Page 8 of A Whisper of Desire
His only safety net was that he doubted Marisa would find this situation to her liking. Her heart belonged to Rutherford, a man unworthy of her love. Yet if she loved another, it might dampen her want of him. He needed to make a plan, something to keep her as far from him as possible.
The problem was he wanted a son. Needed a son.
He looked at Sebastian and asked, “How long have we been missing? What is the time?”
“It’s almost six in the morning. You have been missing since the ball finished.” Sebastian added, “When we could not find you both we assumed you had taken Marisa home. When we arrived home and Marisa was not there, I realized something was afoot. I had better send word to Beatrice and Helen; they are worried sick.”
“While doing so, could you please organize clothes for us both? Our garments are missing, I assume to make a quiet escape impossible,” Marisa said.
Maitland cleared his throat. “Perhaps Lady Dunmire could lend us clothing to see us home. Sebastian, I assume you have brought your carriage.” He looked out of the window. “The sun’s up. We will be the talk of theton.I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” Then his words must have sunk in. Marisa pushed out of her brother’s arms. “Oh, my, Rutherford.” She turned pleading eyes to Sebastian. “You have to ask him to call so I can explain what has happened.”
“Let’s worry about sorting out the situation once you are home and rested,” Sebastian said, placing a kiss on top of Marisa’s head. “I’ll organize the clothes. I doubt that I shall be able to keep Lady Dunmire from talking.” He looked at Maitland as he said those words. “I’ll be as fast as I can.” With that, he slipped from the room.
“Do you think Lord Rutherford will understand?” Marisa asked, as she sat down on the side of the bed looking thoroughly dejected.
“If he truly loves you, he’ll not care about this scandal.”
“He does love me.”
Maitland marveled at how deceitful Rutherford had been. Marisa truly believed Rutherford loved her. It was going to be a steep learning curve for her; she would find people could lie and deceive about anything to get what they desired. She’d learn that not all men are as honorable as her brother, and that in all likelihood she would have to become his duchess.
If he weren’t so honorable he’d use her love for Rutherford to get out of this mess. If he said nothing and let her marry Rutherford, he’d save both of them heartache. He wished he could be so cruel. Perhaps he could simply tell her the truth and let her choose the lesser of two evils—marriage to him or to Rutherford.
He worried that once he told Sebastian about the conversation he’d overheard with Rutherford, her brother would not allow Rutherford near her.
Honor won.
“Why are you so sure he loves you? He’s young, and usually handsome men with wealthy titles are not in a rush to marry. They are too busy sowing their oats.”
Marisa smiled so sweetly he hated how he could break her heart with only a few words. Rutherford had a mistress and was marrying Marisa for her dowry, and to be free of his father. Even if he told her the truth would she believe him?
“He told me he loves me.”
“It’s not wise to always believe everything a man tells you.”
She thought on that for a moment. “No. Not always, but why would he lie?”
“Perhaps because you are beautiful and your dowry is large.”
She laughed. “Maitland, you are so silly. Rutherford will be a marquess. When his father dies he inherits everything. He doesn’t need my money.”
“He won’t in the future, that is true, but what about now? What if his father has limited his allowance?”
A frown crossed her beautiful face, making her nose turn up. “Why would his father not provide an adequate allowance?” She crawled up onto the bed and padded across the sheet to where he sat and looked into his eyes, trying to ascertain his thoughts. “Do you know something about Lord Rutherford that you are not telling me?”
Chapter 3
Here was Maitland’s chance to lie. He could tell her that Rutherford would make her a wonderful husband or he could tell her the truth. He eyed her earnest, concerned face and couldn’t do it. He couldn’t be brutal, because it would break her heart. Rutherford should be the one to tell her the truth, and then she should have a choice. Neither man loved her, but if she loved Rutherford so much…
“I think you should ask Lord Rutherford if he has a mistress and what, if any, financial incentive he gets upon his marriage.”
“You do know something.” She stared into his eyes accusingly. “I think you’re trying to discredit him because you want me to look more favorably upon your suit.”
He shut his eyes and clenched his fists, drawing in a big breath. Suit? There would be no suit now. She didn’t understand her situation. How could she be so naïve? Once more composed, he took her hand in his, as her other hand clutched the quilt, holding it together, and he said, “I don’t need to court you, Marisa. If I know your brother, he will have sent for the bishop and a special license.”
Tears welled up in her eyes and she tried to pull her hand free, but he held fast.
