She didn’t answer, and he went on, “At Covent Garden, the things you told me indicated that you were concerned about what they’d think of me, and you were concerned about my future happiness, and while I think all of that is true, I also think that’s not the whole story. Why don’t you tell me the rest? Why are you really so afraid?”
She still didn’t answer, and he decided to let it go. He had a plan, and he had a great deal more to do in order to carry it out. He picked up his waistcoat, buttoned it, and reached for his jacket.
“I have to go,” he said gently. She nodded, but she didn’t reply and she didn’t look up, and he wondered if perhaps he ought to hold off, give her more time. But then, her voice came to him from across the room, soft and hushed. “Don’t you know the reason?”
His hand tightened around the jacket in his hand. “I could hazard a guess,” he murmured, studying her bent head and her tumbled hair. “I could say it’s because everyone you’ve ever loved has abandoned or discarded you.”
A faint sob told him he was on the right track. “I could go a bit further,” he went on as he crossed to the bed, “and say that you’re terrified I’ll do the same.” He cupped her cheek and lifted her face. “That I’ll grow tired of you, and fall out of love with you, and take a mistress.”
A tear fell down her cheek, and he brushed it away with his thumb. “I shan’t,” he said, and let her go. “You’ll have to take my word for that, of course, but . . .” He shrugged and slipped on his jacket. “There it is. I’m asking you to trust me.”
“It’s not about trust. It’s about the way the world works.”
“You really think my family won’t accept you if we marry?”
“I know they won’t. Your father . . .” She swallowed hard, and Denys braced himself for more obstacles. “Denys, he called me a whore.”
Rage exploded inside him even though he didn’t move, and it was several moments before he could control it enough to speak. “He never will again. That I promise you. I will make certain he understands that if he utters one more derogatory word about you, he will have crossed the Rubicon.”
“Oh, no,” she moaned. “I never should have told you. I won’t let you do this. I won’t let you choose me over your family.”
“I already did. I made my choice that afternoon in St. John’s Wood, when I walked across that sidewalk and stepped into that cab. I chose you.”
She shook her head, refusing to believe, and he decided it was time to roll the dice and let the chips fall where they would. “Let’s put your lack of faith in my family to the test, shall we? I’m having a private dinner with them this evening, here at the Savoy. Consider this your formal invitation to join us.”
She stared at him, eyes widening in panic. “I can’t do that!”
“Yes, you can. It’s very simple. You put on a pretty gown, you come downstairs, and you tell the maître d’hôtel you are with Lord Somerton’s party. I’ll be sure he knows to expect you. He will escort you to the door, he’ll announce you, and you’ll walk in. All very simple.”
“And then all hell breaks loose,” she mumbled. “Your father will never allow me to sit at your table.”
“It’s not up to him to allow it or not. I am the host, so his only choice is to stay or go. If he doesn’t wish for our company, he’s free to stand up and walk out.”
“Denys—”
He sank down on the edge of the bed, and when she tried to turn away, he grabbed her arms. “You said you love me. Did you mean it? If you did, then prove it. Come down and face them. Run that gauntlet.”
“I don’t think I can.”
“Yes, you can, because you are braver than you think.”
“I’m not brave at all.”
“But you are. Good God, you are, and you don’t even see it. You fought off a man who wanted to assault you. You threw wine in a senator’s face. You went halfway around the world to become a French cancan dancer when you didn’t know French or the cancan. You decided to become an actress when you didn’t know how to act. And after a humiliating failure, you walked out on stage last night to face an audience that fully expected you to fail again, and you proved all of them wrong about you. And you don’t think you’re brave enough to take on my family? Darling, give yourself a little credit.”
“But it wouldn’t just be your family. It would be the world. Your world, Denys.”
“That’s true, and it won’t be all beer and skittles for you if you marry me, I grant you, even if we manage to win over my family. It will take courage and fortitude and a very strong will to face down the ton. Many of them will be cold, hostile, even vicious. They will say unbelievably cruel things about you and to you.”
“And to you!”
“Yes,” he admitted. “And it may very well last the rest of our lives. But I’m asking you to do it anyway. And you won’t be alone, for I will be by your side every step of the way. On the other hand . . .” He paused and stood up. “You could take the easy way out. You could buy a steamship ticket and go somewhere else and change your name and repeat the pattern of your life. It’s your choice, my love.”
He raked a hand through her hair, pulled her head back, and bent down to kiss her. “Dinner is at quarter past eight,” he said. Then he let her go, turned away, and walked to the door. Opening it, he paused and looked back at her over one shoulder. “If you’re coming, don’t be late. Among my set, being late for dinner is just not done. If you’re not coming . . .” He took a deep breath. “Then God help me.”
With that, he walked out and closed the door behind him, but before heading down the corridor to the lift, he paused to say a little prayer, for he knew that right now, he needed all the help he could get.
Lola sat on the bed, staring at the doorway. He’d barely departed, but already, she knew Denys was right.
She had a very clear choice to make: another ticket out of town and another fresh start, or a whole new life that would be unlike anything she’d ever experienced before.
Being Denys’s viscountess would be the hardest thing she’d ever taken on, much harder than learning the cancan or training as an actress—harder, even, than taking off her clothes for randy sailors. She’d be facing an audience harsher than any London critics had ever been, and she’d be more exposed than she’d ever been in any dockside tavern. And she’d never, ever, be able to run away.
And with that thought, as quick as the flare of a match or the snap of one’s fingers, her choice was made.
She didn’t want to run. She wanted to stay. Because she wanted to believe that happy endings did exist. And because she hated walking away from a challenge just because it scared her. But most of all, she wanted to stay because Denys loved her, and she loved him. She’d always loved him. And she was not going to run away from that. Not this time. Hell, no.
She’d go to this dinner party, and she’d walk the ton’s gauntlet, and she’d live with him and be his wife, and if his family didn’t accept them, and society scorned them, that would have to be their loss.
She shoved aside the sheets and stood up, but she’d barely taken one step before a whole new question ran through her mind, a question that was of such importance, it stopped her in her tracks. Tonight might very well be the most important night of her life, and that forced her to face the same awful, agonizing question that had plagued women in this sort of situation throughout history.