Page 83 of No Mistress Of Mine

Abruptly, he rolled off the bed. “I have presented you with an alternative,” he said as he began to dress. “Twice now, as a matter of fact. But you don’t seem to fancy it.”

“Because it isn’t a viable alternative.”

“Yes, it is. It’s just not a perfect one, wrapped up with a ribbon and a bow.”

“You think I care about that? Denys, here in England, marriage is permanent, until death do us part. My mother was able to change her mind, get her marriage annulled. But here, it’s different. Your sort gets married, there’s no hushing it up.”

“True.” He donned his shirt and tucked it into his trousers, then he reached for his socks and pulled them on.

“Marrying me would be forever. No way you could annul it later, even given my notorious past.”

“That is also true.” He slipped on his shoes and glanced around. “Where the devil is my collar?”

“Your father has already sold the Imperial. He’ll do more than that if you marry me. He’ll disinherit you.”

“Ah,” he said, spying his collar at the foot of the bed. He scooped it up, along with his cuff links, collar studs, and necktie, then he moved to stand in front of the mirror above her dressing table and continued to dress.

“What if he does, Denys?” she asked after a few moments.

He paused in the act of tying his tie and met her gaze in the mirror, pretending not to understand her question. “Worried I can’t support you?”

“That’s not it. I could support us if it came to it.”

“I’d prefer that you didn’t. Thetonrather frowns on that sort of thing.” He finished tying his tie and began fastening his collar studs. “Is that your real concern? Giving up acting? Because if it is, feel free to keep doing it. I shan’t care.”

“That’s not it either!” she cried. “I love acting, I do, but if I married you, of course I’d have to give it up. I may not know much about viscountesses, but I’m fully aware they can’t be actresses, too!”

He smiled to himself, noting the shift in her words, the use of the word “if.” Another step forward, he thought, pleased and also a bit relieved she might be willing to give up the stage at some point. He was proud of what she’d accomplished for herself, especially last night, and if she wanted to continue to act, he’d support her decision, but though he was willing to fight that particular battle with thetonon her behalf, he couldn’t say he’d relish the prospect. There would be plenty of other battles for them to fight as it was. “Then what is the problem?” he asked, turning toward her. “I love you. You say you love me. Are you really refusing me because you’re afraid society won’t accept us?”

She didn’t answer, and he went on, “At Covent Garden, the things you told me indicated that you were concerned about what they’d think of me, and you were concerned about my future happiness, and while I think all of that is true, I also think that’s not the whole story. Why don’t you tell me the rest? Why are you really so afraid?”

She still didn’t answer, and he decided to let it go. He had a plan, and he had a great deal more to do in order to carry it out. He picked up his waistcoat, buttoned it, and reached for his jacket.

“I have to go,” he said gently. She nodded, but she didn’t reply and she didn’t look up, and he wondered if perhaps he ought to hold off, give her more time. But then, her voice came to him from across the room, soft and hushed. “Don’t you know the reason?”

His hand tightened around the jacket in his hand. “I could hazard a guess,” he murmured, studying her bent head and her tumbled hair. “I could say it’s because everyone you’ve ever loved has abandoned or discarded you.”

A faint sob told him he was on the right track. “I could go a bit further,” he went on as he crossed to the bed, “and say that you’re terrified I’ll do the same.” He cupped her cheek and lifted her face. “That I’ll grow tired of you, and fall out of love with you, and take a mistress.”

A tear fell down her cheek, and he brushed it away with his thumb. “I shan’t,” he said, and let her go. “You’ll have to take my word for that, of course, but...” He shrugged and slipped on his jacket. “There it is. I’m asking you to trust me.”

“It’s not about trust. It’s about the way the world works.”

“You really think my family won’t accept you if we marry?”

“I know they won’t. Your father...” She swallowed hard, and Denys braced himself for more obstacles. “Denys, he called me a whore.”

Rage exploded inside him even though he didn’t move, and it was several moments before he could control it enough to speak. “He never will again. That I promise you. I will make certain he understands that if he utters one more derogatory word about you, he will have crossed the Rubicon.”

“Oh, no,” she moaned. “I never should have told you. I won’t let you do this. I won’t let you choose me over your family.”

“I already did. I made my choice that afternoon in St.John’s Wood, when I walked across that sidewalk and stepped into that cab. I chose you.”

She shook her head, refusing to believe, and he decided it was time to roll the dice and let the chips fall where they would. “Let’s put your lack of faith in my family to the test, shall we? I’m having a private dinner with them this evening, here at the Savoy. Consider this your formal invitation to join us.”

She stared at him, eyes widening in panic. “I can’t do that!”

“Yes, you can. It’s very simple. You put on a pretty gown, you come downstairs, and you tell the maître d’hôtel you are with Lord Somerton’s party. I’ll be sure he knows to expect you. He will escort you to the door, he’ll announce you, and you’ll walk in. All very simple.”

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