Page 62 of Never his Duchess

The damage was beyond control. By morning, it would be all over London.

There was only one way to salvage anything—his reputation, her name, both their futures.

He would have to marry her.

The irony wasn’t lost on him. He’d spent months trying to find her a husband, and now he would have to become one himself.

He found her in the gardens, standing beneath one of the lamplit arbors. She didn’t look surprised when he approached.

“You’re going to propose,” she said flatly.

“Not quite,” he replied. “I’m going to insist.”

Evelyn crossed her arms. “How romantic.”

“It’s not meant to be romantic,” he snapped. “It’s meant to be practical. You will have what you wanted. Control over your future, your funds. Freedom from your father. You can even keep the dower house.”

“How generous,” she scoffed, then looked at him. “And what if I refuse?”

The question caught him off guard. He’d been so focused on the necessity of the situation that he hadn’t considered that she might actually resist.

“You can’t refuse.”

“Can’t I?” Her voice was quiet.

“Your reputation will be in ruins.”

“My reputation has survived worse than Lady Charmaine’s gossip.”

“This is different, and you know it. By morning, all of London will believe we were… intimate. Your sisters will be tainted by association. Your aunt?—”

“Don’t.” The word cracked like a whip. “Don’t you dare use my family against me.”

“This is the only way,” he pressed. “For both of us.”

“The only way to what? To trap us both in a marriage neither of us wants?” She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You’ve made your feelings about me abundantly clear, Nathaniel. You think I’m impossible. Unremarkable. Someone no man could want except out of spite.”

“I never said?—”

“You didn’t have to. Every action, every word, every cold shoulder for the last few days has made your opinion perfectly clear.” She stepped closer, her eyes blazing. “So forgive me if I’mnot eager to shackle myself to a man who views marriage to me as a punishment.”

“It’s not a punishment.”

“Isn’t it? You just called it practical. Everything except what a marriage should be.”

He felt something crack inside his chest. “What did you expect me to say?”

“Nothing,” she said quietly. “I expected nothing from you, and you’ve delivered exactly that.”

The words hit him like a physical blow. Before he could respond, she walked away.

“Evelyn, wait?—”

She didn’t stop.

“This conversation isn’t over,” he called after her.

“Yes,” she said without turning around, “it is.”