“You are capable of changing our fate. All you need do is tell Lady Wingate you refuse to wed me.”
“I fear I will have to disappoint you, darling. My transgressions are vast, but I draw the line at ruining you. I compromised you, so now I must make amends.” And I feel guilty as hell for it, Ian added to himself.
Tess’s hands clenched in impotent fury. “It isn’t right that I should be forced to marry you. I did not ask you to kiss me.”
“But neither did you object.”
/> “I intended to, just before we were interrupted.”
Ian raised a quizzical eyebrow. Tess’s flush indicated she knew very well she had been a willing participant in her seduction.
“Granted, I never should have taken it so far,” Ian conceded. “But the damage is done now. You need the protection of my name.”
When distress crossed her beautiful face once more, he softened his tone a measure. “Take heart, sweeting. No one who knows you would hold you to blame for our transgression. Everyone believes you to be a saint.”
Her mouth twisted. “I am hardly a saint.”
“But you are a pattern card of respectability.”
“Until now I have been. It is utterly unfair that my one lapse should result in a life sentence.”
Ian agreed, it was unfair that she would bear the brunt of society’s disapproval. On the scale of social infractions, his were infinitely worse, but would be judged minor compared to this one slip from Tess. He’d been a rebel most of his life, but he had paid little price for his reckless scandals. Certainly his wickedness had not made him an outcast. He was a duke after all. Without an act of Parliament, he could literally get away with murder and scarcely suffer for it.
Ian shook his head sardonically. He disliked society’s rules even more than Tess did, and he sympathized with her resentment of the hypocrisy. But the double standards employed for unmarried young ladies and powerful, wealthy noblemen were a fact of life.
He moved back across the stage to stand before her, holding the advantage since from her seated position, she was forced to tilt her head to look up at him. “I won’t go down on bended knee, but I should make my offer formal. Miss Blanchard, will you do me the great honor of giving me your hand in marriage?”
“No.”
He bit back a smile at her succinct response. “This is no time to be stubborn. When an eligible suitor asks a lady to marry him, she should simper and blush and say, ‘Lah, sir, but of course I will.’ ”
“Lah, sir, I will not,” Tess insisted.
His amusement disappearing, Ian exhaled an exaggerated sigh. “Let me remind you of the consequences if you don’t accept. The gossips will rip you to shreds. Contributions to your precious charities will end, not to mention losing your chief patron. And after this, your chances of marrying will be significantly diminished. They may even be nonexistent.”
Of all those threats, he knew the second would be the most crucial to Tess. When Richard first entered the army, she’d become involved aiding families who had sent their men off to war. Then, upon her betrothed’s death, she’d buried herself in her work as a way to lessen her own grief, to the point that her charities had become a passion for her.
Looking chagrined, Tess leapt up from the chaise and began to pace the stage. “There must be some alternative. Perhaps if we simply became betrothed and then later called off the engagement …”
“That would only postpone the inevitable scandal,” Ian replied. “Given my reputation, a betrothal that doesn’t lead to marriage would be even worse for you in the end, especially after what Lady Wingate’s guests saw today.”
Tess clenched her teeth and continued pacing. Watching her, Ian decided he would do better to let her rant for a while, to burn her anger out. In the end, she would see there was only one course open to her.
Turning, he sat down in a chair, then stretched out his long legs and crossed his boots at the ankles. “Pray tell me, what objections do you have to becoming my wife?”
She shot him an incredulous look. “You must be jesting. There are countless reasons, but the chief one is that you don’t love me, and I don’t love you.”
“You have far too many romantic notions. Members of our class marry for a host of socially accepted reasons, but love is rarely one of them.”
“I planned to marry for love, and you are not the sort of man I could ever love.”
Ian winced inwardly at her stinging avowal, although outwardly he shrugged. “I suppose you are still in love with Richard.”
“Of course I still love him.”
He had suspected as much. Even if Tess was officially out of mourning for her late betrothed, she was still devoted to his cousin’s ghost. “I’m afraid that can’t be helped.”
When she made no reply, Ian adopted his same provoking drawl. “Your trouble, Miss Blanchard, is that you are overly idealistic.”