Page 2 of The Duke and the Scarred Bride

Louisa suppressed the urge to sigh. The Viscount had been introduced to her a few weeks ago by her mother and had shown interest in her despite his inability to hide his revulsion at her scar. He was a young widower who had quickly taken to finding a replacement for his late wife as he needed an heir and he had been rather vocal about his desires not caring how they sounded.

It was not as though Lord Pemberton was thoroughly unpleasant—he was a gentleman by all standards, but with a penchant for bragging. She just wanted someone who wasn’t daunted by something as vain as a scar.

“Show him in at once, Albert,” her mother ordered.

He bowed, and a few minutes later, Lord Pemberton strolled in, an air of self-importance about him as he surveyed the room with an upturned nose.

“Lord Pemberton,” her mother greeted. “It’s a pleasure to see you this morning.”

“Lady Langham.” Lord Pemberton smiled down at her, kissing the back of her hand. “I assure you, the pleasure is all mine. You look positively radiant this morning.”

Lady Langham smiled brightly and blushed like a debutante.

Louisa shook her head at the scene but smiled nonetheless. She had already been prepared for this visit and was ready to charm as was expected of her.

Before Isabella had brought up news of the Duke of Colborne, she had been rebuffing claims that Lord Pemberton would propose that morning.

“Why else would he send so many flowers?”Diana had asked, referring to the large bouquet that had arrived the day before.

Louisa sincerely hoped that wasn’t true, but she had kept her opinion to herself. Her matchmaker of a mother would no doubt have gone on a tirade about how ungrateful she was being or how she was throwing her life away.

Lord Pemberton turned to her then, and she saw him wince before plastering a smile on her face. She wondered how her family hadn’t noticed the look on his face. She could already see Duncan and Benedict placing bets on whether or not the Viscount would propose. All her plans of charming him flew out the window.

“Miss Gouldsmith.” He smiled, kissing her hand. “You are as beautiful as a spring morning.”

She smiled and curtsied. “You flatter me, Lord Pemberton.” She remembered to smile bashfully, hiding her face behind her fan. “How do you fare this morning?”

“I am ecstatic.” Lord Pemberton beamed. “And the weather seems to reflect my mood. Would you care for a turn about your gardens? I spotted some begonias that I am interested in studying.”

Louisa was in no mood to take a turn about the gardens when he could barely stomach looking at her face and wanted very much to return to her chambers, but before she could voice her refusal, she caught her mother’s glare over his shoulder and accepted his arm.

“It would be my pleasure, My Lord.”

Lord Pemberton smiled and led the way, even though it was his first time in her family’s townhouse. He paused ever so often to admire the flowers.

He was a simple man, Lord Pemberton, with simple hobbies, and if he wanted, he could have his pick of any single lady of the ton. Louisa wondered why he would consider her. She was sorely tempted to ask him, but she knew her mother—who was only a few steps behind them—would berate her for being stupid.

“You are awfully quiet today, Miss Gouldsmith,” Lord Pemberton noted. “Does my presence offend you?”

She heard her mother’s sharp intake of breath and was quick to answer. “Not at all, My Lord. It is such a beautiful day, and I don’t want to ruin it with idle chit-chat. I would much rather enjoy the view with you.”

Lord Pemberton smiled brightly at her words and took her hands in his. “Your words have comforted me,” he admitted. “I would have been sorely disappointed had you said otherwise, for I hoped to ask for your mother’s permission to court you.”

Louisa’s eyes went wide as panic flooded her. She had thought she would have a week or more to scheme her way out of the engagement, but the damned man had to ruin it. Now, she would have to think of a solution on the spot. But what?

“M-My Lord, I am honoured,” she started, fumbling for the right words. “But don’t you think it’s too soon?”

She heard her mother hiss from behind them, but for propriety’s sake, Lady Langham couldn’t interrupt even if she dearly wanted to.

“I do not,” Lord Pemberton answered with a frown, no doubt wondering why he hadn’t been met with profuse gratitude. “I am as sure of your character as I can be, and I see no need to dally. Do you not think so?”

Louisa’s eyes darted around as she tried to come up with a response that would both save his pride and give her the chance to escape the dreadful match. A risky idea came to her mind, but it seemed the most sensible course of action at the moment.

“I do, but, My Lord, I am sorry to have led you on—I cannot grant that request.”

Lord Pemberton folded his arms, glaring at her. “Whyever not?” he asked hotly. “You do not have other suitors, and surely you cannot have set your sights on anyone more eligible than I. No one else would have you.”

Her anger flared at his snobbery, and she was glad that he had spoken thus. Now, she wouldn’t care the least bit about sparing his feelings.

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