Page 12 of The Meaning of Love
She walked straight to the wide windows and halted as if surveying the rear garden.
He followed her into the room and closed the door.
The instant she heard the latch click, she drew in a breath and swung to face him. “So, what do we do now?”
Julian took his time crossing the room to join her, using the moments to study her face and try to read her expression and her eyes. He was accustomed to negotiations and wanted to know where she stood—what she was thinking and how she felt about the situation. He wanted to know if she saw it as he did—as an unlooked-for opportunity—and if not, figure out what he could do to nudge her in that direction.
Her dark-blue gaze was guarded, her expression controlled, but he sensed a certain wariness—not of him, but of what might transpire.
So, then…
He halted before her and, entirely unaggressively, held her gaze. “You know the ton’s ways better than I do, but I assume we’ll need to play the part of affianced couple for several weeks at least.”
She humphed dismissively. “More like several months—all the way to the end of the Season. The ton won’t stop watching us until then, until the major families retire to the country.”
He inclined his head. “Until the end of the Season, then.” That suited him to the ground. The more time he had to convince her of the desirability of the prospect he envisioned the better.
She was studying him curiously, almost suspiciously. “You seem remarkably amenable to a constraint you couldn’t possibly have foreseen.”
He lightly shrugged. “Why do you think I came to London?” When she frowned, he supplied, “To find a suitable wife.”
Her frown deepened. “You’re only, what…thirty?”
He inclined his head. “But I’m not of a mind to wait and allow the grandes dames to meddle in my life.”
She tipped her head in acknowledgment. “I can understand that.”
He forced himself to ask, “Will participating in our faux engagement interfere with any plans you had?” He hoped the question would distract her from the track her mind had been following, and he needed to know if there was any other gentleman in her life—specifically one from whom she might have had hopes of receiving an offer.
He hadn’t had time to research her current life, and the only person he could viably ask was her terrifying grandmother, and if at all possible, he would prefer to avoid having to explain their present situation, much less his thoughts on how it might be resolved, to Lady Osbaldestone. She might be moved to support him, or she might not. At this point, he wasn’t keen to risk it.
Melissa’s expression clouded, and her gaze fell from his face. He found himself holding his breath, but then she shook her head. “Not really.” She glanced up and met his eyes. “If you must know, my plan for this Season was to see it out, then sue to be left in peace, socially speaking.”
He frowned, then rather carefully admitted, “I’m not quite sure of the logic there, but regardless, as matters stand, if we wait out the Season, then once everyone’s retreated to the country for summer, you can cry off, citing irreconcilable incompatibilities or whatever the latest acceptable phrasing is.”
Melissa studied him, then said, “While I agree that such a sequence of events would normally be accepted without much more than a passing remark, I suspect that, in our case, we’re going to run into difficulties.”
He was genuinely puzzled. “Such as?”
“Such as everyone in the ton declaring ours to be”—she surrendered to impulse and spread her arms dramatically—“the perfect match!” Lowering her arms, she crossed them and met his gaze. “On top of the fulsome congratulations we received last night, this morning brought a host of congratulatory missives from the other half of the ton who were not present at Lady Connaught’s event.”
He looked taken aback. “That was quick!”
“Indeed. Apparently, your august lineage taken together with my family’s standing and connections throughout the ton, coupled with my family’s prominence in the Foreign Office and your association with the Home Office, plus, well, every other possible consideration make it so!” She huffed. “The grandes dames are in alt.”
He frowned. “I wouldn’t have thought they’d be so keen to marry me off.”
She all but growled, “Not you—me! They’ve been trying to marry me off for years!”
“Ah.” Julian sternly suppressed a smile. Apparently, Fate was looking kindly on him; even the grandes dames were on his side.
He watched Melissa swing about and scowl disgruntledly at the view outside, then deliberately stated, “And then there’s that kiss.”
She glanced at him.
He caught her gaze and arched a brow, inviting her response.
As he’d hoped, she didn’t back down. Her lips thinned, then she nodded tersely. “Indeed. There’s that.” She returned her gaze to the winter-brown lawn.
