Page 66 of When the Viscount Seduces
“Regardless, that is what will happen. And given Somerton’s reputation, people will likely believe it.” her father said. “I’ve sent word to Markwith that we’d like to negotiate a marriage settlement as soon as possible. I understand he will return Monday.”
Gwen felt as though she’d been plunged into an icy river and was fighting to keep her head above water. “Why Markwith?” She even sounded as though she were struggling to breathe.
“I thought you perchance liked him best,” her mother said with a faint smile. “I’m sorry it’s come to this, my dear. It’s time you wed.”
Gwen couldn’t agree more. Only, she wanted a different groom. “Can’t we just say that Eberforce is lying because he’s holding a grudge? Intelligent people will know he’s being spiteful.” Over a waistcoat! He would destroy Gwen’s reputation for a ruined garment.
Her father cleared his throat. “Be that as it may, I don’t think you can weather that scandal. If it were some other gentleman, we would have an easier time of it. However, Somerton has a particular reputation, and he paid you attention until recently. It will not be a stretch for some people to believe this.” He narrowed one eye at her. “You are telling us the truth, aren’t you? There is nothing between you and the viscount?”
How Gwen wished there were. “There is nothing between us,” she said quietly.
Her mother looked at her father. “I told you that was highly unlikely, dear.”
Gwen wanted to ask why. Because she wasn’t the type of woman Lazarus would want? Well, as it happened, she wasn’t. At least not for more than a fleeting moment. It seemed he really was the rogue he claimed to be. Gwen had fallen completely under his spell. She’d forsaken the rules she’d vowed to follow, and now she would pay the price with a hasty marriage to a man she didn’t love. She would also make her parents happy in doing so, and wasn’t that what she wanted most?
Perhaps not.
“In any case, you will no longer be calling on your friend Lady Droxford,” her father announced as he stood. “Hopefully, you will be wed by June, and then you can visit whomever you please.”
Gwen’s mother rose and looked at Gwen with an encouraging smile. “Markwith will be a wonderful husband. I can see how much he enjoys your company.”
“And he has ten thousand a year, so you will be quite comfortable,” her father added. “I daresay you will also be happy. It seems the two of you share many things in common. I must say I am pleased to see you with someone who possesses a sharp intelligence and appreciation for academic endeavors.”
What he meant was that Markwith would support Gwen’s reading addiction, which many gentlemen would not. That he seemed genuinely happy for her was nice, but Gwen didn’t want to marry Markwith. She didn’t love him.
Gwen looked at the floor and prayed she wouldn’t cry. “Does it matter that I am not in love with Mr. Markwith?”
“Your emotions may yet decide otherwise,” her mother said. “I did not reciprocate your father’s affection until we were nearly wed—long after the betrothal.” She gave him a sweet, love-filled smile.
Her mother’s experience did not give her hope, however. Gwen was already in love and couldn’t imagine feeling that way about anyone else. And certainly not in the next several weeks before she would apparently wed Mr. Markwith.
How could this be happening?
Gwen’s headache intensified. She wished she’d asked Badge to make that tonic.
“That is settled, then,” her father said. “Let us depart.” He gestured toward the door, and her mother waited for Gwen to precede them from the study.
So, she was just supposed to carry on with the evening as if her life hadn’t been decided without her input? Why did she even need to go to the infernal ball if her engagement was all but finalized?
Because her father wanted them all to go. Even her brother would be there.
Taking a deep breath that did nothing to calm herself, Gwen opened the door and left the study. She’d already felt raw after seeing Lazarus earlier. Now she was numb.
She would need to set aside the love in her heart and look to a future she didn’t want.
CHAPTER 15
For perhaps the first time ever, Lazarus was attending a ball with the sole purpose of speaking with someone about a parliamentary matter. Droxford would be exceedingly proud.
He arrived relatively early, hoping to complete his errand and be gone before he ran into someone troublesome. Such as Miss Worsley or her mother. Or Gwen. Though, truth be told, he wouldn’t mind observing the latter from afar. Or pining, such as the case may be.
Shefford happened to be there too and approached him with a nod. “I sent my man on his way. I hope you were able to find some rest.”
“Thank you,” Lazarus said. Rest was beyond him at this point. He had tried working on the reading exercise Gwen had given him that afternoon, but his mind was too preoccupied. It hadn’t been another love poem, unfortunately, but a passage from a scientific pamphlet. She’d explained that it would be good for him to read a variety of things. He could not fault her logic.
Indeed, he couldn’t find anything to fault with her at all. She was perfect in every way.
“You here looking for someone?” Shefford watched him. “You keep scanning the ballroom.”
