Notorious Rake, Innocent Lady. Bronwyn Scott

allow me to explain it to her. She is to be my wife soon enough and must learn to take direction from her husband. Young women are a sheltered lot and must be tutored in the ways of the world.’

      Julia fought the urge to cringe. It would be a cold day in hell before she took ‘direction’or anything else from the lecherous likes of Mortimer Oswalt. She struck a defiant pose, disgusted that Uncle Barnaby demurred.

      Oswalt continued. ‘Miss Prentiss, the subtleties of this arrangement may have escaped your notice. Young ladies like yourself are often not aware of the rigours associated with maintaining the lifestyle you take for granted—the horses, the country home, the gowns, the entertainments and all the fal-lals a young woman expects as her right.

      ‘It is especially difficult to raise a beautiful girl like yourself since it is much more expensive to accommodate her needs. A lovely girl stands out. She cannot afford to be seen in the same gowns as a wallflower who isn’t noticed. A pretty girl must always be shown to her best advantage. In short, a lovely daughter or, in your case, a lovely niece, can become an asset to the family.

      ‘Your uncle has fallen into need of such an asset. His coffers are empty. There is no one who will advance him any further loans. He has mortgaged all he can simply to lease this borrowed town house and to give you one Season. You are the last pearl left to the Lockhart title. Failure to make a financially advantageous match on your part will land your aunt and uncle and cousins in dun territory, to say nothing of yourself. You will suffer the deprivations with them.’ Oswalt finished his lecture and began picking his nails. ‘They have given you this Season not merely for your personal enrichment, but in hopes of getting a return on their years of investment.’

      ‘Tell me it’s not true, Uncle?’ Julia demanded, whirling on the poor man. Oswalt’s disclosures had discomfited him and he seemed to shrink in the leather chair he occupied behind the desk. Julia’s throat constricted in terror at the morbid truth.

      ‘It is true. I cannot deny any scrap of it. Our pockets are to let. We need Oswalt’s offer.’

      ‘There must be another way! I do not love him. I will not grow to love him. He is a despicable old man to buy a bride in this way.’ Julia gave her tongue free rein, not caring that Oswalt sat feet away, absorbed in his nail picking.

      ‘Julia! Hush. This outburst is most unladylike,’ her uncle admonished. He craned his neck to speak around her and she could see the fear in his eyes that Oswalt would retract his offer at the display of her temper.

      Julia put her hands on her hips, ready to do battle. ‘What about Cousin Gray’s ship? Surely the payoff from that cargo will see our problems resolved.’

      ‘Gray’s venture is fraught with risk. It is a gamble. I would rather bet on a sure thing.’ Uncle Barnaby gave her a terse scolding. ‘Remember your manners, Julia. It is not good ton to speak of money in company.’

      ‘You don’t seem to mind. You and Oswalt have divided me up like so many stock dividends on the exchange.’ The comment went beyond the pale, but if a temper tantrum got her out of this unholy arrangement, then so be it.

      Oswalt was not fazed. He gave Julia all his attention. ‘Ah, I’ve got myself a cinnamon-haired virago, have I? Perhaps all that hot blood is what I need to warm myself. My dear, I welcome your passion and I care not a whit if you love me. I certainly don’t love you, nor do I intend to cultivate affection for you. I merely need a well-bred virgin in my bed from a family who will accept my offer. All that aside, it will be exciting to tame you to my hand. Should all go well with my physician, I’ll have a special licence in hand by week’s end and we’ll be wed by Sunday.’

      ‘My wife will want to give the wedding breakfast,’ Uncle Barnaby put in, relaxing again now that the deal had not been retracted.

      Oswalt gave a gracious nod. ‘My new bride will enjoy a last chance to associate with family and friends before we depart.’ He fixed Julia with a crawling stare filled with a wealth of meaning. ‘I will have no desire to stay in London, where the pleasures of the Season might detract from our marriage. We will journey promptly to my country home in the Lake District. It’s very remote and well supplied. We won’t be bothered by outside interruptions. Once we have good news to share, I will return to town.’

      Julia swallowed hard. His libidinous intent was clear. She was to be locked away in the country. Her only task in life would be to service his base needs and produce an heir for his cit’s fortune. She was nineteen and her life was about to be over.

      She gave them each a curt nod of her head. ‘I give you good day’, then she turned hard on her heel and exited the room before either of them could see the fright they’d wrought in her with their thoughtless negotiations.

      Once in her room, Julia locked the door and leaned against its solid oak panelling, taking comfort from the thickness of the wood. The little ormolu clock on the table beneath the window suggested the whole reprehensible interview had taken a short twenty minutes. It was barely eleven o’clock in the morning and her life was nearly ruined. The good news was that her life was only ‘nearly’ ruined.

      It could have been worse, she supposed. Oswalt and her uncle could have signed the contracts already. Oswalt could have arrived with a licence and vicar in tow and married her in the study.

      Julia shuddered and thought uncharitably that the scenario was unlikely since his coveted physician wouldn’t have been on hand to certify her virginal status. Five days. That was all the time left to her, barring the unforeseen circumstance that the physician return to town earlier or that Mortimer Oswalt’s need for haste caused him to engage another physician who wasn’t on holiday.

      This was a time for action unless she reconciled herself to a life under Oswalt’s rule and hoped he didn’t live very long. It was clear from events in the study that neither protests nor legislation would avail her now. It was true, a law had been passed that allowed people to marry without parental consent, but it didn’t prevent parental arrangement of her marriage to another.

      Her uncle’s financial situation had been made painfully clear as well as the reason for her Season in London. She was the one thing her uncle had left to pawn. He’d used her on the Marriage Mart to garner an offer that would save the family from penury.

      Not for the first time, Julia cursed her unusual beauty. Ever since she’d turned fourteen and started to come into her womanly form, her looks had held an appeal for men that she could not understand. When she looked in the mirror, she saw a normal girl with green eyes that tilted up slightly at the corners, a mouth that might be described as wide, and a heap of red-brown curls her cousins often teased looked like the hue of autumn leaves. But there’d been local callers aplenty at the Grange where they lived when she started receiving last Christmas and her dance card had been full at the local assemblies. It had been the same in London after her presentation at court.

      She knew, although it was difficult to admit, that this proposal from Oswalt wasn’t the first time her uncle had used her looks to ward off a financial situation. It had never been as dire as it was now, but he’d sent her to the village on several occasions, telling her to talk to the merchants to whom he owed money, to see if they’d extend his credit a little longer.

      Julia paced the chamber, her fright giving way to anger. She would not allow herself be used again in such a shameless manner. They would have to tie her up and drag her from this house in order to see her wed to Oswalt. She stopped pacing. It would come to exactly that, she was sure of it. Dragging her to the altar, literally, would be just one of the many indignities she would be put through this week if she remained.

      Her options hit her with startling clarity. If she stayed at her uncle’s rented town house as a virginal débutante, she would have no way to fight her wedding to Oswalt. There was nothing for it. She would have to find a way on her own to break the contract. There would be severe consequences, but she would suffer them.

      Immediately, her mind raced over her options. The most obvious option was to run away. Where could she go? Who could help her? She sat down on the bed and sighed. She had no answers