Page 12 of Married to the Earl

“My Lord?” Dawson said, looking frightened. “Will you accept? Will you marry my daughter?”

“I’ll have to think about it,” Conor said.

Dawson had the audacity to look wounded. “She’s a good girl,” he said. “She will make a fine wife; I promise you that.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Conor said. “But I can’t agree to a marriage without thinking about it, and certainly not one that was only proposed because you wish to get yourself out of trouble.”

He was pleased to see some color in Dawson’s cheeks at that accusation. Perhaps the man did have a sense of shame.

“Go home,” he said. “Go and talk to your daughter, and I will think about what you’ve offered.”

“How will I know when you’ve made a decision?”

“I’ll send for you.”

“My Lord, please consider—”

“I’ve told you that I’ll consider it,” Conor said sharply. “And now I’ve asked you to go. If you insist on remaining here, Iwillcall for the police, and we’ll be having a very different conversation.”

Tobias Dawson jumped to his feet, nearly upsetting his glass of scotch, and fled the club.

It was a relief to be alone. Conor slumped in his chair and did his best to collect his thoughts, but it wasn’t easy. His mind was racing, and it seemed impossible to catch up.

Dawson doesn’t believe the rumors about me. That was nice, Conor supposed, but he knew that most people still did. And even though the girl’s financial future would be secure if she were to marry Conor, what would happen to her reputation?

What will people think of her if she announces a sudden engagement to a man who’s known to be a womanizer and a philanderer?

Conor knew exactly what they would think. He had heard the whispers before about other, unfortunate women.

They’ll think she’s having my baby. That I’m marrying her because decency forced my hand. They’ll think we’re trying to present ourselves as honest, but that it’s a ruse.

And she was a commoner, at that. A girl who found her way into thetonunder those circumstances would never be accepted. She would always be a joke, always on the fringes, always mocked and derided in corners and shadows. That treatment would become her whole life.

Could he really allow such a thing?

He was angry with her father, yes. But he didn’t want any harm to befall the daughter. If anything, it was the opposite he wanted. He admired her. If he could have courted her in more traditional circumstances, he might have done so.

But she could be mine, he thought.The offer has been made. Do I really want to turn it down just because I’m afraid ofrumors? I’ve never worried about rumors in my life!

Tormented by indecision, Conor got up and carried the scotch glasses back to the bar to wash them. Having something to do with his hands would help, he knew.

Tobias Dawson couldn’t possibly have had any idea what he was doing when he had made his offer. He couldn’t have known the rush of adrenaline Conor felt every time he thought of Dawson’s daughter. He couldn’t have known how the few glimpses Conor had ever had of the girl replayed over and over in his mind.

Astrid.Even her name was beautiful.

“What am I going to do?” he murmured aloud as he soaked the glasses in water and began to scrub. “What’s the right decision?”

And as he considered, it came to him.

He would ask for help.

He would turn, as he always did when things grew too complicated, to a trusted friend.

Henry Wilson was much better than anyone Conor knew at navigating muddy social waters. He was a commoner himself, so he would have the perspective to help Conor understand what a noble marriage would mean to the girl.

He was also much more in touch than Conor himself was with the gossip of the town. He had heard all the rumors about Conor. He would very likely be able to predict what the reaction would be if Conor announced he was getting married to Tobias Dawson’s daughter.

Conor permitted himself a small smile. He was incredibly fortunate to have a friend like Henry, he knew. As antisocial as he tended to be, he was sometimes surprised he had any friends at all, much less one of such quality.

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