Page 10 of The Virgin in the Rake's Bed
“Well, it is not a matter of concern, I assure you, you know now, and that is all that matters,” he said, just as Nicholas came over to congratulate him.
“I had not expected such a thing, I assure you. What splendid news. I am glad to see you settling down,” he said, taking Ian by the hand and shaking it vigorously.
“I do not think any of us had expected it,” Rickard said, rather pointedly.
“Well, the time was right for me. The past is forgotten, here is to the future,” Ian said, raising his glass in a toast.
He had not expected to depart the evening’s festivities with a betrothal in hand, but as he did so, he thought to himself that the matter had worked out rather well. Not only had he enjoyed a tantalizing liaison, but he had also gained an advantage in business, and surely his rules could accommodate further dalliance if it meant a benefit for him…
* * *
“The more I think about it, the more I find myself against it, Catherine. Why could you not simply do as you were told?” Catherine’s father demanded, as they rode home in the carriage that evening.
“Because I had no desire to marry the Earl of Westwood, father. I do not love him, I cannot love him, and I have no desire to try and love him. I have made my choice. Besides, why is Ian Bennet such an unsatisfactory choice? He is titled, he is wealthy, and he has a fine income,” she replied, folding her arms, and glaring at her father through the gloom of the carriage, which now pulled up outside the townhouse in Mayfair which had been her home since childhood.
But Catherine knew very well why Ian Bennet was out of favor with her father. It was all to do with money and the rivalries which existed between men of business who could amicably share a glass of punch one evening and proverbially slit one another’s throats through financial dealings the next. Ian Bennet and Catherine’s father were business rivals, and even a betrothal could not bring the guarantee of peace between them.
“He is of lower rank to begin with,” her father said, as a footman opened the carriage door for them.
“But of higher rank than you, father,” she pointed out, causing her father to harrumph.
“Perhaps so,” he retorted, and Catherine giggled. She enjoyed having her own way for once, and knowing that there was nothing which her father could do but accept the situation as it was. She was betrothed, and the betrothal had taken place on perfectly legitimate terms, albeit without her father’s permission to begin with.
But Catherine did not need permission to marry a man whose fortune outweighed that of her father and whose reputation, though a little risqué, was hardly the cause of scandal. Catherine knew that Ian Bennet enjoyed his dalliances with women, but so did her brother, who had stayed behind at the Somerset residence to drink with Ian and the other gentlemen, assuring her as she left that he was in full support of her decision to marry.
“Ian is an excellent choice,” he had assured her, and Catherine had smiled and thanked him.
Only Rebecca and Samantha knew the truth, and Catherine knew she could count on their utmost discretion. She was little concerned with the future, content instead to allow events to play themselves out as fate accorded them. That evening, she had left the townhouse in Mayfair with a heart filled with despair.
Now, she returned home hopeful and happy, and it was all thanks to Ian Bennet, the handsome gentlemen who had stolen a kiss from her and promised her his hand, albeit on a loan. She was looking forward to knowing him better, excited at the prospect of his helping her learn the art of seduction, an art she was convinced he would enjoy teaching her as much as she would enjoy learning…
* * *
The next morning, things had barely improved. In fact, they had gotten worse. When she came down to breakfast at around ten o’clock, Catherine found her father in a foul mood, which did not improve as the day went by. He had convinced himself that the match between Catherine and Ian was wrong and intended to do everything in his power to prevent it.
Catherine was not overly concerned, given that she had no thought of really marrying Ian, but she was forced to play along for the sake of the ruse, praying that the deception could last long enough so that the Earl of Westwood would find a new scent to follow, one that would soon agree to his desire for marriage, leaving Catherine a free woman.
“It is simply outrageous. And to think that he did not bother even to speak with me, to pay a call on me, and that you, Catherine, conspired against me. I was so taken aback last night that I could barely comprehend what had happened, but now that I see it in the clear light of day, I can only tell you I am utterly opposed to the notion of it,” he said, banging his fist down hard on the table and sending the crockery rattling.
“A fine thing to say, father, when you yourself consulted me not one bit as to a betrothal to the Earl of Westwood,” Catherine retorted, smiling at the maid, who was standing fearfully by the sideboard waiting to serve the breakfast.
“That is different. I am your father,” he replied, glancing angrily at the maid, who hurried to pour the tea.
“And you treat me in just the same manner as you treated my mother,” Catherine said, helping herself to a slice of toast, which she spread liberally with marmalade.
“Do not compare the matter. Your mother was quite happy,” he snarled, but Catherine laughed.
“You used her as a mere commodity. She came from a far wealthier family than your own, and you used that fact to make a rod for her back. I saw it all, father, and I will not be used by you for your own personal advancement. I have made my choice, and that is that,” she said, pushing aside her plate and rising to her feet.
She had heard quite enough from her father already that morning, and she was not about to be cowed by him for choosing something other than the destiny he had sought for her.
“It will not last, Catherine. The man is a devil when it comes to women. I have observed him before on many occasions. He will not be able to resist the allures of pretty women and then a scandal shall break out and that will be that,” he said, as Catherine fixed him with an angry stare.
“Do you mean to say that you will go out of your way to create a scandal?” she asked, and her father shrugged.
“What I am saying is that I shall do my utmost best to discover something on that rakish man that will ensure your engagement cannot go ahead,” he threatened, fixing her with a malevolent gaze.
“Why do you insist on taking away my happiness?” she demanded, but her father only waved his hand dismissively.
