“Goodness. I can certainly see why you’d want to attach yourself to him more permanently,” Lady Katherine said while selecting some ham from the platter. “Personally, I’ve always found him to be the most handsome man in London and the most charming one too. It does not surprise me to learn that he’d swoop in to save a lady in distress, but to offer marriage… You must be well connected indeed.”
“I can make no such claim,” Calista told her without batting an eyelash. “On the contrary, I’d say I’m rather ordinary.”
A snicker escaped Lady Katherine while Grafton quietly chuckled. He pressed his knee against Calista’s under the table, forcing her to scoot back and turn away from him at an angle.
“I disagree,” Mr. Donahue murmured, his gaze fixed on Calista now with unwavering intensity. “There’s nothing ordinary about you, Miss Smith. In fact, it is my honest opinion that you are the most remarkable woman I’ve ever known. Hence my reason for wanting to make you my wife.”
Calista gaped at him. Heavens, she could almost feel herself melting in response to the certainty with which he spoke. Her heart fluttered with eager hopefulness even though logic decreed he was merely playing along. And so was she, she reminded herself. To even consider for one second that Mr. Donahue might want to marry her in earnest or that she had the freedom to accept such an offer would be foolish on her part.
Lady Katherine frowned while scrutinizing Calista in greater detail. “Well, she is pretty, but beyond that I cannot fathom your reasoning, Mr. Donahue. I mean, considering your position within Society – your being the son of an earl and successful in your own right – you could have an earl’s daughter for your wife, if you wanted.”
“I’m sure you have a particular lady in mind,” Mr. Donahue told her dryly, “but the things of it is, I love Miss Smith, so nothing anyone says could ever sway me in the decision I’ve made to spend the rest of my life with her.”
Silence descended as everyone, Calista especially, came to grips with this statement – the latest in what was swiftly becoming a long series of unexpected ones made that evening. Uncomfortably aware of being gawked at, she attempted a smile while taking a hasty sip of champagne, followed by another. Lord help her, she needed to soothe her nerves, for if there was one thing her heart didn’t need, it was to believe him. Yet she very much feared that with every heated glance he sent her way and every word he spoke, he was pulling her closer to an edge she must stay away from. Because if she fell…
It’s just pretend. Nothing more.
A bell rang, interrupting Calista’s riotous thoughts.
“The cascade will begin soon,” Mr. Donahue said. He stood, rounded the table, and offered Calista his hand. “It’s a spectacle not to be missed.”
“We should join you,” Lady Katherine said.
“No,” Mr. Donahue told her firmly. “There’s still plenty of food here as well as champagne. No sense in squandering it.”
For the first time since arriving, Lady Katherine appeared to relent. Calista placed her hand in Mr. Donahue’s and rose, happy to finally make her escape.
Grafton got up as well. “A delight, Miss Smith. I hope our paths shall cross again in the future. Perhaps once you are married…”
The overt suggestion ought to have earned him a punch to the nose. Instead, Calista murmured some bland words of parting and prayed she’d never lay eyes on him or his sister ever again.
“I’m so sorry,” Mr. Donahue said once they’d left the supper boxes behind and turned down a gas-lit path flanked by tall trees. “This was not how I envisioned our evening.”
“You mean with a hasty engagement and declarations of love?” Calista teased, though a tiny part of her stupidly hoped his words had been genuine.
“Exactly,” he said, banishing all pretense. “I saw your discomfort as soon as I spoke.”
“Your announcement was unexpected,” she told him.
“Do you think they believed it?”
“Without question.” She dared a glance in his direction, but his features were cast in shadow, making them hard to read. “You were extremely convincing.”
“Good.” He spoke the word harshly, as though there were still a great deal of anger roiling inside him.
Deciding it might be best not to comment, Calista kept quiet while he led her onward.
20
Steven had never considered himself prone to anger. He always kept a cool head, applying rational thinking to every challenge he faced. Yet tonight, watching Grafton flirt with Miss Faulkner and practically proposition her had prompted a flash of red to cloud his vision. He’d wanted to grab the loathsome man by his throat until his eyes began to bulge from that arrogant head of his. He’d wanted to pull Miss Faulkner into his lap and guard her before raining kisses upon her lovely mouth.
Since both of those options would have resulted in scandal, he’d done the next best thing he could think of and claimed her for himself. By declaring her his betrothed and saying he loved her.
It had been a spur of the moment statement and yet he could not deny that it came from a place of complete and utter honesty. Marriage had never been something he’d thought to consider. As for love, he loved his family, Nigel included despite their differences, but he’d never believed in romantic love.
Until now.
When it came to Miss Faulkner, he knew there might be a chance of his feelings for her expanding into such powerful emotion.
His stomach tightened on that thought and he instinctively dropped a glance at the lady who strolled by his side. She was a marvel to him in every way and when he thought of her leaving him soon, his heart protested. But what could he do? She’d not reciprocated the sentiment even in jest. Instead, she’d referenced it with a lightness that would suggest she thought it a grand deception without placing further weight on it.
For as long as he could remember, he’d had one singular goal – to build the grandest hotel in London and take his vision to other cities.
Now there was something else. A growing need for more than just work.
Reaching the waterfall site, he helped Miss Faulkner navigate the growing crowd so she would have a clear view. Together, they found the perfect spot at the front and as they settled in to watch the display, he was conscious of how perfect her hand felt upon his arm. Unable to resist he glanced at her, only to be dazzled by the wonder in her eyes. And as the curtains were swept aside and everyone gasped in response to the light bouncing off sheets of moving metal in lifelike imitation of cascading water, realization struck him squarely in the gut.
Calista Faulkner mattered to him. He cared for her, needed her in ways he’d never needed anyone before, both for companionship but also for support. She made his days brighter, eagerly helped him with his work in order to lessen his burden, marveled at his achievements, reminded him how to have fun, and never seemed to expect anything in return.
Steven swallowed past the thickness in his throat while applause erupted around him. Hell, he suspected he might already be halfway in love with her. A frightening prospect to be sure considering she had to leave for the purpose of marrying someone else. Unless he convinced her otherwise. After all, he could easily afford to pay the sum to settle her father’s debts. Perhaps then—