The Earl and His Virgin Countess(11)

“He used his liaison as part of his bet?”

“He did, and he lost. To be honest, once I left that night, I didn’t think about the game, the evening, or Madame Eve and her damned service again. That is, not until after Wolfe’s masquerade ball.” The earl twisted the glass of wine in his hand. “The next day, I was invited to the wedding of the marquis. I wasn’t actually shocked, since he had been tightly wound like a watch spring for weeks. And a man of his renowned patience like Simon doesn’t let anything or anyone rattle him. He can sit through the most heated of arguments in Parliament and never raise his voice, all the while getting his point across. For the last few weeks, he had been biting the head off everyone and picking fights where there weren’t any. When a man is as twisted in knots as he was, it’s bound to involve a woman.”

Miranda grew angrier with every word he uttered. Anger over his neglect to mention the lady he had been with when the wedding proposal had taken place, and that the woman had been she. Yet, when he put two and two together, he would discover she had been the one to hit him that night, and she would have to face the consequences of her actions.

“Please continue.”

“Very well. The next morning as….” Andrew paused and stared into the distance.

“As?” she encouraged.

Blinking, he directed his attention back to her. “Nothing important. Anyway, while I searched for something from Simon’s desk, at his request, a letter fell out, along with the calling card of Madame Evangeline. I figured Simon no longer needed it and pocketed the card. I had hoped the elusive woman might succeed where I, as of late, had failed. Apparently, even her skills at pairing people can’t help me.” He turned the bottle upside down, shaking it to get the last drop of red liquid into his glass. “Your turn, my dear.”

Miranda thought for a minute about how to phrase her answer, which allowed her anger to spur her on anew. “My aunt paid for this rendezvous.”

“Your aunt?”

“Yes. I’d had a miserable evening one night with my all-but-absent betrothed. He treats me like I don’t exist, and is happy to ignore me and leave me to grow old in the country.”

“Idiot.”

“Pardon me?”

Meeting her gaze, he didn’t flinch as he answered her question. “I said, he is an idiot. Please continue.”

Taking a deep breath, she forged on. “There really isn’t much more to tell. My affianced made it clear our wedding was not on his agenda of things to do anytime soon. So, in order to break our contract, my aunt thought it best to lose my maidenhead, thus, he would nullify the agreement.”

“I see.” What he saw, Miranda wasn’t sure, since his expression remained unreadable. The only sign he worked through what she’d told him was the constant rhythm his fingernails made as he tapped them on the table next to him. “Rather an extreme way to get out of marrying someone.”

“I suppose you have a better idea?”

“Yes, simply refuse his nonexistent suit.”

“If life were only that easy. You see, his estate has been paying for my tutors and my upbringing since my birth. It was an arrangement made between our fathers long ago.” She watched Andrew’s face for some recognition, for anything that said the words of her story rang a bell of any kind. Nothing—the man appeared to hear the story for the first time.

“So, you fear he will ask for the money back.”

“I do, and although my family’s estate is in a better place than in the past, it still can’t afford to repay all that has been paid out.”

“What if I offered to give you the money?” Picking invisible lint off the cuff of his shirt, he acted as though it was completely normal to offer money to a woman he just met.

She opened her mouth, but no words came forth. His offer took the wind right out of her war-ship’s sails. “Why would you do that?”

“Damned if I know.” Running a hand through his hair, he looked to the ceiling as if searching for heavenly guidance.

He couldn’t really mean to buy her out of her betrothal to himself. And, even if he did, how would she ever pay him back? And why would she trade one shackle to him for a new one? “What would you expect in return?”

“Not your maidenhead, if that is what you are asking. I prefer women who want to be with me for who I am, not for the money I paid out.”

Dumbstruck, she sat before him at a complete loss. He offered her money to get out of the contract?

“It’s a lot of money.”

Rolling his eyes, he shrugged. “I imagine it is.”