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Authors: Amelia Grey

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BOOK: Never a Bride
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“I assume this hasn’t hit the Society papers.”

“No, I don’t think so. But you know it’s only a matter of time before someone speaks to the right, or should I say the wrong, person.”

“I know Miss Whittingham would be crushed to hear of any gossip about her. I’ll try to see that doesn’t happen. Just because I delay a few years returning home, the gossipmongers think they can ruin her reputation. I won’t let it happen. The devil be damned. Is there no one else to talk about this Season, or is it because I’ve been gone so long the
ton
considered her fair game?”

Albert stirred in his chair uncomfortably. Camden enjoyed making Albert squirm. Knowing Miss Whittingham and her independent nature, she probably wouldn’t even appreciate that he was trying to help her. In fact, he was sure of it. She would tell him in no uncertain terms that she knew what she was doing, and that she didn’t need him to speak up for her.

“I’m not sure. Plenty of gossip to go around the
ton
from what I’ve heard. And I’m certainly not assuming any of the things I’ve heard about Miss Whittingham are true.”

“I should think not,” Camden said in disgust. “What rubbish the young bachelors spread about innocents these days. By the sound of things, I came home just in time to put a stop to this vilification. Please tell any and all who may approach you that Miss Whittingham is a lady with spotless character and above reproach.”

Albert took the glass from the server, nervous as a cat in a room full of dogs. “You’re certain of this?”

“Most certainly. I trust her implicitly,” he said, knowing that couldn’t be further from the truth. Mirabella had given him ample reason to not trust her, but there was no way he was going to let Albert know that.

“I think you might be a bit too accepting, Stonehurst, considering you’ve been gone for six years and considering your past with your first fiancée.”

Past indeed.
Maybe that was the reason he was defending Miss Whittingham so staunchly. He’d had one woman make a fool out of him in front of all Society. He’d be damned if he’d let another. If there was any way he could quell the rumors, he was going to do it.

Camden remained calm. “Talk was bound to happen. I stayed away too long. I can see that now. Miss Whittingham has told me she has flirted and danced with many gentlemen of the
ton
while I’ve been away. I’m perfectly fine with this, I assure you.”

“I trust your judgment, Stonehurst. I’ll say nothing more on the subject.”

“Thank you. If you hear any more such gossip smearing her good name, I know I can trust you to set the gossipmongers right immediately.”

Albert was obviously stunned by Camden’s reaction and didn’t speak right away.

“Can’t I?” Camden demanded, more forcibly than he should.

“Yes, by all means you can count on me, Camden. Oh, look. There’s Sir Billingsly. I’m to have a round of billiards with him. Would you excuse me?”

“Of course.”

“I must run now, Camden. I’ll see you by the by.” He rose and gave Camden a good-natured pat on his upper arm. “And welcome back.”

As soon as Albert had his back turned Camden downed his drink, emptying the glass. He must be the biggest of fools. The devil take him. What was he doing defending a woman who so obviously didn’t want it? She didn’t want any part of him, and didn’t deserve his protection. Mirabella had made it quite clear her reputation didn’t matter.

Damnation. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t want anyone knowing he’d been fooled by yet another young lady. He didn’t want anyone speaking ill of Mirabella. And he believed her when she said she had had no hope of his return. But how many young gentlemen had she kissed?

And what about her father? Did it matter to her if he knew she was being talked about in a way that would keep her from making a suitable match?

Blast it! Was he smitten by her?

Maybe he should try one more time to reason with her before he told his parents he had failed to win Miss Whittingham over. At this point he had nothing to lose. He was defending her anyway.

He remembered her words when he’d foolishly kissed her.
I feel as if I haven’t ever been kissed before you.

Those words had washed over him like warm water on a cold day. He remembered how easily her lips melted against his and how soft she felt pressed against his chest. He liked looking at the sparkle in her green eyes. He even liked the way she stood up to him and forced him to shoulder some of the blame for the situation she found herself in.

No, God help him, he wasn’t ready to give up on Miss Mirabella Whittingham.

Seven

“Lord Stonehurst, thank you for coming so quickly,” Mirabella said as the viscount handed his hat, gloves and overcoat to a servant.

Concern showed in his eyes. “How could I not? I had just arrived home when I received your message saying that it was urgent you speak to me before I talked to my father about our discussion.”

“Yes.” Mirabella paused and waited until the servant left the foyer before she continued. “It wasn’t my intention to worry you.”

“More intrigued, I would say.”

“No doubt.”

“You were adamant at the end of our last conversation.”

She caught her bottom lip for a moment. “Let’s go into the drawing room where we’ll have more privacy. It’s late for tea. Would you care for something stronger?”

“Do I need it to fortify me for what you are about to say?”

An amused smile played on his lips and in his eyes. It took her aback for a moment. Did he think this a game? “I believe you are flirting with me, sir.”

“Perhaps I am.”

So he wasn’t too angry with her for rejecting his proposal. “That’s very kind of you after the way I’ve treated you.”

“I’ve been dealt worse and lived through it.”

“I’m sure that’s true.”

“So, do I need that drink?”

Her tense mood lightened. How could she stay serious when he had such a delightful twinkle in his eyes? It certainly wasn’t there when he’d left her earlier that day.

She responded to his question by saying, “I believe you might want a shot of something, Lord Stonehurst. I’m thinking of asking you to remain engaged to me for a time.”

“Then by all means let me have a drink.”

Mirabella should have been nervous, but she wasn’t as she led him into the drawing room. She had hoped to be done with him but her father’s reaction to the viscount’s return had left her no choice but to ask him to do what he had suggested and renew their engagement.

“Shall I pour?” he asked.

“Please do.”

“How about you? Care for a sherry?”

“No, thank you. I’m fortified enough.”

Camden picked up the crystal decanter and poured, barely covering the bottom of the glass with the dark liquor. Obviously he didn’t need liquor to give him courage. That pleased her.

“If you will sit down, I’ll get right to the point. I don’t want to take up any more of your time than necessary.”

He remained standing by the sideboard and let his dark brown gaze sweep down her face. A tingle of awareness pricked her skin. His hat or the wind had blown a lock of his hair out of place, and she ached to walk over and comb it with her fingers for him.

“No hurry, Miss Whittingham. My social calendar isn’t yet full.” He touched the rim of the glass to his lips and sipped the drink without taking his gaze off her. “You look lovely tonight. What is that color of your dress? Yellow or beige?”

Mirabella looked down at her flounced skirt and saw that it shimmered elegantly in the candlelight. “I believe the dressmakers are calling it buttercream this year.”

“Yes, that’s the perfect name for it. Very becoming.” He took a seat on the floral-printed settee.

“Thank you.” She cleared her throat and said, “I now believe I might have been too hasty in making my decision not to continue with our engagement for a few months longer.”

“Really?” The corners of his lips twitched with humor.

He was teasing her, but she didn’t mind. “As surprising as it must be, considering how unbending I was earlier in the day, I find that your proposal now suits my needs. I would like to take you up on your offer.”

He didn’t say a word, only continued to search her face with a thoughtful expression, giving her reason to doubt her wisdom in approaching him.

Unable to wait him out, Mirabella hurried to say, “That is if the offer you made is still on the table, sir.”

“Just so we are clear on this, specifically, how did you remember the offer as being made?”

She thought back. “You suggested that we continue with the pretense of an engaged couple. We would attend parties and balls, stroll in the park, and take rides down Rotten Row. We would also make a few wedding plans to make it all seem very legitimate.”

“I remember it that way as well. Is this what you are proposing,” he paused, “or is it something more?”

An unexpected rush of anticipation filled Mirabella’s chest. She wondered if he were aware of how he affected her. “No, no more. Just as you had stated it.”

“Since you have come to me this time, I feel free to inquire what happened that you have so sudden a change of heart.”

“I agree. That’s a reasonable question, and it has a very simple answer. My father is the reason. I’m afraid I don’t have that rare courage you suspected me of having.”

His eyes narrowed. “How so?”

She took a seat in the oval-back, tapestry-covered armchair facing him. “My father has not been well recently. His physician has him on strong medication, and we hope that he will be well again, but as time progresses and there is little improvement, his future health is doubtful.”

“What is his problem?”

“The doctor says his heart is weak. He has very little energy to do the smallest tasks. Even though he has been ill, he has looked forward to your return with great anticipation.”

“Something you failed to do.”

She stiffened a little, but tried not to show it. “I didn’t give up on you, my lord, until after years of futile hope had passed.”

“Perhaps now you know that one must never give up hope.”

“If ever again I think I might, rest assured I will remember your unexpected return and renew my expectation with vigor.”

He lifted his drink in a toast to her and took a sip as their eyes met again and held. Lord Stonehurst was such a powerful looking man dressed in fawn-colored riding breeches, casually-styled cravat and black coat. Even though his words were a bit harsh, the sparkle never left his dark brown eyes. Mirabella felt an unexpected sense of loss, knowing she would never really be able to have a relationship of any significance with this gentleman.

He would surely be an easy man to get to know and banter with if fate hadn’t stepped in their way. She put aside thoughts of what might have been. The die had been cast, and she couldn’t go back and change her damaged reputation. Her only course was to go forward with her plans.

Mirabella cleared her throat. He kept leading her off the subject at hand. She had to focus. “This afternoon when I went up to visit with my father, I told him you had returned, but that I didn’t want to marry you. He refused to listen to any of my arguments about why we shouldn’t marry.”

“I assume not a one of your arguments was the truth.”

“All were truthful, sir, but none of them hinted at what you witnessed last night.”

“I’m sure.”

“My father was absolutely exuberant about the news of your arrival. I have not seen him this happy in years. He laughed out loud for the first time in many months.”

“I can see how much that pleased you by the glow that has lighted in your eyes.”

“Oh, yes.” She smiled at Camden. “It’s as if your returning has given my father a new lease on life. He now has reason to fight this weakness that grips him. I’m sure my father will live many more happy years, but he had convinced himself that his days were short. If you are still willing, I would like to continue the engagement until my father is well and better able to handle the truth of why we can’t possibly marry.”

“I see.”

“I hoped you would understand.”

He placed his glass on the table in front of him and asked, “What would you say if I told you that my offer was no longer available?”

Her smile slowly faded, her shoulders slumped ever so slightly. “I would be gravely disappointed.”

“And?”

“I would be forced to tell my father the truth of my recent actions and admit that you don’t want to marry me because of them.” A new urgency bolted inside her. Mirabella rose from her chair and seated herself on the settee beside him. “I would rather not put either of us through this unnecessary ruse, my lord. I have no great desire to falsely portray ourselves as something we’re not, an engaged couple. That is the main reason I declined your offer in the first place, but as you said, this would be good for both of us.”

“I did say that.”

“I believe that to be true. I really see no other way to make my father happy and give your father the time he needs to get his financial affairs in proper order.”

Camden listened intently, and then asked, “So now, if I don’t agree, you will be forced to tell your father the truth?”

“Yes.”

“And what exactly is the truth, Miss Whittingham?”

Was he trying to corner her for more details? “That I allowed certain liberties, a kiss or two.”
Or three.

“Is that the whole truth?”

“What do you mean?”

He leaned in close to her, lowered his voice and asked, “Just how many men have kissed you, Miss Whittingham?”

Mirabella didn’t shrink from his question or his imposing nearness which had her pulse racing. She didn’t know the answer to that question without looking at her list of suspects. Possibly eight or ten, but she couldn’t be sure because she hadn’t counted them.

They were only brief little kisses and embraces, lasting only long enough for her to slip her little finger down the gentleman’s neckcloth to search for a scar. Would he think any worse of her if he knew she was the one who had initiated the kisses from the young gentlemen?

“Obviously one was enough to ruin my reputation in your eyes and deem me unfit to be your bride, Lord Stonehurst. What would be the point in admitting to more?”

“So there were more than the one young man I saw with you last night?”

“Yes.” She lifted her shoulder to a more rigid pose. “Either your offer is still open, or it isn’t. Although I would be disappointed to do so, I’m quite prepared for us to go our separate ways.”

“I believe you are.”

He had keen, observant eyes, and he studied her thoroughly.

“You’re not going to let me forget that I rejected your earlier offer, are you?”

“No one likes rejection.”

“And no one knows that better than I. Believe me, I am now wishing I had been more generous with my sympathy when you were here this afternoon.”

“So do I, Miss Whittingham. My offer is good. Our engagement will not be broken right away.”

Mirabella let out a shaky breath. “Thank you,” she whispered softly.

“You are welcome.”

She moistened her lips and said, “I would like to make a stipulation.”

“You have some nerve, Miss Whittingham, wanting to add a stipulation after I’ve agreed to your counteroffer.”

“It’s one I think you will be pleased with.”

“I’m listening.”

“I would like for us to be completely honest with each other. There’s no reason for us to be coy or elusive since we both know this will be a ruse.”

“I like the sound of it.”

“I would like to ask that if at any time you feel you can’t go on with this subterfuge, you will give me time to speak to my father.”

“I concur.” He rubbed his chin absently. “Completely honest, you say?”

“Yes.”

“How many gentlemen have you kissed, Miss Whittingham?”

“Does the answer to that have a bearing on our agreement, or are you merely curious?”

“Given our promise to total honesty I have to admit to curiosity.”

“So our agreement stands no matter my answer.”

He pursed his lips attractively, causing Mirabella to capture her bottom lip with her teeth and hold it a moment before letting go. She remembered those beautiful lips of his massaging hers with demanding pressure. She remembered feeling things deep inside herself that she’d never felt before even though the kiss was very brief.

“I might end up regretting this, but yes, our agreement stands no matter your answer.”

“In that case, my complete honest answer is that I’ve said all I intend to say on the subject.”

Camden grinned. “You tricked me. I thought you were going to confess.”

“I didn’t trick you,” Mirabella said, feeling a good measure of satisfaction, and a breathless excitement that she was going to spend time with this man. “I answered you honestly.”

“I have a stipulation of my own.”

“What is that?” she asked, her voice a little huskier than she would have liked.

“I don’t want anyone to know that this is not a real engagement. This includes your uncle, your maid, your friends, or anyone else you might be tempted to confide in.”

“I think that is a very good idea.”

“Good. Since you are my fiancée, I think you should call me Camden, and I will refer to you as Mirabella.”

She liked the way he said her name with an American flavor to the roll of it. “Very well.”

“I also think we both should skip the parties for the next few nights and attend the Chesterfields’ soiree on Saturday night. Everyone we know should be at that one. I’ll see to it that my parents and my brother attend, and I’ll make a point of introducing you to them.”

“That sounds the sensible thing to do.”

“I think Mr. Hornbeck should continue to escort you to the events and chaperone you.”

“I think he will agree to that.”

“I want you to arrive exactly at half past ten. Wait in the foyer until I come for you. The more people who know you have arrived, the better. Your entrance will be when I go and claim your hand.”

“I understand.”

“This will be a signal to the
ton
that my entire family is in agreement and happy about this engagement. That should help stanch the flow of gossip about you that’s making the rounds.”

“It’s most kind of you to do this, Lord Stonehurst. After seeing how happy my father was, I dreaded telling him about the incident you witnessed last evening.”

“It’s Camden, remember? And I don’t expect there will be a repeat of anything that happened while I was away.”

“You have my word on that.” Her kissing days were over. Now that Camden had shown her what kissing was really like, she couldn’t bear the thought of any other man pressing his lips to hers.

BOOK: Never a Bride
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