Mary Moore - Accidental Fiancee

Breakfast turned into lunch as they struggled to concoct a narrative of their courtship that would satisfy Society and not violate Grace’s innate honesty. She feared they would need to postpone their departure one more day.

Lord, please forgive me for putting all of us in such an awkward situation. Proverbs says, “A man’s heart deviseth his way: but the Lord directeth his steps.” I have erred by trying to direct the lives of others. Please lead us through this in Your way, protecting our path.

By luncheon, they had decided on a plausible way to explain how they had met. They would say Grace’s father and Lord Weston had a mutual interest in the Elgin Marbles, which was true. When Lord Weston and Grace met, their speedy courtship had followed, which was also true.

It was then that Lydia, sitting on a bench watching travelers through the window, broke in on the discussion, “Grace, will you tell people that Lord Weston has fallen in love with you?”

“What?” The exclamation in response came from both Grace and Lord Weston at the same time.

In a much smaller voice Lydia answered, “I only meant... I did not know... Well, why else would you become betrothed?”

“I could have just as easily decided your sister would make me a proper marchioness after meeting her.”

Grace became unusually quiet. She did not know how to answer that question, and to own the truth, the idea of it made her nervous somehow.

But Lydia suddenly overcame her fear of him. “Do you not see, my lord, it is that which will make the story work—the idea that Grace reformed the unreformable rake.”

His lordship’s only reply was to roll his eyes.

Grace finally spoke, but with such a blush she could barely look at him. “I am beginning to believe Lydia has the right of it.” She saw the surge of anger starting to overtake him, and continued quickly. “You were on the verge of making a marriage of convenience in the Little Season. Why would you change your mind from a known individual to an unknown one in midstream?” She avoided his eyes. “I believe the only reason you would do such a thing must be a change in your...feelings.”

He looked at her intently, then said quietly, “As usual, my practical and levelheaded delight, you are correct. And do not think I appreciate it!” He smiled at her, but he also ran his hand through his hair, still visibly uncomfortable with this scenario. Fortunately, he did not see her blanch at the endearment. He had called Lydia his fair beauty. She was practical and levelheaded. It was the first time those words coupled with her name had ever bothered her.

“Very well, I have developed a tendre for Grace. What would it be based on?”

This time she actually groaned. “I am persuaded if my ego survives this discussion, it will be no thanks to you.”

He smiled at her, got down on one knee next to her chair and took her hand. “My dear Lady Grace, I did not mean that the way it sounded. What I meant was, despite your undeniable charms, we must find the thing, the one thing that would make me want to marry you, when I have always considered marriage a miserable prospect.” He had been looking deep into her eyes and now kissed the hand he was holding. “My aversion to marriage, and marriage to an...innocent, is common knowledge.”

“Oh, do stop flirting with me, you rogue, and make up something dazzling about me. You are the expert on women!” she said, pulling her hand from his clasp.

Was saving Lydia’s Season worth this?

* * *

It was at that moment that Brandon realized, if he could not get out of this incredible fiasco, that she would be the perfect candidate for a marriage of convenience. The thought surprised him, but indeed, she had every attribute he would seek in a wife.

She was not an ethereal beauty as her sister was, but he had already decided she was the more handsome of the two.

She had wit and intelligence, and could hold her own in any conversation with him. She made him laugh.

He found, of a sudden, he would be interested in her views on many topics, and he could think of worse ways to spend an evening than in her company. He could also see her easily being included in the business endeavor he and Dennis had begun under the aegis of Lord Langdon.

“Perhaps it is not one thing that would make me choose you.” He nodded his head as he walked around the room, thinking out loud. “Maybe it is what we have just been saying. You are quite different than my usual style, and that in itself could be enough. Most of those close to me know it is the sameness in women that bores me.”

He stopped pacing and said with serious foreboding, “Very well, I will play the reformed rake. I know it will be hard, even awkward at times, but it will only be for a few weeks. I think it will serve.”

“Oh, dear, I am losing my mind. We cannot tell people we are in love! The ton would laugh us out of Town.” Then she said, less heated, “And it is a lie.”

He began to realize that the faith she touted could cause some problems. It was more than a walk to a village church on Sundays. The thought of even telling a little white lie made her unhappy. He did not understand it, but he did not like to see her so troubled.

“Lydia?” he asked politely. “Will you leave us for a moment? I need to talk to your sister alone.”

* * *

Lydia did as she was bade, and as he closed the door behind her, Grace walked over to the window and looked out. She felt chilled to the bone, but it was a beautiful March day, so she knew it was not from the weather. She spoke, still staring out, “How I wish I was at home and all of this was a terrible nightmare.”

He walked up behind her and lightly took her by the shoulders to turn her to face him.

“Look at me, Grace,” he said in a low voice. She glanced up at him in surprise. It was another tone of voice she had not heard him use before. “This is not meant to offend you, but I wish to show you something.” He pulled her a little closer and continued to gaze into her eyes. “Do you know, Lady Grace, it is good that you do not lie, because you say the most amazing things with your eyes.” She did not notice that his face moved infinitesimally closer to hers as their gazes remained locked.

He was speaking in a mesmerizing voice, low and subtle, and she was shocked when he very lightly touched his lips to hers. It was her first kiss. She did not even know it was coming, and her surprise turned to shock. He immediately drew back and her eyes widened at the realization of what had happened.

“What can you be about, my lord? How dare you take such liberties? I trusted you!” She was rambling, but she was angry and confused. She could still feel his lips, the sensation was odd but so tender. Yet tender was the last word she would ever use to describe him.

His eyes, only moments before so close to hers, changed, then he took a step back and straightened the cuffs of his coat. “I am sorry if I frightened you. I needed to show you that we shall have no problem proclaiming a relationship...without any words at all. Of course, most in London will never see such scenes, but it is obvious that we can be convincing as a couple for the amount of time you need to get Lydia married off.” He turned, walked to the table and finished the cup of coffee he’d nursed earlier.

It had all been a game! The kiss was to show her that he could make her fall in love with him! Her fists balled in rage. “How dare you?” she growled in anger. “I have known you less than twenty-four hours!” She did not want her first kiss to be part of a game. It had come and gone, and meant nothing to him.