I’m Max Ransleigh and it would be thought highly inappropriate if anyone should discover you’d spoken alone with me. For your own good, I must insist that you depart imm—’
‘I know which Ransleigh you are, sir,’ the young woman interrupted. ‘That’s why I sought you out. I have a proposition for you. So to speak,’ she added, her cheeks pinking.
Max blinked at her, sure he could not have heard her properly. ‘A “proposition”?’ he repeated.
‘Yes. I’m Caroline Denby, by the way; my father was the late Sir Martin Denby, of Denby Stables.’
Thinking this bizarre meeting was getting even more bizarre, Max bowed. ‘Miss Denby. Yes, I’ve heard of your father’s excellent horses; my condolences on your loss. However, whatever it is you wish to say, perhaps Mrs Ransleigh could arrange a meeting later. Truly, it’s most imperative that you quit my presence immediately, lest you put your reputation at risk.’
‘But that’s exactly what I wish to do. Not just risk it, but ruin it. Irretrievably.’
Of all the things the lady might have said, that was perhaps the most unexpected. The glib, never-at-a-loss Max found himself speechless.
While he goggled at her, jaw dropped, she rushed on, ‘You see, the situation is rather complicated, but I don’t wish to marry. However, I have a large dowry, so any number of gentlemen want to marry me, and my stepmother believes, like most of the known world—’ her tone turned a bit aggrieved at this ‘—that marriage is the only natural state for a woman. But if I were to be found in a compromising situation with a man who then refused to marry me, I would be irretrievably ruined. My stepmother could no longer drag me about, trying to introduce me to prospective suitors, because no gentleman of honour would consider marrying me.’
Suddenly, in a blinding flash of comprehension, he understood her intentions in seeking him out. Chagrin and outrage held him momentarily motionless. Then, with a curt nod, he spat out, ‘Good day, Miss Denby’, turned on his heel and headed for the door.
She scurried after him and snagged his sleeve, halting his advance. ‘Please, Mr Ransleigh, won’t you hear me out? I know it’s outlandish, and perhaps insulting, but—’
‘Miss Denby, it is without doubt the most appalling, outlandish, insulting and crack-brained idea I’ve ever heard! Naturally, I shall say nothing of this, but if your doubtless long-suffering stepmother—who has my deepest sympathies, by the way—should ever learn of it, you’d be locked up on bread and water for a month!’
The incorrigible female merely grinned at him. ‘She is long suffering, the poor dear. Not that it would do her any good to lock me up, for I’d simply climb out of a window. You’ve already been outraged and insulted. Could you not allow me a few more moments to explain?’
He ought to refuse her unconditionally and beat a hasty exit. But the whole encounter was so unexpected and preposterous, he found himself as intrigued as he was affronted. For a moment, curiosity arm-wrestled prudence … and won.
‘Very well, Miss Denby, explain. But be brief about it.’
‘I realise it’s an … unusual request. As I said, I possess a substantial dowry and I’m already past the age when most well-dowered girls are married off. It wasn’t a problem while my father lived—’ sorrow briefly shadowed her brow ‘—for he never pressed me to marry. Indeed, we’ve worked together closely these last ten years, building the reputation of the Denby Stables. My only desire is to continue that work. But since Papa’s death, my stepmother has grown more and more insistent about getting me wed. Because of my dowry, she has no trouble coming up with candidates, even though I possess almost none of the attributes most gentleman expect in a wife. If I were ruined, the suitors would disappear, my stepmother would be forced to give up her efforts and I could remain where I wish to be, at Denby Lodge with my horses.’
‘Do you never want to marry?’ he asked, curious in spite of himself.
‘I do have a … particular friend, but he is in India with the army, and won’t return for some time.’
‘Wouldn’t this “particular friend” be incensed if he were to discover you’d been ruined?’
She waved a hand. ‘Harry wouldn’t mind. He says most society conventions are contrived and ridiculous.’
‘He might feel differently about something that sullied the honour of the woman he wished to marry,’ Max pointed out.
‘Oh, I’d have to explain, of course. But Harry and I have been the closest of friends since we were children. He’d understand that I only meant to … to save myself for him,’ she finished.
‘Let me see if I understand you correctly. You wish to be found in a compromising situation with me, then have me refuse to marry you, so you would be ruined, which would prevent any honourable gentleman but your friend Harry from ever seeking your hand in wedlock?’
She nodded approvingly, as if he’d just worked out a particularly difficult proof in geometry. ‘Exactly.’
‘First, Miss Denby, let me assure you that though the world may call me a rogue, I am still a gentleman. I do not ruin innocents. Besides, even if I were obliging enough to agree to this scheme, how could I be sure that in the ensuing uproar— and there would be considerable uproar, I promise you—that you would not change your mind and decide you had better wed me after all? Because—no offence meant to present company—I have no wish at all to marry.’
‘Nor do I—no offence meant either—wish to marry you. But no one can force us to marry.’
Leaving aside that dubious claim, he said, ‘If it’s ruination you seek, why did you not approach my cousin Alastair? His reputation is even more scandalous than mine.’
‘I considered him, but thought he wouldn’t suit. For one, it’s his mother’s house party and he wouldn’t wish to embarrass her. Second, I understand that since being disappointed in love, he’s held females in aversion, whereas you are said to genuinely like women. And finally, since your plans for your career were recently shattered, I thought perhaps you would understand what it is like to have your future dictated by the decisions of others, with little control over your own destiny.’
His eyes widened, for the observation struck home. Despite the impossible nature of her request, he felt a rush of sympathy for this young woman who’d lost the only advocate who could guarantee her the life she wanted, while everyone else was trying to force her into a role not of her choosing.
She must have seen the realisation in his eyes, for she said, ‘You do understand, don’t you? Despite the setback in your choice of career, you are a man; you can make new plans. But when a woman marries, everything she owns, even power over her very body, becomes the possession of her husband, who can sell it, game it away, or ruin it, as he pleases. You must admit, few gentlemen would permit their wives to run a horse-breeding farm. I don’t want to see Papa’s lifetime of work pass into the hands of a man who would forbid me to manage it, who might neglect, ruin—or even sell it! My horses! There’s no one I trust with Papa’s legacy, except for Harry. So … won’t you help me?’
The whole idea was outlandish, as she herself had admitted. He ought to refuse categorically and send her on her way … before someone discovered them and she was compromised in truth. But he hadn’t been so intrigued and amused for a very long time. ‘You’re in love with this
