“S-Surprised?” she stammered, the word squeaked rather than spoken.
“By your note,” he said gently. “The one that asked me to meet you here.”
She gasped and grabbed hold of the chair she was standing beside, looking as if she might faint. “Oh, good heavens.”
Ludo rushed towards her and slid his arm about her waist before she collapsed.
“What are you doing?” she asked, looking more astonished than alarmed.
“I was afraid you might swoon.”
“I never swoon,” she retorted indignantly, and then panic filled her eyes. “Oh, oh no. Oh, Lord Courtenay, you must leave—”
Before another word could be spoken, the door burst open and the Ratched sisters appeared, with what appeared to be half of the guests in tow.
“Oh, Miss Bunting!” Sylvia shrieked dramatically. “Oh, and with… with him of all men!”
Ludo jolted. Good God. It was a trap. Felicity Bunting had trapped him into marrying her! He waited for the anger to hit him, the outrage and fury at being so manoeuvred.
It never came.
All he could think was… she wants me. Not for just a night. Not just for a bit of bed sport. She wanted to marry him. Why, he had no idea. God knew he was no catch. He had no fortune, no prospects, so that could only mean one thing.
She wanted him.
His breath caught and he almost laughed as he turned back to look at her, wanting to tell her yes, yes, he would marry her happily. Yet she did not look the least bit triumphant about her victory. She looked pale and horrified.
“I’m so terribly sorry. It was supposed to be Tommy,” she whispered, obviously mortified. “Not you.”
Ludo knew this was undoubtedly the most miserable night of his entire life and, bearing in mind the quality of options on offer, that was saying something. He’d reached a new low, and no mistake. Not only had Miss Bunting not intended to trap him into marriage, but she would ruin herself rather than marry him at all.
Well, he’d damn well see about that.
Her parents had ushered her away from the party, and from him, before he could speak two words to them, but he lost no time in discovering their address and following them home. He would marry Felicity Bunting if it was the last thing he did. She had just ruined herself in front of the entire ton. She’d never get another offer. Like it or not, he was her best chance. Admittedly, that wasn’t saying much, but it was the truth. He would give her the protection of his name and perhaps… perhaps in time….
He swallowed down the hope that rose in his chest and told himself not to be so bloody pitiful. Look where hope had gotten him this evening. He’d be a fool to expect anything good to come of this, except it already seemed he was a damned fool… for he wanted her too badly to let anything stand in his way.
Now, standing before her father in their front parlour, with Miss Bunting and her mother watching with frightened eyes from the other side of the room, he felt every bit the dastardly monster the ton had painted him. Not that he hadn’t encouraged the rumours, but it was too late to lament.
He studied her as her father explained they would marry the day after tomorrow. She looked to be on the verge of tears and, despite everything, Ludo’s heart went out to her. God alone knew what kind of man she believed him to be. She would have read the gossip sheets like everyone else; she would know of all his years of wickedness and vice. No doubt she thought she was marrying a vile fiend who would make her life a misery. Perhaps he was a vile fiend. He could not claim that all those stories had been untrue, for they each had some amount of truth in them, even if they’d been wildly exaggerated. Yet, he would try to be better. He would try to be a good man. Once Ludo had explained his situation, Miss Bunting’s father had made no bones about his displeasure, pointing out that his daughter was getting a bad bargain indeed, but Ludo had spent the last year clearing his debts and trying to get his finances in order. He was in no position to provide for a wife, but he would try. He would find a way to give her a home. A home. The idea called to some place deep inside him he had buried years ago. He had not known what it was to have a home. Not since his mother had died, at least.
Miss Bunting had a reasonable dowry, more than anything he might have expected to gain through marriage, considering his prospects, but the idea of living off her money made his stomach clench, and shame rose in him like a tide. He would be better than that.
“Papa, do you think we might have a few moments alone together, please?”
Ludo looked up in surprise as he realised Miss Bunting had made the request. How brave she was. She was miserable and afraid, but she would not shy away from him. Thank God for that.
Her father looked none too happy about it.
“Mr Bunting,” Ludo said, somewhat testy now. He was the one who’d been trapped, after all. “We shall soon be married, and I promise to act the gentleman. I do have a vague recollection of how to do so.”
Mr Bunting gave him a dark look filled with mistrust, but nodded his agreement and escorted his wife from the room.
Ludo’s heart began pounding again as he turned back to his fiancée. She swallowed hard and Ludo wondered if she might be sick.
“You must hate me,” she said, staring at her feet.
Ludo hesitated, wondering what to say to her. Honesty seemed the best idea, yet he was afraid to say too much, to let her see how badly he wanted this.
“I don’t hate you.”
She looked up at him then, her lovely brown eyes filled with sorrow. “How can you say that? I have ruined your life. I imagine the last thing you ever wanted was a wife, let alone… let alone one like me.”
That last bit was whispered, and she sounded so utterly defeated that his heart ached, but what on earth did she mean?
“One like you?” he repeated.
She got to her feet, her arms crossed around her waist.
“Don’t make me spell it out,” she said, irritated now, which was better than the awful sense that she’d been crushed, but he still did not understand.
“But I’m afraid I must, Miss Bunting. I do not know what you mean.”
“Bunty,” she corrected with an impatient huff before adding, “They call me Buxom Bunty, and that’s the nicest of my nicknames, I assure you. Fat Felicity is another.”
“Who said such a thing to you?” Ludo demanded, hearing the hurt in her voice and wanting to tear limb from limb whatever wretch had made her feel anything less than beautiful.
She gave him an odd look, as if he was being deliberately obtuse.
“Nigh on everybody,” she retorted. “It’s not as if it isn’t true.”
“The devil it is!”
Her eyes widened at his fierce response and he wondered why she looked so surprised by it. Had no one ever defended her?
“There is no need to be polite for the sake of it, my lord. In fact, I should vastly prefer it if there were complete honesty between us. I have no expectation that… that you should give up your….” He could see her struggle for a polite way of framing her words. “Pursuits. I have trapped you into this, though I swear I did not intend to do so. I do not expect you to… to woo me.”
“Yet, I find that I would like to, all the same.”