Page 20 of Rose
“Or, in this case, his son,” she added.
“Precisely.”
She frowned. “But this is terrible.”
“It gets worse. Precious little good could be said about Lady Roxwell’s character. She is reputed to be a cruel woman.”
Rose pressed her hand to her heart. “Captain, forgive me for saying so, but where I come from a betrothal is binding. To break it would bring shame to yer family.”
“Now you are alighting upon the true challenges of my predicament, except that, to make matters worse, my father is a commoner who has made a contract with a nobleman. If I were to refuse to honor this betrothal…well—”
Her eyes widened. “Then his very life might be forfeit,” she blurted, interrupting him.
He nodded solemnly. “The only way that I could avoid this marriage and not bring shame to my father or endanger his very life, is if the missive found me and I was already wed.”
Her brows drew together. “But ye’re not married.”
“True,” he said. “But I’ve been away this last year. Who’s to say I haven’t taken a wife.”
She stood up, bumping his knees. “Why do ye waste time here? Ye should be scouring Cardiff for an eligible bride. ‘Tis the only way.”
He held out a calming hand. “That might appear to be the case except that my new bride and her family would have to lie and say we were married before I received the message from my father, which is too risky. And as trivial as this might sound, given all that’s at stake, I do not wish to be forced into any marriage.”
She chewed her lip and stared out into space, clearly searching for a remedy to his problem. At length, she sat back down with a sigh. “I’m sorry, Captain, but I’m afraid I see no other solution.”
He took a deep breath. “According to Philip it’s not as hopeless as we might think.”
She sat straighter. “What has he proposed?”
He laughed nervously. “Funny that you should use that word…” He raked his hand through his hair.
No more hesitation.
He looked at her dead on. “He thinks I should falsify the marriage.”
“Falsify the marriage? What is that supposed to mean?”
“As unbelievable as this might sound, Philip has suggested I take a pretend bride, and that she should be you.”
Her hand flew to her chest. “Me?”
“That is correct.”
Her eyes flashed with anger, taking him completely by surprise. She stood and thrust her finger in his face. “If ye’re asking me to be yer mistress, I suggest ye cast yer nets for another woman—I am not the one.”
“Upon my honor that is not what I meant,” he said, his hand on his heart.
Slowly, she sat back down on the bed. “Explain yerself.”
“What I propose is strictly a business arrangement, an accord between you and me. We will conduct ourselves as a married couple but without the…er…intimacy. Like actors.”
The confusion fled her face. “Or spies,” she said, her eyes now bright. “Although our pretense would not be to uncover a secret, but rather to conceal one.”
“Precisely,” he agreed.
She didn’t speak for several moments. Finally, she dropped her hands to her lap. “I don’t know what to say.”
He squatted down and took her hands. “I have considered my present circumstances from every angle. I would not support Philip’s plan if I had another.”
