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If there was something James had always hated, it was being forced awake before he was ready. But sleeping through the jolt that passed through him the moment a large irregular form landed in his lap was impossible.
Torn from the blissful dream he’d been having of picking up shells along the shore and discovering what appeared to be a treasure chest, he was momentarily disorientated and reached out frantically with both hands. The body in his lap screamed, jarring his headache back to life and causing him to curse with the fury of a man who’d just been stabbed.
The door to the parlor opened, illuminating the room with light from the hallway. James felt an odd tug on his arm but ignored it. Instead, he tried to sit up – just enough to look over the back of the sofa.
“Well,” was his father’s only remark as he stared at him with wide-eyed dismay. Beside him stood the Marquess of Foxborough with a thunderous expression that caused James to re-examine his current situation.
With a shake of his head meant to clear the cobwebs, he returned his attention to the weight still pressing down onto his lap and realized three things.
One: the object that had awoken him from his slumber was in fact a woman.
Two: the woman was none other than the odious, nose in the air, Lady Abigail.
Three: one of the buttons on his jacket sleeve was caught in a piece of lace attached to her bodice.
Which made him very aware that
Four: she looked like she’d been compromised by him, which
Five: would likely involve an offer of marriage.
James groaned and gave his sleeve a yank, but that only made matters worse. A loud ripping sound followed, accompanied by Lady Abigail’s horrified cry as part of the bodice was yanked away to reveal the chemise she wore beneath.
Frantically she scrambled off him – finally – while clutching the flapping piece of lace-covered muslin against her breast. “You....you...you imbecile,” she said, sounding just as overbearing and insufferable as James already knew her to be. “This is all your fault!”
With a sigh, James stood and rubbed the back of his head where a dull ache hummed down his neck before fanning out over his shoulders. If it wasn’t for her torn bodice, he rather imagined Lady Abigail would point a haughty finger at him to accentuate her accusation. Instead, she used both hands to cover herself. James turned to his father whose eyes had sharpened in the way they tended to do when he was trying to find a way out of a conundrum.
As much as James loved him for it, he knew there was no way out of this one except by taking the honorable path. Not with Foxborough staring at him as if he were a vile little toad tainting his daughter’s surroundings. There was no point in explaining what had happened. No reason for excuses now that additional people had gathered behind his father and the marquess.
Accepting his fate, James took a deep breath and said, “I have made Lady Abigail an offer of marriage, and she has honored me with her acceptance.”
The lady in question squeaked, but said nothing further, for which James was grateful. Foxborough frowned and stepped farther into the room. James’s father followed and the two men soon managed to close the door, effectively shutting out the collection of nosy onlookers who’d been steadily gathering in the hallway.
“You have some nerve,” Foxborough snapped as soon as they were alone. “She is a marquess’s daughter and you’re nothing more than a second son. When I introduced her to you, it was not so you could take advantage half an hour later.”
“Hold on one moment,” Roxley said, his voice taking on the protective tone of a man who was proud of all his children. “James is a good man.”
“As illustrated by the fact that he attempted to seduce my daughter as soon as the chance to do so arose.”
“That’s not at all what happened,” Lady Abigail said, her shocked voice conveying the disgust she felt at the thought of her dear papa assuming she’d lower herself so far as to risk being ruined by a man like James. A second son who would never be able to give her the title she clearly deserved. “I came in here to escape the crowd and...and...”
Her father’s expression eased. “Have a seat,” he told her gently, “and take some deep breaths. It has been a trying evening for you, my pet.”
Trying evening?
Good God. James had just lost his freedom to a careless girl, and her father worried her evening had been trying? And why on earth did he speak to her now as if she needed coddling? He glanced at her even though he really didn’t want to and saw she actually looked quite ill.
“Are you all right?” he asked, partly out of concern and partly because he wasn’t a monster.
“Of course not,” she managed while gulping down air. “I now have to marry a...a...a...”
Raising an eyebrow, James turned away, his sympathy for his future wife dissolving at the thought of how that sentence would eventually end. He addressed her father. “My apologies, my lord, but I fear there is no way to save Lady Abigail’s reputation except through marriage.”
“He’s right,” Roxley said. “Too many people saw and heard too much. If an announcement isn’t issued forthwith, she will be labeled a...” He had the decency to clear his throat instead of adding an actual noun to the end of that sentence. “Now, I know you’re not pleased by this turn of events, Foxborough, but you and I are well acquainted, and as such I hope you will trust me when I tell you that I have every intention of making sure James can give your daughter the sort of life she deserves.”
“Can he give her a title?” Foxborough growled.
“No. Not that,” Roxley told him with no hint of being the least bit ruffled by the other man’s higher status. “But I can give him Arlington House and the means by which to support himself and his family.”
James gaped at his father. Arlington House was a vast estate, built by his great grandfather, and while it wasn’t entailed, James had always imagined it would eventually go to his older brother Charles. “Papa,” James said, intent on protesting his father’s generosity.
Roxley served him a quelling look and raised his hand. “The matter is settled,” he said in that serious tone of his that warned it was futile to argue.
“But—” Lady Abigail said, while James cast her a weary look of exasperation. For one blessed moment, he’d forgotten she was there. She stepped forward now, her face pinched and her palm pressed over her stomach.
James fought the urge to roll his eyes. If she felt queasy at the thought of marrying him, she shouldn’t have placed herself on top of him in a dark room and then proceeded to scream.
“Lord Roxley is right, my dear,” Foxborough said with a compassionate lilt to his voice. “The matter is settled.”
Without saying anything more, Lady Abigail’s father shook hands with James’s, officially sealing their children’s fate.