Page 5 of A Kiss Gone Wylde
“I tripped,” Benny offered quickly. The last thing she wanted was to find herself in some sham betrothal to a man she hardly knew!Even if he did kiss divinely.
If that cat, Jenny, had been standing before her, she would happily have smacked her. But that wasn’t fair, and she knew it. She’d made her own decision to come to Vauxhall, after all. That decision had been made based on unreliable information, but no one had twisted her arm. Or at least they hadn’t until she had actually gotten to Vauxhall. And she’d also made the decision to let him kiss her. He’d asked and she had agreed.
Realizing that the crowd gathered was still waiting for a slightly more detailed explanation of what had occurred. Benny stammered, “I was lost and then it was so dark and I—my slipper caught on one of the stones and… well, I tripped and I would have fallen, likely causing myself significant injury if not for this delightful gentleman who had happened to be close by.”
“Delightful gentlemen andrespectableyoung ladies do not just encounter one another on the Dark Walk, miss.”TH The leader, whom she now recognized as Lord Wainwright—a bounder of great infamy, tossed out that accusation as if he were a paragon of virtue. But there was a note of triumph—of vengeance—in his voice. He was enjoying her downfall out of pettiness for having escaped his advances.
“That’s quite a scratch on your face, Wainwright,” the Baron noted. “It rather looks as if you’ve tangled with a cat.”
“Branches,” Wainwright responded. “I stumbled in the darkness. But do not try to turn the subject, Davenport. This is no coincidence or accidental meeting, but an assignation gone awry!”
“Of course, you are quite right,” Lord Davenport agreed, stepping closer to Benny. He pulled her to his side, holding her in a very proprietary way that, even in the dark, would have been impossible to miss. “It was an assignation… but not an improper one. Miss Wylde had longed to see the pleasure gardens and I am simply unable to deny her anything. I brought her here to fulfill her wish as I hope she will fulfill mine. Miss Wylde, I had not intended to do this before so many witnesses, but this is the situation we find ourselves in, and we must adapt our plans accordingly.”
Why would he lie about their acquaintance? And then the significance of his word choices about wishes and hopes finally penetrated the haze of fear and pure unadulterated panic that had seized her. That was the precisely the sort of language that was typically involved in marriage proposals. Not that she knew from experience. But she’d certainly heard it from other girls who had gone on an on about their proposals, regaling unwilling listeners with every last boring detail.
No. No. No. No. No.
He wouldn’t. Surely he did not intend to propose.
“Will you do me the honor, Miss Wylde, of granting me your hand in marriage?”
Benny felt her heart pounding out a furious rhythm in her chest. As she tried to speak, it stuttered for a second, skipping beats and then settled back into a normal, if rapid, rhythm. She was beginning to understand why women swooned.
Surely a woman could only survive a limited number of shocks in one evening, but it seemed hers were to continue coming. And a limited number of high-handed men you believed themselves entitled to make decisions for a woman on every front—such as whether she wished to be touched, whether she wished to be rescued, whether she wished to be married. Of course, that was also somewhat unfair. She’d been quite grateful for his intervention when it had been convenient for her, hadn’t she? And again, he hadn’t kissed her against her will. Not only that, but he’d placed himself in significant danger to spare her a fate she couldn’t even begin to imagine. And he’d behaved honorably at every front. Excepting that kiss, of course, which, again in all fairness, she had asked for. But this was not at all what had been in her mind when she’d wanted an evening of adventure! It was all Benny could do not to stamp her foot.
“Answer the man, Miss Wylde,” one of the men in the crowd jeered, prompting a veritable chorus of demands for the same. “Can’t just leave the poor boy hanging in suspense!”
“Lord Davenport, I…”
He leaned down and whispered in her ear under the guise of kissing her cheek. “These men, the ones who accosted you, are gentlemen in name only. They will not touch you if they believe you are mine. But if they think otherwise, you will not be safe from them and the next time your paths cross, there may not be anyone to interfere.”
“Best way to shut a woman up yet!” One of them guffawed and several other chuckles rang out in agreement.
He was right. She knew it. She hated it. But she could not deny it. One of the benefits of being a wallflower was that no one noticed them and often spoke freely in front of them about somewhat scandalous topics. She’d heard all about Lord Wainwright and none of it had been complementary. The man was worse than a rogue. He was a true villain.
The Baron squeezed her hand and the message was conveyed. Refusal was not an option, not unless she wished to become a social pariah and take her sister and cousin with her. Not unless she wished for those men gathered to think she was available to them for whatever it was they wanted from her. “I accept your proposal. Indeed, how could I do anything else?”
With that, he slipped a ring from his pinky and then placed it on her finger. “You have made me very happy, Miss Wylde. But now, we should get you home. We must see to your ankle. I would hate to see you suffer a terrible sprain.”
So now she was to limp out of Vauxhall feigning an injury to save face. “Indeed, Lord Davenport. You are most kind and so very attentive.”
To one of the men in the crowd, he said, “Perhaps we could prevail on one of you to lend us a torch or a lantern? I’d hate for Miss Wylde to fall and injure herself further.”
A balding man with a paunch stepped forward, proffering his lantern.
“Thank you, Granwell,” he replied, holding the lantern aloft. “Miss Wylde?”
Benny took her cue and leaned heavily on his arm as he led her back toward the entrance to the pleasure garden. The pleasure garden, she thought, that had afforded anything but pleasure.
Jenny had said it was a place of adventure. And a place where a lucky girl could get an offer. Lucky remained to be determined. But she’d certainly had adventure,if one didn’t mind it being of the unpleasant variety.Offers of a very inappropriate nature had been plentiful, as well. Nothing the maid had said had been untrue, but perspective was a tricky thing indeed.
* * *
The crowd parted and they walked past them. The gathered men had not been the only ones who had come running. Just past the hedges that marked the entrance to the Dark Walk, a group of ladies were gathered. They stared, whispered and tittered behind their fans. Miss Wylde may not have realized it yet, but there was no escaping their betrothal. Her name and now her face were known to some of the worst reprobates and gossips amongstthe ton. No doubt before breakfast the following morning, half of London would know of the events that had transpired at Vauxhall. It was the sort of scandal that would not be quickly forgotten. Especially not by Wainwright. He was the sort of man who would use anything to his advantage that he could.
Did he know, Payne wondered? Was Wainwright aware that he suspected him of playing a part in Anne’s death? Or at the very least, of knowing more about it than had been made public. Wainwright had certainly eyed them with no small amount of suspicion. Just thinking about the man and all that he was capable of made his blood boil. What would happen if it hadn’t been him she’d encountered on the walk? He couldn’t stand to think of what that man might have done to her.
When they finally, at long last, reached the gates, and exited toward his waiting carriage, he finally spoke. “What in the devil were you thinking?”
