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It would not be easy to convince either man that this was a terrible idea. But she would try, with every ounce of strength she possessed.

“I have no wish to put Lord Abbott in that predicament,” she said quietly. “I am certain he has far better marriage prospects than myself, and I do not wish to tie the gentleman down for something for which we are both responsible.”

Beside her, Lord Abbott shifted. His shoulders flexed slightly beneath his coat, as though some invisible weight pressed upon him.

“I assure your daughter,” he said, voice rough with restraint, “that she is the very best of marriage prospects. It would not be a hardship in the least to announce our betrothal.”

Gwen held her chin high. “And I wish to assure Lord Abbott that I am more than capable of taking care of myself. I free him to find a more suitable partner.”

“I am perfectly capable of selecting a wife,” he countered, his tone sharpening. “And I believe that Miss Smythe ought to have a greater appreciation of her worth as a prospect for such.”

Across the room, her father turned his gaze from one to the other, bemusement creasing his brow. His head tilted slightly to one side, eyes narrowing as he absorbed the volleys being exchanged. It dawned on Gwen that they were, in effect, sparring—with him as the referee, neither of them willing to speak their full mind while he remained uncertain of the facts.

“Could one of you explain to me,” he said, voice suddenly edged with steel, “what exactly unfolded on the terrace?”

Gwen’s breath caught. Her father was slow to anger, but when he showed signs of growing vexed, it was wise to take heed.

“I thought Lord Abbott had informed you of what transpired?” she asked cautiously, voice softening in deference.

Lord Abbott shifted once more, and Gwen felt the firm line of his thigh brush against hers through the thin silk of her gown. A jolt of awareness shot through her. She stared rigidly ahead.

Good grief. He was the most handsome man she had ever sat this close to. Which was precisely why she was addressing her father, rather than him, directly. To look at him, truly look at him, was simply too daunting a prospect.

“I simply laid out the broad strokes,” Lord Abbott murmured.

“Well, now I wish to hear the specifics,” Papa rejoined without hesitation. His voice was edged with suspicion, and the pleasant lines of his face had drawn taut with concern.

Lord Abbott cleared his throat and brought a hand to his mouth. “I encountered … your daughter on the terrace and was overtaken by her beauty beneath the moonlight. The words of Manilius sprang forth, and I was caught utterly unaware when Miss Smythe responded in kind. Which was when I … um …” He coughed again, the sound more awkward than convincing.

Gwen turned her gaze to her father in time to see his features transform from wary to triumphant. His face broke into his customary grin, and he gave a knowing nod, as though some prophecy had at last come to fruition.

“You witnessed the perfection of my only daughter,” he said, “and fell at her feet, defeated by her magnificence.”

It was not a question. It was a proclamation.

And Gwen wanted to sink into the floor.

Her father’s oft-repeated declaration, offered in jest a fortnight past, now hung in the air like smoke after a cannon blast. She had the absurd impulse to fan the words away, as though dispersing the remnants of some dangerous spell.

To her horror, Lord Abbott tilted his head in thought, and then a matching grin spread across his face.

“Quite so,” he said.

They looked at one another with the bonhomie of shared ideas, and Gwen was left feeling both outnumbered and mortified.

Papa turned to her with renewed purpose. “And then what happened?”

Gwen’s legs bounced in agitation, and she kept her eyes firmly on the floor. “Lord Abbott approached me … and then we … um … embraced.”

“Embraced?”

“Well … yes … we … uh …”

She gestured helplessly, her arms flailing in a wide arc, as though sheer motion could substitute for words. Realizing how absurd she must look, she gave in to her fate.

“Kissed!” she burst out. “We kissed! And then the guests walked out and found me, his lips pressed to mine and his hands upon my buttocks!”

Her father burst out laughing.