Page 83 of The Language of Love

“Are you asking for help with your, er, employee and the expectations he might have raised with Miss Susanna Bowman?”

“No, that has all been taken care of.”

It was her turn to look startled. “It has?”

“Yes, I spoke to Mr. Bowman, and he now knows exactly who Mr. Colin Parker really is. The matter I wish to engage you for is my betrothal.”

Her elegant brows arched. “Indeed? And who, may I ask, is the fortunate lady?”

Henry stared at her, looking for some sign that she was lying—that she knew it was her friend. That the two of them had planned this and set a trap to catch him. But she looked genuinely mystified.

“It is one of the Misses Bowman.”

Her lovely gray eyes bulged. “You are betrothed to one of the Bowman sisters.”

“Not one of the sisters. I am betrothed to Miss Annis Bowman.”

***

Henry was exhausted by the time he left Lady Sedgwick’s house an hour later.

She hadn’t raised her voice or hectored or even given him the dirty looks he deserved.

No, she was far more subtle and clever with her punishment.

By the time he’d left her, he had agreed to not only stay in London for eight more days, but to re-join the social whirl, this time with his betrothed at his side, rather than Colin.

“You must stay and make amends, my lord. Surely you understand that?”

“I don’t, actually.”

That had almost flustered the unflappable countess. “Because you must ensure that Annis will be welcome when she returns to London.”

“And why the devil would she—or we—do that?”

“I assume that part of the reason for marriage is children. If that is so,” she’d gone on, not waiting for an answer, “then you will not want them to be outcasts among their own people, will you?”

Well, what could Henry say to that? He, a man who’d spent his formative years cast out not only from the ton, but from his own family.

As angry as he was with Annis just now, Henry didn’t want to hurt her or make her unhappy—he wasn’t that much of a bastard—nor did he want to ruin the futures of his unborn children.

And so—after only a token struggle—he had capitulated: they would stay in town for eight days.

The best thing to have come out of the excruciating meeting was that Lady Sedgwick had agreed to plan their wedding.

The worst part, at least in Henry’s mind, was that it wouldn’t be a small or quick affair.

“A hasty ceremony would be impossible,” Lady Sedgwick had assured him. “You are in London and so is the entire beau monde. There is no reason to have a hole-and-corner affair and it will reflect poorly on you both and be long remembered. Besides, Annis will wish her grandmother to attend, so you can hardly marry tomorrow. Even eight days from now is shockingly quick, but it will have to serve. If you see to the special license, I shall make all the other arrangements.”

“I can’t believe that anyone other than Annis’s grandmother will want to come to our wedding,” he’d said.

Her eyes had narrowed. “You may indeed have an empty church, my lord. But you must at least attempt to make amends.”

“Annis may wish to be involved in the planning,” he’d pointed out.

“Naturally I will consult her first.”

Henry had all but sprinted from her house after that—afraid she’d come up with more ideas, such as court presentations or his attendance at one of the Regent’s levees.