Her father advanced, and she retreated. Never would she have imagined this confrontation at being summoned. Why would Lord Jensen do this? According to his mother, Payton’s possession of a sizeable dowry was her only recommendation, and it had not been good enough.
Acting on the instinct of flight, she rushed to the door.
“You will not leave this room until you have answered my questions to satisfaction,” her father snapped. “Lord Jensen alluded he saw you riding alone with…with a horse breeder, and I had not believed my daughter could act with such wanton impropriety.”
Her mother gasped and then swooned, quite dramatically.
“Mr. Konstantinovich is not a stable hand. He is His Grace’s man of affairs and a friend. Yes, I rode out with him, but we were in view of the croquet party.” Not quite true, but she could not bear to reveal any more. The entire situation was mortifying and heartbreaking.
“I am ashamed,” her father said quietly, and she flinched.
“I have done nothing to bring you shame,” Payton said hoarsely.
He held her gaze, and then nodded. Her mother sobbed quietly in the background, but Payton did not spare her a glance. It was her father she needed to convince. “Father, please believe me when I say—”
“No,” he said. “I have spoken, and I have informed Lord Jensen he can make the announcement in the Gazette and the Times.”
Betrayal scythed through Payton. “You would believe Lord Jensen over your own daughter?”
“Do not cast aspersions on the man wishing to marry you,” her aunt gently berated.
Payton’s throat burned. “I know this family desires to move amongst loftier circles. I never believed my father and mother would place their desires above my happiness.”
Her mother gasped, but her father stood immovable.
“The reason I am consenting, Payton, is because you gave yourself to him. Phillipa acted in a similar reckless manner, and I did nothing. No more,” he snapped coldly. “You will marry Lord Jensen, or I will disinherit you.”
Without speaking she turned from the room and ran.
Chapter Ten
No, no, no, no!
Payton ran into the icy outdoors toward the stables. In her periphery she saw Lord Jensen rushing after her, and she hurried her steps. Her emotions were too volatile to face the lying wretch; she was liable to slap his face with all her strength, which would no doubt create a new wave of scandal, since several of Lady Calydon’s guests were strolling on the front lawn and through Sherring Cross’s famous gardens.
Averting her gaze from everyone, Payton did not halt until she reached the stables. The scent of worn leather and horses filled her nostrils, and she headed for another stallion, one that had already been fitted with reins and saddle, no doubt for one of the guests.
Without hesitation, she used the mounting block and seated herself astride, pulling the hem of her day gown to her knee in the most indecent fashion.
“Payton, my darling, please let me explain,” Lord Jensen said, running to stand beside her.
Rage blasted through her. Her hands trembled, and she fisted them on the reins, not wanting to betray the depth of emotions roiling through her. Payton prayed her face was filled with all the distaste she felt as she looked down on him. “You are despicable, and nothing will ever persuade me to wed you.”
The concern and charm shifted, and anger flared in the gray depths of his eyes. “Your father has already given his blessing. And if you think to make this difficult, I promise I will ruin you. How many men do you think will want you after I have made it known I’ve had you? You think you know what it is to face ostracism? All London will speak of is that I took your virtue, and no man will offer for you, whether he be high or low born.”
She gasped, shock pouring through her. “A few months ago all it took for you to shift your affections was a rumor of Lord Anthony and Connie’s bastardy. Now you are so eager to marry me, even if I feel only contempt for you. Why? My dowry and inheritance?”
A grimace twisted his lips. “It is vulgar to speak of money so casually, but I suppose I cannot expect better.” His eyes flicked to her exposed legs and lust heated his gaze. “We will be good together, Payton. Just give me a chance…give us a chance. Now get down so we can discuss this in a becoming manner,” he ended patronizingly.
Smothering a very unladylike curse, she surged away.
He yelled her name, and she ignored him, bursting from the stables. Payton urged the horse she rode to almost breakneck speed. She had to get away. Thunder grumbled in the distance. The gloomy weather seemed to be in perfect tandem with her emotions. Lightning cut across the sky, followed by another blast of thunder. A squall brewed, but she would not return to the main house. She could not face more arguments or tearful pleading from her mother.