Page 57 of Indecently Daring

“Murder, murder, infamy! Bugger, bugger, bugger.”

“Harry!” Alana said, staring down at him.

Harry got to his feet, only dimly aware that every part of him hurt.

“Harry, you don’t have to do this. I know I’m not what you wanted. I’m too outspoken, too much trouble, a problem you need to go away—”

“You’re wonderful,” Harry said simply. “And if you go away, I shall only follow you. Don’t go away, Alana. Please. Stay.”

Alana’s eyes grew very round and very bright. Sea green, sea blue, he could never tell which, but they glittered today and took him somewhere warm and sunny.

She gave a hesitant laugh and then let out a breath. “All right, then.”

“All right, then?” Harry repeated, pulling a face.

“Yes, Harry,” she amended. “Yes, please.”

Harry took her hands in his and held on tight.

“You’ll let me court you, then? Give me a chance to show you I’m not such a bad-tempered prig as you thought?”

She grinned at him. “I know you’re not.”

“I’m a bad bargain though, love,” Harry whispered. “Poor as a church mouse. Your parents—”

“Want me to be happy,” Alana said, with such certainty he almost believed her. “And besides which, I’m an heiress.”

“You’re a… Oh! You’re…?”

“Yes. Horribly rich. It’s embarrassing really,” she said apologetically. “You’ll probably have to give it all away or something.”

Harry really needed to go to bed. He felt dizzier than ever.

Belatedly, they turned to see everyone was watching them.

“I thought she didn’t like him,” Lady St Clair said to her husband with a puzzled frown.

The earl gave his wife a fond look of exasperation. “I know, dear,” he said, his tone soothing, putting his arm about her shoulders.

“Bugger, bugger, tits!” Macintosh sang happily, appearing to believe this gathering was entirely for his benefit.

Montagu turned to frown at him.

“I do apologise, Montagu,” Lady Beauchamp said, not looking the least bit sorry. “He’s dreadfully naughty, I’m afraid, but quite a darling, and so affectionate.”

Montagu walked closer to the parrot, eyeing it sceptically. The parrot scurried across his perch, closer to the marquess, eyeing Montagu in return.

“Tits,” Mac said, as if testing the water.

Montagu raised an eyebrow.

“Ooooh, what a big one!”

Harry thought perhaps the marquess’ lips twitched, but it was impossible to tell.

“How spectacularly vulgar. Matilda will adore you,” he said with a sigh, turning back to the assembled company as Aunt Cora enveloped Harry in a fierce hug.

“Well done, Harry!” she said, grinning broadly. “I just knew she was the girl for you. Didn’t I say so, Dorcas? Oh, I think this is simply wonderful!”