away from the fire and faced her. “Once the husband healed, he took his wife abroad. To own the truth, I have no idea what became of her. But the scandal had sullied my family name, and I am sure you can imagine my father’s disdain.”
He could not tell her the rest. He could not say that his august parent had died only a few months later. His heart had given out, the doctor said. His sisters told him over and over that his heart had always been weak. They all knew he drank to excess; it was the reason Brandon did not imbibe. But as far as Brandon was concerned, he might as well have taken a gun to his sire’s head.
He looked intently into her eyes as he asked, “Still think there is nothing to judge, Lady Grace?”
He was trying to shock her, and he expected some kind of horrified response, perhaps even a refusal to go through with their plan. Instead, she stood in front of him with a serene countenance. “I have already been told you abhor dull women, and I fear I shall fall off of that pedestal when I prove guilty of dreary repetition. But I still say I have no right to judge you or anyone.”
“Somehow I find that hard to believe. Your goodness and innocence are clear to anyone with a brain, of which I am one.”
“God’s grace is greater than all of our weaknesses, my lord. I thank Him for that every day.”
He stood dumbfounded.
“Do not worry, I am not trying to convert you. I am trying to say that we all have faults, myself included.”
She waited, but he was stunned into silence. “Now that we have that out of the way, I think we have another few hurdles to overcome. I hope we may be able to solve them tonight and be on our way first thing in the morning.”
He stared at her in astonishment. She was an amazing woman! He wondered if he’d ever be able to tell her how much her acceptance meant to him. Well, it would not be now. There was still much to do. But he vowed he would let her know one day, no matter the outcome of this coil.
“Having known me such a short time, you would not know that the only reason I would even consider a duplicitous engagement is because of my sister, Lydia. Truth to tell, the only reason I would endure another London Season at all is for her. She is so loving and sweet and beautiful. I will not let her settle for less than she deserves.”
“Very well, we have established that your sister is important in our plans. However, those plans still need to be ironed out.”
She calmly replied, “It seems to me that breaking the engagement should be easy enough. We will go for a few drives, you will dance with me once or twice, we shall have a very public disagreement and I shall play the jilt. Where is the rub?”
“It is not the end of the engagement we must settle, but rather the way we shall say it began. I have two sisters who love good gossip and will want to know where we met and how long we have been engaged. Why did we not announce it, or at a minimum, inform them? Why did I not escort you to London? When are we planning to marry...?”
“Oh, dear, please stop. I did not think of any of this.” She sat in the flanking chair and put her head in her hands.
“As long as we are being completely honest, my dear, I must admit I gave a bit of attention to a widow in London last month during the Little Season, so our attachment will have to have been of a very recent nature.”
“Oh, no,” she cried. “You are in love and were ready to be married!”
Before he could even speak, she went on. “Well, there is a simple solution to that. We will tell her the truth from the beginning, and then when the engagement is broken, you will find it was she you loved all along. It is a perfect explanation.” She sat back, entirely satisfied with the new plan. “We must tell her the truth as soon as we reach London, especially if the Marchmonts are before us spreading tales. Perhaps we should tell your sisters, as well.”
“My dear Lady Grace, you have just said the only bird-witted remarks I have heard you utter all night.”
Grace tried to hide her indignation. She was not bird-witted!
Lord Weston rose and went to lean on the mantel. “First of all, I am not in love with anyone,” he exclaimed hotly. “I no longer believe in the silly emotion. Indeed, I am not the marrying sort at all. I have a perfectly capable cousin who will step into my shoes if anything befalls me. But my sisters are aghast at that prospect and continually nag me to marry and produce an heir. I decided to allow them to rest this Season by appearing as if I was trying to find a bride. This particular widow seemed as good a place to start as any.”
She watched as he casually walked to the table and began to peel an apple with his knife.
“She would never expect too much from me, and would not be hurt when my interest faded.”
How could he talk of courtship in such a cold, methodical way? She had never heard of anyone not believing in love! She knew some were not meant for it, or never found it, but to not believe in it? Her heart suddenly ached for him.
The moment of sympathy was quite short-lived.
“She will be mad as fire to learn I am engaged, but I had already discovered she has quite a temper. More, anyway, than I wish to take on. Are you certain you will not eat anything? The pacing back and forth you prefer would seem to require more sustenance than most.”
When he saw she would not rise to the bait, he continued. “As to my sisters, I have not known either to keep a secret their entire lives, so we definitely will not tell them. Fortunately, I am not overly close to either one. But that will not stop them from descending upon you full of questions, so there will be much more we need to know about each other before we get to London. Our stories will have to match exactly.”
“This gets worse and worse. My lord, I cannot look at your sisters and lie to them. It goes against all I believe in.” She stared at him directly and tried to convey how important this was to her.
He scoffed. “If you are determined to believe it is a lie, then accept it as a little white one. What penance is required for that?”
“Lord Weston, please do not make fun of my faith. My relationship with God is an important part of my life. It now enters my mind that London will think it especially odd that their favorite rake would even marry a woman like me.” She began to wring her hands.
The marquess put what was left of the apple on the table. He came to her and took her hands to pull her up before him. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, there was a knock on the door and Lydia stepped into the room.
“Grace, I cannot in good conscience stay away any longer. You have been closeted with this gentleman for more than an hour and it is not seemly.” She turned her eyes to the man standing behind Grace. “I did not see you earlier. Are you Lord Weston?”
Grace looked back at him and started to laugh. His eyes were as wide as his open mouth! When he realized his reaction, he looked back at Grace with a decided gleam in his eyes and his dimple showing. She had been acquainted with the gentleman for a very short time, but she was already certain that was an ominous sign. Knowing there was nothing for it but to brazen through, she said, “Lord Weston, this is my sister, Lydia. Lydia, this is Lord Weston.”
“Why,
