Christine Merrill - A Convenient Bride For The Soldier

‘Indeed,’ he said, not bothering to spare her feelings. ‘And dragged me into it as well. I will have to answer for our secret engagement and our sexual game playing in a club frequented by the more louche half of the ton.’

‘Oh, dear.’ She did not like the man, but she had never intended to include him in her personal problems. Then she remembered the conversation that had just occurred. ‘I did not ask you to lie for me.’

‘Nor did you denounce me when I did,’ he reminded her. ‘You were more than willing to hide in my shadow and allow me to take the blame for this debacle. Now you know what you must do to make it right.’

‘In truth, I do not.’ There was not a way forward that did not lead to disaster.

Mr Challenger dropped to his knee before her. ‘Miss Knight, would you do me the honour of accepting my offer of marriage?’

She had heard the phrase, ‘without a trace of irony’. This must be the opposite of it. The proposal was delivered without a trace of sincerity. And yet, he did not rise. He stared at her, grim-faced, awaiting an answer.

‘But, I do not want to marry you,’ she said, staring back at him incredulous.

‘Nor do I want to marry you.’ If possible, his expression became even more threatening. ‘But as you said before, if word of this gets out, I will be called to offer for you. I see no other way to save both of our reputations.’

‘Your reputation?’ Did men even have them? Of course they did. But she was sure that it did not mean the same thing as it did for girls.

‘If you do not marry me, I will be seen as the villain who threatened you, a seducer of innocents. Bowles, on the other hand, will be cast as your rescuer. In either case, your future is set. You will have to marry one of us to avoid ruin.’ The statement was followed by the audible grinding of teeth. ‘Please, my dear Miss Knight, allow me to be the lesser of two evils.’

The idea was insane. ‘But then, we would be married,’ she reminded him. ‘For ever,’ she added, when the first statement seemed to have no impact upon him.

‘That is the way it normally works,’ he agreed. ‘You must have understood the risk when you undertook this desperate mission. As I told you before, if you do not marry me, then you shall wed Bowles.’ He looked at her for the length of a breath, then added, ‘For ever.’

‘For ever,’ she repeated. It sounded so final. Eventually, she had known she would have to marry someone. She’d just never imagined it would be to a man who had never been willing to give her the time of day, much less a proposal. But marriage to Nash would be every bit as final and infinitely more horrifying.

Mr Challenger gave an impatient huff, as if it had never occurred to him that the woman he offered for would not accept him without question. ‘I do not like the idea any better than you do. But if we are reasonable about the business, we need have very little to do with each other, once we are married.’

‘And that is what you consider a proper match,’ she said. Even at their worst, her father and Marietta had a better union than that.

He continued, oblivious to her criticism. ‘I am a second son. It is not as if I am required to produce an heir. I did not intend to marry. I have no interest in tying myself to a single woman until death. But as long as you do not get in the way of my life, I see no reason why I should not. And it will prevent my sister-in-law from trying to match me up with someone in the future.’ Now he was smiling at this small advantage.

‘I am glad you are warming to the idea,’ she said. He had no right to be happy about a reversal of fortune that would leave her shackled to an annoying stranger.

‘We will get a special licence and be married by week’s end. After a brief period of celebration, you may retire to my country home, free of the attentions of Bowles.’

And now, he was organising her life. ‘I have not said yes,’ she reminded him.

‘It would be foolish to say no,’ he replied.

Perhaps so. But she wanted to say it, all the same.

That was not true. She wanted to shout the word directly into his smug face. She had disliked him from the first moment she’d seen him. Or the second moment, at least. When she had looked across the room at him that first time, she had thought him handsome, heroic, and sophisticated. Then, Marietta had ruined it and he’d proved he was also arrogant, snobbish, and dictatorial.

‘If you do refuse me, there is always Nash Bowles,’ he reminded her again in that mockingly reasonable voice she might be hearing every day for the rest of her life, since she could think of no other way out of this mess than the one he had presented to her.

‘Nothing would be as bad as marrying Sir Nash,’ she agreed. ‘Not even marrying you.’ She could not resist adding the final riposte and was pleased to see the flash of annoyance in his eyes.

‘You are no gift, either,’ he said, not bothering with courtesy. ‘But if you will promise to leave me alone afterward, I am willing to do the right thing and save you.’

He spoke as if she was a gnat to be waved away, or an annoying child who needed to be sent back to the nursery. ‘I am willing to accept,’ she said, holding her head high and giving him a cold look that would tell him he was twice as bothersome as she could ever be. ‘If you will swear to leave me alone as well.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘Do not worry yourself, Miss Knight. I have no intention of disturbing your privacy.’ There was a significance in his tone that she did not fully understand. It was as if her request had actually hurt him in some way that all her other insults had not.

She gave him what she hoped was a worldly smile, that he might think she had intended what had just changed between them. But, in truth, she did not. It probably had something to do with the things he’d threatened her with when he’d rescued her, if one could even call that a rescue.

Did married people ravish each other? That did not sound right. She could not imagine her father and stepmother ever did. And she was quite sure she did not want to ravish Mr Challenger.

There were paintings on the walls of this very room that showed scenes similar to those on Sir Nash’s snuffbox. But they had to be exaggerations. There were far too many satyrs involved and she seriously doubted that the men of London were actually hiding cloven hooves inside their boots.

Her future husband had turned his back on her speculating and walked to a corner of the room to pull on a bell rope. He did not turn back to her as they waited for the arrival of the servant he’d summoned, leaving her nothing more than silence and a view of his rigid spine and squared shoulders. If he would only relax, just a little, she’d have admired the masculinity of his frame. But at the moment he looked less like an embodiment of strength and more like a man who had just been caned and was braced to take the next blow without flinching.

By the time a maid appeared, the rigidness he displayed had passed to George like an infection. If they did not find some way to manage with each other, when the time came to marry, they would look more like waxworks than human beings.

Mr Challenger turned and addressed the maid with military stiffness. ‘Rose, take Miss Knight to the dressing rooms and find her clothing appropriate for a lady. Then see to it that Snyder gets her out of the club and away before anyone knows of her presence here.’

The girl gave a quick curtsy of assent.

Mr Challenger turned back to her with a smooth half pivot. ‘I will call on your father in the morning. Once I have his assent, I will take care of the licence and the matter will be settled in no time.’ Even though they were only in the presence of a servant, he offered a deep bow. It had none of the irony that his earlier proposal had held. But there was a mechanical quality to the movement that made her think of the tin man who appeared on the hour out of their mantel clock back home. ‘Until I see you again, Miss Knight.’