Page 73 of The Truth About Lord Stoneville
Because he’d done it to save her from embarrassment. And because Oliver rarely said anything on impulse. Considering how he’d fought the idea of marriage, it was astonishing he would let something like that slip. It made her hope . . .
No, she’d be mad to hope for anything more from him—especially given his clear alarm over how he’d misspoken.
The woman Lady Tarley had been talking to hurried to Mrs. Plumtree, who broke into a cat-in-the-cream smile after the woman said a few words to her. Mrs. Plumtreeglanced over at Maria, and to Maria’s shock, she winked.
Winked! Maria didn’t know what had happened in the past few hours, but somehow Mrs. Plumtree had gone from disapproving of her as a wife for Oliver to approving of her wholeheartedly.
Oh dear. She had a sinking feeling that this evening was about to head in a direction Oliver hadn’t anticipated.
And the worst part was that a tiny, ridiculous corner of her heart was glad.
Chapter Nineteen
Oliver headed after Kitty, cursing soundly. How dared that vindictive creature insult Maria? The look of mortification on Maria’s face—was it any wonder he’d spoken out of turn? He’d wanted to throttle the woman.
Kitty had hated him ever since he’d refused her overtures while she and his friend Anthony were still involved. Anthony had broken with her shortly after, so she’d assumed that Oliver had scotched things with Anthony. She’d despised him from that day forward.
Little did she know that Anthony had figured out on his own what a bitch she was. Anthony’s new wife called her Lady Tartley. Oliver thought that an insult to tarts.
And now, thanks to her, Maria had been dragged even further into his battle with Gran. Kitty zigzagged about the room like lightning, no doubt telling everyone within hearing of the lateston dit.
With every stride across the room, someone stopped him to ask if he was indeed betrothed to “the American girl.” After the first few attempts to protest that it wasn’t official, he gave up. By then, the story was whisking about the mansion of its own accord; denying it would only give it fuel.
Suddenly he spotted Gran deep in conversation with Kitty’s closest friend, and relief coursed through him. Gran would squelch the tale at once. And once she tried to quash the gossip, he would win—because he could then threaten to send notice to the papers of his betrothal if she didn’t back down. She’d have no choice but to give up on her scheme.
Except . . . she wasn’t acting as if she meant to squelch it. She was talking to the other woman with great animation. And when she met his gaze from across the room, beaming from ear to ear, he realized in a flash that he’d misunderstood everything.Everything.
She hadn’t been bluffing him. All the rot about trying to buy Maria off, the disapproving looks and snide remarks . . . all along, Gran had been goading him toward what she wanted. God preserve him.
With a sickening sense of inevitability, he saw her go to the duchess’s side and whisper a few words, then saw the duchess rise and tap her glass to indicate she had an announcement to make. With a triumphant smile, Gran announced the engagement of her grandson, the Marquess of Stoneville, to Miss Maria Butterfield of Dartmouth, Massachusetts.
All eyes turned to him, and the whispers began anew.
He couldn’t believe it. How could he have been so blind? He’d lost the battle, maybe even the war.
And the worst of it was, Maria was caught in the middle. He’d sworn it wouldn’t go this far, that she wouldn’t have to worry about word of it reaching Hyatt. She’d tried to warn him that Gran might go through with the announcement, but he’d been so damned sure of himself that he hadn’t listened. Now there would be hell to pay.
Within seconds, both he and Maria were surrounded by well-wishers, neither of them able to reach the other. In the background, the gossips already speculated about why he was marrying a nobody of little consequence. It infuriated him that thanks to his blunder, Maria would be subjected to the same nasty gossip his family had endured for years.
It took him half an hour to plow his way back to her, but before he could even speak to her, Minerva tugged on his arm. “Gran wants to leave.”
“I’m surprised,” he growled. “Now that she’s accomplished her purpose, I’d think she’d wish to hang around and gloat.”
Minerva’s lips thinned in disapproval. “She says she’s tired, and she’s not lying. I can see it in her face. Celia and I are going to take her home.”
“Fine.” He glanced over to where Maria was speaking to three women, her face rigidly smiling, and a strange swell of protectiveness swamped him. “Take Maria, too. She’s looking overwhelmed. I have to salvage what I canof this situation before I can leave, and that will be easier if I don’t have to look after her. It will be in all the papers by tomorrow if I don’t do something, and Maria is worried that her real fiancé will hear of it.”
Not that he gave a damn if that happened. Hyatt didn’t deserve her. But he’d promised her it wouldn’t occur, and somehow he must keep his promise.
“How did Lady Tarley even learn that you and Maria—”
“Don’t ask,” he said with a groan. “You wouldn’t believe it, anyway.”
“Given Gran’s reaction, I’d say your plan hasn’t turned out as we hoped.”
“Gran has played me for a fool.”
“It appears that she’s played all of us for fools.” She eyed him closely. “What are you going to do?”
