Page 12 of The Marchioness of his Desire
“Rebecca.” Catherine’s whisper and nudge in her back brought her out of her reverie. “Answer!” Catherine hissed.
Rebecca cleared her throat. Edward was truly her best option, and she vowed to make the best of it. “I thank you, Mr. Johnson, for the honor of your proposal, and I …” that pesky vision of Nicholas hovered in her mind, but she pressed on, relentless, “I thankfully accept.”
Edward released his breath. He smiled at her and pulled her into an embrace. “Oh, Rebecca. You have made me the happiest of men.”
Rebecca pushed him away, not ready yet for such a display of affection in front of the ton.She looked around for her friends, but they seemed to have vanished. Well, of all the audacity!
“We must let Lord Sefton know.” Edward had taken her arm and was pulling her toward the entrance. “You will wish him to make a public announcement, I think.”
Public announcement? “Well, I …”
“Lady Rebecca. Mr. Johnson. I have brought Lord Weston to hear your happy news.” Catherine tugged Uncle Roland along with her as she met them going across the room.
Edward bowed. “My lord, happy news, indeed. As we discussed earlier …” he looked sideways toward Rebecca and grinned, “…I have made my offer of marriage to your niece, and she has accepted me.”
“Has she? Capital. I was afraid the chit might take a queer notion into her head to refuse.” Uncle Roland clapped Edward on the back.
“She has, sir.” Edward pulled Rebecca next to his side. “We are on our way to ask Lord Sefton to make the announcement.”
Things seemed to be spinning quickly out of her control.
“But wait. I …”
“Lady Rebecca! Mr. Johnson! My felicitations!” Portly and affable, Lord Sefton approached in haste, followed by Lady Samantha. He grasped Edward’s hand and pumped vigorously. “And at our little to-do. Marvelous!”
“Thank you, sir. I … we were hoping you would be kind enough to make a public announcement?” Edward withdrew his hand.
“Of course! Of course, my boy. Delighted to have that office!”
* * *
Stale, sweat-scented air wafted through the entry doors and into the open hallway. Nicholas rolled his eyes. Here was another reason he assiduously avoided these ridiculous ton events.
But he had good reason to attend tonight, however briefly he decided to remain. Rebecca would be here, and he had to tell her about Johnson before it was too late. Before she took an irrevocable step and bound her life to the blackguard.
His mother’s officious announcement regarding his so-called “bride” had unsettled him for several moments, then a rousing battle had ensued. She demanded, manipulated, wheedled, and he staunchly refused it all in the rudest of epithets. They had gone at it, hammer and tongs.
Until she happened to mention that Rebecca would be at the ball. It seemed that Rebecca and this Crawford chit were friends of some sort.
It was enough to galvanize him into action. Starting preparations late and then waiting to hear back from Ian, whom he had invited to attend along with them, had made them unfashionably tardy.
His mother was fuming. Whether from the fact that he had blatantly and rudely refused to attend until he learned of Rebecca’s attendance or from her humiliation at being so late, he could not be sure. But to say she was irate would be putting it far too mildly.
Her rigid posture and claw-like grip on his arm informed him of her feelings, despite the attentive and gracious smile pasted on her lips as they neared their hosts.
Lord Sefton was moving toward the opposite side of the room as they entered, but Lady Sefton greeted them warmly.
“Why, Lord Somerset, how lovely to see you after your long absence.” The lady’s eyes swept over him in a measuring glance, thinking, he was sure, of the scandal surrounding his sudden departure three years prior.
He nodded. “Lady Sefton. I apologize for our tardy arrival. I only came into port late today, and my mother apprised me of your kind invitation.” He gave her the lopsided smile that always seemed to work wonders on the female sex.
Lady Sefton tittered. “Oh, pray, think nothing of it, my lord. We are pleased you have chosen to honor us with your presence tonight.” She turned to his mother.
“You are most welcome.” Lady Sefton dipped a slight curtsy and looked past the duchess to where Ian stood behind Nicholas.
“And who is this handsome young man, your lordship?”
“Lady Sefton, may I introduce my good friend Mr. Ian Bennet. Bennet, the honorable Lady Sefton.”
