Page 18 of Marriage Most Scandalous
He snorted. “You don’t understand how it was with my father and Cecil. They were as close as Giles and I were. When you develop a friendship that deep, it becomes a bond of honor. He had to disown me. I’d killed his best friend’s only son, and after he forbade me to harm him.”
“Then why did you?”
“Good God, you don’t really think I meant to, do you? It was a bloody accident.”
“What I think is you’re trying to find a way out of our bargain,” she said stiffly. “There are any number of ways for you to get back in that house. Think of one.”
“I have and there aren’t. It’s your turn.”
She glared at him. “Disguise yourself,” she ordered.
He raised a brow. “From my own family? I could wear a bloody dress and they’d still recognize these eyes. Try again, Lady Margaret.”
She started to laugh. “You, in a dress? Good God, that’s priceless. I never would have thought of that.”
“You can stop thinking of it right now. It isn’t going to happen.” “No, no.” She grinned. “Of course not. It wouldn’t do a’tall, anyway. Women just don’t come in your size—” She burst out laughing again. “My God, I can’t get the picture out of my mind now.”
“Shall I help you?” he growled, not the least bit amused as he stepped closer to her and reached for her arm.
She leapt back from him. “None of that, now.” She scowled at him, her humor gone. Then she sighed. “Very well, there’s the most obvious way.”
“What obvious way? There is no obvious way.”
“Course there is. We could pretend to be married for a while. That would get you in the door. Any husband of mine would be as welcome at Edgewood as I am.”
“Have you quite lost your gourd?”
“Certainly not. I’ve been away for four months. It’s quite reasonable that I could have married during that time. And I’m not suggesting that we stay married. Heavens no. And I’m certainly not suggesting we really get married. That isn’t necessary a’tall. No one at home will be able to prove or disprove whether we are or aren’t married, since the pretend wedding would have taken place on the Continent. Of course we’d have to pretend to divorce afterward, just as soon as you’ve gotten to the bottom of who or what is causing your father’s accidents and you’ve removed the threat.”
He stared at her. Her thought processes quite bowled him over.
Dryly, he said, “Maggie, m’dear, you’re overlooking one simple fact. The stigma of a divorce would ruin you, real or not.”
“Rubbish. When people learn why I made the sacrifice, I will be quite the heroine.”
Sacrifice. To marry him? Now that hurt, ’deed it did. Unfortunately, she probably had the right of it. Posing as her husband, while it wouldn’t get him back into the bosom of his family, just might get him inside Edgewood for a visit or two. And that could be all that was necessary. The pot would be stirred—if her suspicions were correct.
He wouldn’t care to have her ruined reputation on his conscience, though, so he told her, “It might not be necessary a’tall. I’ll need a few days to investigate to see if it is. However, it’s a serious charade you are proposing, so I suggest you give it more thought in the meantime.” But because that “sacrifice” remark was still fresh in his mind, he needled her further. “Think carefully about whether you’re willing even to pretend to be married to a man like me.”
She raised a questioning brow. He took a step closer, brushed her cheek with the back of his knuckles. “You’d have to pretend to be in love with me,” he said, “and get used to my touching you, kissing you. Perhaps we should practice to see if you’re even capable of that kind of pretense.”
It took her several moments to grasp what he was implying, and then she blushed vividly. “There will be no practicing or pretending of that sort! Really, Sebastian, you know very well that even mild displays of affection between married couples are kept behind closed doors. I’d always thought that was rather silly, but now I’m bloody well thankful it is so. As for pretending to be in love with you, I’ll manage somehow, if it becomes necessary.”
Chapter 9
THEY COULD HAVE REACHED PORT LAST NIGHT, but their captain was new to the task and too timid to continue on after the rain started, obscuring all view. Although the channel was heavily trafficked, a veteran captain would have had no trouble avoiding a collision with sister ships. But it didn’t really matter what time of day they docked at Dover, because their destination was only a little farther down the coast.
Margaret was grateful for the extra time, since she wanted to carefully broach to Edna the subject of the possible marriage, so she and Oliver would know to corroborate the wedding story if it became necessary. She hadn’t counted on her maid being so scandalized by the very idea.
“You can’t do that,” Edna had said bluntly.
“Course I can,” Margaret told her. “Keep in mind he is Sebastian Townshend.”
“Exactly, the disowned son of the Townshends, a family you’re quite close to. You would have given him the cold shoulder if you had met him again under normal circumstances. It makes no sense that you’d marry him.”
Margaret hadn’t thought she’d have to convince Edna of the reasons she might have married Sebastian but trotted out a few. “I never mentioned this to anyone before, not even to Florence who I confided everything to when we were children, but you know I used to be quite fascinated by him—before the duel, of course. But it isn’t unreasonable that I might have held a tendre for him all these years and been delighted to meet up with him again. It’s also not unreasonable that I thought I could reconcile him and his family. And you mentioned it yourself, how handsome he is, certainly handsome enough to turn any girl’s head.”
“Not yours,” Edna said with a huff.
