Miss Cameron's Fall from Grace. Helen Dickson

am a man of honour, I wanted to be sure of the facts before I asked him to do the right thing by you.’

      Delphine tilted her head to one side as she considered her seducer coldly. ‘And will you, Lord Fitzwaring? Do the right thing by me, I mean,’ she said, resenting his effect on her, the masculine assurance of his bearing.

      ‘Of course. Your father and I have discussed the matter and it is our intention to see that you are cared for.’

      ‘Indeed?’ She laughed lightly, a laugh laced with bitterness. ‘I can vouch for my father’s concern, but when I recall your less-than-gentlemanly treatment of me on our previous encounter, you must forgive me if I doubt yours, my lord. Do you think it pleases me to plead for my salvation from the man who stole my virginity? Do what you will. Seek out your own pride and honour, but do no hope to find your conscience clean and laundered at my door, Colonel.’

      Stephen’s face hardened and his eyes took on a malignant expression. ‘I would advise you to have a care,’ he ground out, leaning forwards slightly so that his furious eyes were level with hers. ‘I did not have to come here today. I could have pleaded ignorance due to my inebriated state at the time and told your father that he was mistaken.’

      In no mood to be charitable or diplomatic, Delphine smiled mockingly into his eyes. ‘Your head was sodden with drink—that I do remember—and I also recall you have a rather attractive little mole on your—’

      ‘Enough,’ he thundered, thoroughly enraged by this chit.

      Delphine watched the man’s temper fraying—his eyes were dark and strong emotion was choking him.

      Bringing himself quickly under control, in a more reasonable tone he said, ‘I cannot do more than apologise for my conduct and offer recompense. I have told your father that I am willing to marry you and he has my guarantee that you will be supported in a manner suitable to your upbringing.’

      Delphine’s lips curved in what resembled a sneer rather than a smile. She could sense the slowly burning anger in him at being manipulated into marrying her. ‘How extremely generous of you, Lord Fitzwaring. Where do you propose we start?’

      Her father looked at her with cold eyes. ‘Enough, Delphine. You are too impertinent. You would do well to watch your manners. It is because of your disobedience and your determination to flout the rules that govern the lives of respectable young ladies that you find yourself in this mess. Can’t you get it through your head that you are sullied—damaged goods? By any moral code you are disgraced. If your affair with Lord Fitzwaring comes to light and it becomes known that you are no longer virtuous, every door in London will be slammed in your face.’

      Delphine stiffened with indignation. ‘Papa, it was not an affair. I—’

      ‘Silence. Your mother and I always said you were a lost cause. This latest in a long line of escapades proves we were right. It is with considerable distaste that I do this, but I must, for your sake, insist that Lord Fitzwaring brings you to the altar.’

      Delphine seethed with anger and humiliation. Her father was asking her to enter into a binding contract to change her life, something that would determine her entire future. She had seen so little of the world and knew so little of men. She had attended only a few sedate gatherings with her mother, only a handful of dances and soirées. She had not mixed in society like most girls of her age and all she had to measure Stephen Fitzwaring against were the men who came to call on her twin sisters, Rose and Fern, and the men who had married her older sisters. For the most part she found them boring and not in the least appealing. Stephen Fitzwaring was not like any one of them.

      ‘But I have no desire to wed Lord Fitzwaring.’

      ‘It is not open to discussion. He has agreed, though God knows that if I were a violent man I would take a horsewhip to him. Because of him, if this is not dealt with in the proper manner, you will be subjected to public censure and a scandal that will ruin you and make us a laughing stock. Which is why, two days hence, the two of you will be married by special licence.’

      Completely taken aback, Delphine’s eyes widened with alarm. ‘Why the haste?’

      Stephen raised a finely arched brow. ‘My duties call me back to Spain immediately,’ he informed her coolly.

      ‘Indeed?’ She tossed her head imperiously. ‘That is no great disappointment to me.’

      Stephen’s eyes narrowed with irritation. ‘You are severely lacking in respect and discretion when you speak to me. When I am your husband, things will be different.’

      His words failed to anger her. She gave him that amused smile, slightly scornful, such as she had seen her father give on occasion, which generally infuriated people.

      ‘When you become my husband, I can only hope the war with France is of long duration and that your military duties will keep you in Spain,’ she asserted. ‘Until then, if you address me in a civil manner, you will not find me lacking in respect. It is something that comes naturally to me, except when I meet intemperance.’

      ‘Enough,’ her father cut in. ‘Let us get on with it. There are arrangements to be made.’

      ‘Of course,’ Stephen said, speaking precisely. ‘Under the circumstances it would be best if Delphine remained here until I return from Spain. I shall then take her to my home in Cornwall.’

      ‘No, sir, you will not,’ Lord Cameron asserted forcefully. ‘As your wife my daughter’s place will be in your house. After the ceremony you will take her there directly. I am sure you will not be delayed too long in rejoining your regiment.’

      Stephen turned his frigid gaze upon his future father-in-law. ‘And of course you insist upon that?’

      His lordship fixed the colonel with an unwavering stare. ‘Yes, I do.’

      A muscle twitched angrily in Stephen’s cheek. ‘Very well, although I shall have to leave almost immediately and will have no time to see her settled in.’

      ‘I think I shall manage perfectly well without you,’ Delphine said coldly.

      Stephen looked at his future wife. ‘Marriage to me is what your father wants and marriage to me is what you shall have for the rest of your life.’

      ‘Do you forget there is a war on, my lord? Men are being killed out there. There is every chance you won’t return.’

      He laughed low in his throat and his eyes were merciless. ‘Have no fear, Delphine. I have no desire to leave you too soon.’

      ‘There is the matter of Delphine’s dowry to discuss before you go. I am prepared to make a generous settlement.’

      ‘Keep it. I want nothing from you.’

      His reply drew a surprised gasp from Delphine. Her father stared at the colonel for a moment, bewildered.

      ‘Did I hear you correctly, sir?’

      ‘You did,’ Stephen replied coldly. ‘I have no intention of taking payment for marrying my wife.’

      ‘But—it is normal practice.’

      ‘It is not a practice I approve of. I am capable of financing Delphine’s needs, Lord Cameron.’

      ‘I will not be a burden to you, Colonel,’ Delphine told him, ‘socially or financially. At least that way I can manage to retain some shred of self-esteem.’

      Stephen looked at her with hard eyes. ‘As my wife, you will hardly be in a position to maintain yourself without me. You will find that out soon enough.’

      With that he inclined his head to them both and walked to the door. Delphine caught a glimpse of his angry, aristocratic profile as he paused for a moment, then he was gone with only a pledge that he would not be late for the ceremony.

      It was over. Delphine was now the wife of Lord Fitzwaring and on the point of leaving London. When they had left the church her face had been ashen. Impatient to dispose of