”
“After I got over the shock—and you do have to admit the scene in Lady Palmerson’s parlor was shocking”—Emma eyed the shawl still wrapped around Meg’s ruined gown—“I began to see the advantages of this match.”
“Advantages?”
“Yes. You’ll be married. Mr. Parker-Roth is relatively young—just a little over thirty, I believe—and can give you plenty of children. He has a number of brothers and sisters, you know.”
“Oh?” Meg swallowed. Children? With Parks? The notion made her feel very…odd.
“Yes, indeed. And he likes plants. His mother says he has quite a few of them around the estate.”
“Oh.”
“I think he is perfect for you.” Emma leaned back against the squabs. “His mother and I had a comfortable coze while we waited in the corridor. She’s a lovely woman. You can be sure I apologized profusely for my rude behavior. She could not have been nicer—said she understood completely. I will quite like being connected to her.”
“Emma, you are not going to be connected to Mrs. Parker-Roth. I am not going to marry her son. How many times must I say it?”
“As many times as you like—it makes no difference. You must marry the man or be ruined.”
“I do not.”
“Meg—”
“Ladies,” Charles said, “it is time to call a halt to this battle. Neither of you is listening to the other.”
“What
