Page 9 of Twelfth Night Sorcery (The Cambion Club #2)

Honora laughed, thinking that to be a good jest. Her laugher faded as she saw that Lord Valance neither smiled nor chuckled. He wasn’t joking? Her stomach plummeted. She knew it was rude to stare, but for a long, speechless moment, all she could do was stare blankly at him.

She finally collected herself sufficiently to say, “But you don’t want to marry me.”

He did not act like a man who had fallen so madly in love with her that he wanted to propose less than twenty-four hours after meeting her. On the contrary, he looked like a man who faced an unpleasant but necessary task, like having a tooth drawn.

“Not particularly, no,” he agreed. “Meaning no offense, of course. You might be delightful company for all I know. Er, and I am sure your courage and fortitude are to be commended.”

Honora frowned, not at all certain he meant those words sincerely. She did not know Lord Valance well enough to clearly interpret his speech or his expressions. Sometimes she missed sarcasm in a person’s voice, particularly with strangers.

“But you know,” he continued, “A gentleman can’t simply run off with a gently reared female of tender years, then leave her to fend for herself. It isn’t at all the thing.”

“I am not of tender years.” Honora had been out of the schoolroom since she was seventeen. She had neither been presented at court nor debuted in London, but she’d had seasons at Bath and Tunbridge Wells. “I am of age. And you didn’t run off with me. You merely gave me a seat in your carriage.”

He nodded. “Yes, but everyone else will assume we ran away together. If I don’t marry you, they will call me a rake and a scoundrel. My reputation will be tarnished, possibly permanently. You may have wanted to ruin your good name, but I prefer not to soil mine.”

“Oh.” Honora sat in silence, dismayed. She had not considered that aspect of the situation.

Of course, her original plan had not been to run away with anyone.

She had meant to be caught in flagrante delicto, doing something no innocent debutante would ever do at a masquerade.

Though that would have damaged Lord Valance’s reputation too, wouldn’t it? Why had she not realized that?

It had, she realized, been rather selfish of her not to think of the way her plan would affect her partner in crime.

She must have assumed—if she had thought about it at all—that any man who would hold a liaison with a stranger at a ball must already be a confirmed rake.

Apparently, that was not the case. But how was she to know?

“I have ruined your life,” she whispered. “I am so very sorry.”

“I forgive you, of course, but I hope you see that you will make my life easier in many ways if you agree to marry me.” He lowered his eyes, as if examining the scraps of burnt paper that covered the table.

“I can safely promise not to murder or assault you, so I might be some improvement over the Duke of Belmont.”

“Anyone would be.” Honora shivered at the unsavory memory of Belmont’s mouth against hers. Perhaps not literally anyone. But certainly, ninety-nine out of a hundred men would be better than Belmont. Wouldn’t they? Or was evil more entrenched in society than she knew?

“Well?” His cool, collected tone of voice was belied by the way he fidgeted with the quill in his hand.

“Of course, I will marry you if you really wish it, but you don’t really wish it, do you?

” She owed it to him to make this right if she could.

But she did not see how marrying Lord Valance would fix anything.

It might very well make his situation worse.

If he married her, he would forever give up his chance of marrying someone he actually liked.

“You could spend your whole life stuck with a wife you don’t want. ”

Valance grimaced. “The same would be true of you, shackled to a husband you didn’t want. But it need not be so terrible. I am perfectly willing to let you go your own way, if you like, after . . .” He looked askance at her as his voice trailed off.

“After?” she prompted.

“I do need an heir,” he said apologetically. “I have no brothers who could inherit my title. But after we had a son, I would not care what you did. You could have your own household, if you preferred. You could take whatever lovers you wanted, so long as you were discreet.”

Honora swallowed uneasily. It was not a particularly appealing vision of matrimony, but it would probably be better than life at Belmont Court.

And, she supposed, it would not be worse than most society marriages.

People married for economic and political reasons all the time. Perhaps this was no different.

“Very well,” she said doubtfully. “I will marry you, if you are certain you really want that.”

He gusted a sigh. “Right, then. Well, I had better be off. I want to get to Doctor’s Commons while the office is still open.”

“You are going to get the license today?” she squeaked. She had expected it to take time to plan a wedding—a week, perhaps. A few days at the very least.

“The sooner we get married, the better it will look to the gossipmongers,” he said grimly. “If I can get a special license today, we could be married immediately and send the announcement to the papers tomorrow. That would minimize the scandal of eloping.”

He scanned her up and down, wrinkling his forehead. “It’s a pity you don’t have a better dress to be married in.”

Honora took stock of her garments. This morning, she had removed the absurd blue-green sea foam from her costume, leaving only the simple silk gown beneath. But you could see marks where she had removed the stitches.

“This is ridiculous,” she announced. She could not marry a man the day after meeting him.

“Yes, it is. But I have found that life often is. Particularly,” Lord Valance added, “in this household.”

Honora, thinking of Mr. Carrington’s plan to trap a meteorite in the hall, could not disagree.

Why had Mr. Carrington even wanted to capture a meteorite in the first place?

She had not thought to ask that last night.

Perhaps, if she was to live here, she would get a chance to ask him more about the spell. She had any number of questions.

“I will see you later, Miss Grantly.” Lord Valance rose to his feet and inclined his head.

“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.

The butler’s name is Babbage, and the housekeeper is Mrs. Dewes.

They are both sensible people and they are well used to dealing with the Quality.

” With that, he walked out of the room, leaving Honora to sit in stunned solitude.

Her mother had been right: Honora had indeed been on the verge of receiving her first proposal—just not from the man her mother wanted her to marry. If this turn of events astonished even Honora, she wondered how her mother would react when she learned of the marriage.

If the Duke of Belmont had not been in the picture, marriage to a viscount would have been quite a social coup for the Grantly family.

Honora’s father had never really tried to circulate in London society, apart from magical organizations.

Most of her parents’ acquaintances were members of the gentry, and Honora had expected to marry no higher than that.

Only Belmont’s persistent notice of Honora over the last few months had led her mother to build such lofty castles in the air.

If Belmont could be forgotten—and Honora certainly hoped she could forget him—Lord Valance would look like a perfectly acceptable suitor.

He might not live at a fashionable address, but if he had been invited to one of Belmont’s masquerades, he must have good social connections.

Honora had no idea what his income was, but he dressed well, so unless he was running up enormous debts at the haberdasher’s, he could probably afford a wife.

She frowned as she thought about living expenses.

She ought to have asked him about his financial situation before accepting his proposal, oughtn’t she?

Marrying her would not help Lord Valance financially; her marriage portion was only three thousand pounds.

Under normal circumstances, that money would be settled on her, designated to go to her children.

Without a legal settlement in place, would her new husband have control of her small fortune? Or would it still be under Uncle Robert’s control? Honora could not remember all the terms of her father’s will. But there would be plenty of time to figure that out later. What ought she to do now?

She would need to write to Mother to explain what happened, though her explanation would have to be largely fictitious. Mother had never understood why Honora disliked Belmont so much, so she would certainly not understand her running away with a stranger she met at the masquerade.

But it might be better to write that letter after the wedding ceremony so it would be absolutely clear there was no chance of Honora returning to Belmont Court. Better to ask forgiveness than permission, as the saying went.

Honora also needed to purchase new toiletries and new clothes.

Mother would probably ship her things to London after the wedding, but it would take time for them to arrive.

Probably weeks. So, Honora would need a few morning gowns and evening gowns.

But she could not do anything about that, either, as she had no money.

Was there, in fact, anything useful she could do? Must she sit twiddling her thumbs until Lord Valance returned? Ugh! She disliked being passive. Just as she was about to go in quest of a book to read (despite not having her reading glasses), someone scratched at the door of the workroom.

“You may enter,” Honora called.

Lord Valance’s valet entered the room and greeted her with a bow. “If you please, Miss Grantly, Lord Valance requested that I give you this.” He handed her a heavy purse. “He thought you might have some purchases to make,” he said tactfully.