Page 19 of His Unwanted Duchess

“Do you really think Miss Haversham was keen on marrying the Marquess?” Stephen asked abruptly.

Theodore shifted uneasily. “Well, she is notmyfriend exactly. More like Anna’s friend. I’m sure she would have spoken up if she were not happy with the arrangement.”

“Oh? What an incisive mind you have, my friend. No detail escapes you.”

Theodore rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright. It is clear you saw something I did not. Frankly, I don’t think she was in love with the man, but that still does not explain why you saw fit to intervene in such a manner. I did not know you were even on close terms with Beatrice.”

“I am not. And as forintervening, it’s rather simple. I helped her because she asked me to.”

Theodore blinked, bewildered. Stephen allowed himself one small, wry smile, then turned and continued to walk.

They stayed quiet until the crowds were mostly left behind. As anticipated, the traffic was back, coaches and carriages and horses thronging the streets. London had always been a busy city, of course, but these days, it grew more crowded by the hour.

“Why would Beatrice ask you to help her?” Theodore asked, picking up the thread of their conversation once the crowds had somewhat melted away.

“I have a reputation, you know. She did not know or care how I would free her from her wedding, but that’s what she wanted. In return, I requested one favor. Just one.”

Theodore shot him a look. “One is all it takes with you, you wretch. A gentleman might have helped her out of her predicament without asking for anything in return.”

“Then a gentleman would be a fool. And I am not a gentleman, am I, Theodore?”

Theodore let out an annoyed sigh. “And that does not explain why you are talking aboutmarryingher, Stephen. I thought you were opposed to matrimony.”

“Not true. I do not see much appeal in the institution—yourself and Anna notwithstanding—and, as you know, I do not intend to continue my line.”

Theodore shot him a quick look. They had discussed Stephen’s father before, but Theodore knew about Stephen’s vow.

Stephen was often under the impression that his friend did not quiteagree, but Theodore did understand, and that was the main thing.

“So, explain,” Theodore pressed. “Why Beatrice? And why in such a manner?”

“Quite simply because Miss Haversham was there. She was convenient.”

“Ha! You never take the easiest road, Stephen.”

Stephen rolled his eyes. “Very well. She displayed remarkable bravery by coming to visit me, which one must admire. She is clever, forthright, and clearly desires independence. She does not like me, and so will not bother me, and seems to be the sort of woman who would appreciate a nicely worked-out, old-fashioned marriage of convenience. However, I’m not sure she would have been amenable to the idea of marrying me had she not owed me a favor.”

Theodore groaned. “Did you not consider marrying a woman who wasnotengaged in a battle of wits with you?”

“Now, where is the fun in that? And I’d like to remind you that the circumstances ofyournuptials were also less than ideal.”

That was a fair point, which Theodore conceded with a grunt and a nod of his head.

They reached a busy market square, full of carriages and angry coachmen shouting at each other and flicking whips over the heads of the passersby in an attempt to clear their way. It was not working, and most pedestrians carried on their way, oblivious, heads down, weaving through the market stalls.

There were plenty of independent sellers to avoid, too—small girls with baskets of wilting flowers, pie-men with their steaming, savory goods, slatternly women selling gingerbread and other edibles, along with ribbons, posies, jewelry, and more. Just about every treat and trinket a person could think of.

There were also pickpockets aplenty, and Stephen kept his wits about him as they forced their way through.

There were less savory ladies lurking in the dark alleyways, their faces powdered and clumsily rouged. Their eyes were hard and sharp, on the lookout for peelers and prospective customers alike.

It was always unpleasant to see ladies of the night during the day—it smacked of desperation and perhaps a little fear.

For his part, Stephen never dallied with such women. He preferred mutually beneficial arrangements, with mutual admiration and satisfaction on both sides. It seemed sickening to even contemplate taking advantage of their unfortunate and miserable situations.

He knew only too well that any number of unavoidable misfortunes could send a woman skidding on her backside into the gutter, with no means of earning a living and nothing to sell except herself.

A runaway or drunk husband, a mistake in one’s youth, losing a job in a factory, or even a simple bout of bad luck was all it would take.

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