Page 62 of The Marriage Wager

“I am. I have spoken to my parents. We will have another ball at the end of this week, the night before all the guests leave. And we will make the formal announcement then.”

Constance sighed. Clearly there was no budging Dominic. Of course he would do what any honorable gentleman would. She should have expected nothing less of him, really.

But she could not bear to put this burden upon him. The family, the estate, would suffer because of their momentary indiscretion. It would be entirely different if he had wanted to marry her, she knew. If he had chosen love over the money the estate needed, she would have agreed in an instant. She would have been happy to live with him in penury, if that was the consequence of their marrying. If he had but once spoken of love, if he had told her how happy it would make him to marry her, she would have been overjoyed.

However, it was quite clear that he had acted out of honor, not love. She was his “responsibility.” He would not “play the cad.” How could she marry him, spend the rest of her life with him, loving him so much that she felt her heart might burst with it, when all that time he did not love her? When he had married her only because he was too honorable not to?

She wished that she knew what to do. It would be easiest, of course, to simply stop resisting, to agree to the announcement and the marriage. It was what everyone wanted. She would not have to face the ruin of her reputation. And perhaps, over time, Dominic would come to love her as she loved him. Did not people grow into love sometimes? Surely there had been couples who had married because their families had arranged it, yet afterward they had fallen in love.

But, no, Constance could not deceive herself. There was a vast difference between marrying because it was expected of one and marrying because one had been forced into it. Especially when marrying that person meant going against one’s family. When it meant that one would be living the rest of one’s life in straitened circumstances…and condemning one’s family to live that way, as well.

In Dominic’s situation, she thought, the marriage would be a constant source of irritation to him. Each time he saw her, he would be reminded of the fact that he had not done his duty by his family, that he hadn’t the money to free his lands from their debts, that he could not provide as he would want to for his children—and all because of Constance. He could hardly grow to love her under those circumstances. Indeed, in all probability, he would come to hate her.

She could not give in and marry him, Constance decided. She had to be firm. But what could she do? If she remained, Dominic would stubbornly go ahead with his plans to announce the engagement at the end of the week; she could not stop him. And once it was announced, it would be much more difficult to turn back. People might overlook his hasty remark today in the face of Muriel’s accusations, but one could not overlook a formal announcement. It would be a scandal if either of them refused to go through with the wedding after that.

Constance knew that she needed to keep him from announcing their engagement, and the only way she could think of to do that would be to leave Redfields. Clearly, talking with him had not worked. But he could not very well announce the engagement if she were not there. He would realize then how serious she was about not wanting him to have to marry her.

The problem, of course, was how she was to get away. Her aunt and uncle had refused to take her back to London; they were much too eager for the wedding to do that. And Constance did not have enough money to lease a carriage to take her there. She had spent all but a few pennies on the clothes and accessories she had purchased in London. To get anything more, she would have to access some of the money she had invested in the Funds, and to do that would require several days. She considered borrowing the money from Francesca; it would not cost too much, surely, if she took the mail coach instead of hiring a post chaise.

But she had the niggling suspicion that Francesca would not be eager to help her. Had she not said only a few hours ago that she should trust Dominic on this issue?

Calandra had been very friendly with her, of course, but Constance could not imagine asking the girl to lend her money to run away. The same was true of anyone else visiting Redfields.

She excused herself from the evening early. It was difficult to be friendly and polite when her mind was running over her problems, and she was getting tired of smiling and avoiding everyone’s questions.

To her surprise, as she started toward the stairs, one of the footmen intercepted her. “Miss…?”

She paused, looking at him inquiringly.

“His lordship requests your presence in his study,” the fellow told her, bowing slightly.

“Lord Leighton?” Constance asked, confused. She had left him in the music room, talking with Sir Lucien and Francesca.

“Oh, no, miss, beg pardon. Lord Selbrooke, I should say.”

Constance gaped at him, even more surprised. “I—yes, of course. Thank you.”

Some of her confusion must have shown on her face, for he then asked, “Shall I show you the way, miss?”

“Yes, thank you.” Constance followed the liveried footman down the hallway, her thoughts in a tumble. What could Dominic’s father want with her?

The footman knocked and opened the door for Constance, then withdrew, closing the door behind him. Constance looked across the room to where Lord Selbrooke sat behind a large mahogany desk. He rose and gestured toward one of the straight-backed chairs that faced his desk.

“Miss Woodley, please sit down.”

Constance did as he said, her stomach knotting. The room was imposing, all dark wood and massive furniture, and she could not help but think that the Earl had meant her to feel that way. He was equally imposing, his face stern and his demeanor haughty. After she took her seat, he sat down once again behind his desk, leaving the large expanse of wood between them.

Perversely, the thought that the man purposely sought to intimidate her stiffened Constance’s back. Even if her insides were jittering, she was not about to let him see it.

He did not speak for a long moment, letting the silence sink between them. She maintained a polite expression, waiting.

“No doubt you know why I wished to see you,” the Earl began at last.

“No, my lord, I am afraid that I do not,” Constance answered evenly.

“You must realize that this is a match that I would not wish for my son.”

“Yes.”