The Unlikely Lady(93)
Her teacup clattered to the saucer. “Not going to be—” A questioning look spread across her face, part fear, part confusion. “Are you saying you’d prefer to marry by special license? That can easily be arranged. I know someone who—”
“No, that’s not what I mean.” Garrett took a deep breath. “I have made mistakes in my life. More than one. Some more grievous than others. I’ll never forget the day Harold died, and I will always honor him and thank him. I can never repay him. It’s not possible.”
Isabella’s brows had snapped together over her pale, green eyes. She watched him carefully. “Yes, you can repay him. You can repay him by marrying me.”
“Our marriage will not bring back Harold. I refuse to compound one mistake with another. We’d make each other miserable, Isabella. We cannot marry.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You cannot be serious. You’re tossing me over?”
“We haven’t formally announced our engagement. There will be little talk.”
“But … I’ve begun planning. I—”
“I’m sorry, Isabella. Don’t worry. I’ll ensure you and the children are looked after financially until the bill passes in Parliament.”
“The bill?”
“The one Swifdon and Claringdon are sponsoring to ensure the families of the dead and wounded are provided for.”
Her mouth turned into a white line. “A pension from the government cannot keep me in the manner to which I’ve grown accustomed. How can you do this? What about Harold’s letter? What about the baby?”
“The baby belongs to your footman, Boris, doesn’t it? He should do the honorable thing and marry you.”
Her face paled to match her lips. “You expect me to marry a footman?” She sneered. Her eyes narrowed to tiny slits. “Harold would turn over in his grave if he knew you were abandoning us.”
Her words hurt, as Garrett had expected them to, but he no longer felt the wrenching guilt. “If you ever need anything monetarily for the children, all you need do is send me a note.”
“That’s it? You plan to foist us off with a promise based on a note? You have no honor, Garrett Upton!”
Garrett winced and clenched his jaw. It was the most hurtful thing she could say to him. He’d also been prepared for that. “I shall always do right by you and by the children, for Harold’s sake. You have my word.”
“Your word is as good as dirt,” she spat.
“I’m sorry you feel that way. But it does not change my mind.”
She set down her teacup and stood. Moving toward him, she held out her palms in supplication. “Please, Garrett.” Her voice had turned wheedling. “Please marry me.”
“I can’t, Isabella. I do not trust you. I also happen to be in love with someone else.”
Her eyes rounded in shock. “Don’t trust me? Why in heaven’s name not?”
“Don’t feign innocence. I know you had Boris tamper with Miss Lowndes’s saddle the day you raced each other. I also know he hit me over the head with a bottle of wine and locked me in the wine cellar the night of the wedding.”
She looked away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t you? What if I told you Jane saw you in my bedchamber that night?”
Her head snapped up and her eyes flared. “It’s her, isn’t it? She’s the one you think you’re in love with. What are you saying? That your precious, virginal Miss Lowndes was in your bedchamber that night? What would the ton have to say about that?”
He clenched his fists at his sides. “Isabella, if you tell anyone about this—”
“You’ll what?”
“I’ll tell them about everything you’ve done, including the fact that you’re breeding.”
“You have no proof about anything I’ve done. If you refuse to marry me, I’m already ruined, but the damage to your precious Miss Lowndes’s reputation will be done by then. There are already rumors swirling about her behavior at the party. One word from me, someone who was actually there, and she will be ruined completely.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “What do you want?”
“I want you to marry me.”
“I refuse to be manipulated, Isabella.”
“Even for your precious little bluestocking? She won’t be received in any decent drawing room in London by the time I’m through telling my tale.”
“Not if I marry her first.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
If Hughes, the butler, thought it was odd that Miss Jane Lowndes kept appearing at the Duke of Claringdon’s doorstep at all hours of the day without an escort, he did not acknowledge his concern, as a good duke’s butler should. With Lucy as the duchess, the man was assured a lifetime of odd happenings in his household.