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“I would not have you the subject of gossip,” he said.

“Oh, not gossip, Lord Trentham,” she said. “Speculation. The ton loves nothing more during the Season than to play matchmaker or at least to speculate upon who is paying court to whom and what the outcome is likely to be. Word will soon have it that you are courting me.”

“And that I am a presumptuous devil,” he said, “who ought to be strung up from the nearest tree by his thumbs.”

She smiled.

“There will of course be those who are outraged,” she said, “at you for your presumption, at me for encouraging it. And there will be those who are charmed by the romance of it all. There will be wagers made.”

Both his jaw and his eyes hardened.

“If you really wish to marry me,” she said, “you may court me through the coming Season, Lord Trentham. There will be ample opportunity—provided, of course, your sister pleases me and I please her.”

“You will marry me, then?” he asked, frowning.

“Very probably not,” she said. “But a marriage proposal is made after courtship, not before. Court me, then, and persuade me to change my mind if you do not change yours first.”

“How the devil,” he asked her, “am I to do that? I do not know the first thing about courtship.”

She smiled with the first genuine amusement she had felt for a long while.

“You are in your thirties,” she said. “It is time you learned.”

If he had looked hard-jawed before, he looked positively granite-jawed now. He gazed steadily at her.

Then he bowed again.

“If you would care to inform me after you have arrived in London,” he said, “I will wait upon you with my sister, ma’am.” “I shall look forward to it,” she said.

And he strode from the room and closed the door behind him.

Gwen sat gazing into the fire, her hands clasped very tightly in her lap.

Whatever had she done?

But she was not sorry, she realized. It would be … fun to launch a young girl upon the ton, especially a girl who was not of it. It would brighten the Season for her, make it different from all the rather tedious ones that had gone before it. It would rid her of the low spirits that had been dogging her. It would be a challenge.

And Hugo would be paying court to her.

Perhaps.

Oh, this was a colossal mistake.

But her heart was thumping with something very like excitement. And anticipation. She felt fully alive for the first time in a long, long while.

Chapter 13

Lauren joined Gwen in the library ten minutes later. She closed the door quietly and seated herself on a chair close to Gwen’s.

“We saw Lord Trentham stride away from the house in the pouring rain,” she said. “We waited for you to come back upstairs, but you did not. You refused him, Gwen?”

“I did, of course,” Gwen said, spreading her fingers in her lap. “It is what you all expected, was it not? And wanted?”

There was a slight pause.

“Gwen, this is me,” Lauren said.

Gwen looked up at her.

“I am sorry,” she said. “Yes, I refused him.”

Her cousin searched her eyes.

“There is more,” she said. “He has been the reason for your depression of late?”

“I have not been depressed,” Gwen protested. But Lauren just continued to look steadily at her. “Oh, I suppose I have been. I have been realizing that life is passing me by. I am thirty-two years old and single in a world where it is not comfortable to be single. Not for a woman, anyway. I have been thinking of looking for a husband in London this year. Or at least of considering anyone who cares to show an interest in me. Everyone in the family will be delighted, will they not?”

“You know we all will,” Lauren said. “But how would this decision have made you so low in spirits that you do not even want to talk?”

She definitely looked hurt, Gwen thought. She sighed.

“I fell in love with Lord Trentham when I was in Cornwall,” she said. “There. Is that what you want to hear? I … fell in love with him. And I discovered just ten days or so ago that I was not with child by him, and I was hugely relieved and mortally sad. And … Oh, Lauren, what am I going to do? I cannot seem to get him out of my mind. Or my heart.”

Lauren was gazing at her in silent amazement.

“There was a chance,” she said, “that you were with child? Gwen?”

“Not really,” Gwen said. “The physician told me after I miscarried eight years ago that I would never have children. And it happened only once in Cornwall. But that is not really your question, is it? The answer to your real question is yes. I did lie with him.”

Lauren leaned forward in her chair and reached out to touch the back of Gwen’s hand with her fingertips. She rubbed them back and forth before sitting back again.

“Tell me,” she said. “Tell everything. Start at the beginning and end here, with your reason for rejecting his marriage offer.”

“I have invited him to court me during the Season,” Gwen said, “with no guarantee that I will say yes if he renews his addresses at the end of it. That is not very fair of me, is it?”

Lauren sighed and then laughed.

“How typical of you to start at the end,” she said. “Start at the beginning.”

Gwen laughed too.

“Oh, Lauren,” she said, “how could I have resisted love all these years only to fall for an impossibility at the end of it all?”

“If I could fall in love with Kit, considering my frame of mind when I first saw him,” Lauren said, “and considering the fact that he was behaving most scandalously, stripped to the waist in the middle of Hyde Park for all the world to see while he fought with two laborers simultaneously and was using language that shocked me to the core—if I could fall in love with him anyway, Gwen, then why would you not fall in love with Lord Trentham?”

“But it is an impossibility,” Gwen said. “He has no real patience with the upper classes even though some of his dearest friends are aristocrats. He thinks us a frivolous, idle lot. He is middle-class and proud of it. And why should he not be? There is nothing inherently superior about us, is there? But I am not sure I could be the wife of a businessman, even a wealthy and successful one. Besides, there is a darkness in his soul, and I do not want to have to live with that again.”

“Again?” Lauren repeated softly.

Gwen looked down at her hands once more and said nothing.

“I am not saying another word,” Lauren said, “until you start at the beginning and tell me the whole story.”

Gwen told her everything.

And, strangely, they ended up convulsed with laughter over the way he had bungled his marriage proposal earlier by giving the impression that his only reason for asking her was so that his sister might attend a ton ball.

“I suppose,” Lauren said, drying her eyes, “you will be taking her to a ball?”

“I will,” Gwen said.

“It is a good thing I am still firmly in love with Kit,” Lauren said. “If I were not, I believe I might be falling a little in love with Lord Trentham myself.”