Scandal Becomes Her. Shirlee Busbee

The Anslowes were unaware of his connection with Lord Tynedale and he had seen no reason to enlighten them. But Miss Anslowe’s abduction by Tynedale had been another reason for a hurried marriage—with the lady safely married to him, not even Tynedale would dare hint of abduction gone wrong.

      Julian sighed. It had seemed wise to get it all behind them as quickly as possible—the sooner they wed, the sooner the nine day’s wonder surrounding their unexpected engagement would end. And there was a practical reason, too. In another week or two, except for a few stragglers, the majority of the ton would desert London until the spring. By marrying next Wednesday, there would be a respectable contingent to celebrate their nuptials—and spread the word. By the next Season his engagement and marriage to Miss Anslowe would be old gossip and soon forgotten.

      Smiling wryly, Julian said, “There is nothing suspicious about the sudden marriage—I wish to spare my lady as much gossip as possible. It is far better that we stand the nonsense all at once, than to have it dragged out over the winter and into next spring.”

      Talcott could get no more out of him and had to be content. They took their leave of each other, Talcott promising to head immediately to Boodle’s to begin lamenting Julian’s fate. Julian made plans to call upon his bride-to-be.

      Let into Sir Edward’s fashionable townhouse by the family butler, Chatham, Julian was whisked into the study, where he found Sir Edward seated behind his desk.

      As Julian approached Sir Edward rose from his chair and, a wide smile on his face, shook his hand. “Lord Wyndham. A pleasure. Please, please take a seat. Some refreshment?”

      While the most pressing issues had already been decided upon, the business arrangements of the marriage, money, and settlements, had not been finalized. These matters were quickly handled by the two men, Julian agreeing to a generous settlement for his wife-to-be and Sir Edward laying out the extent of her fortune—a fortune that would be under Julian’s control once they were wed.

      Since Nell had little say in the matter she did not even know that her future bridegroom was in the house until a servant tapped on the door to her rooms and passed on her father’s request that she join him and Lord Wyndham in the library.

      For an instant she considered sending back a message that she was indisposed. But knowing that there was no escape, she took a swift look in the cheval glass, shook out the folds of her kerseymere gown and pinched roses into her cheeks. A critical glance at the curls that framed her face, the remainder of the tawny mass caught up in a braid at the back of her head, satisfied her that she bore little resemblance to the harridan the earl had first seen. Then, berating herself for caring what Lord Wyndham thought of her, she turned away from the glass and left the room.

      Reaching the double doors to the library, she took a breath, stifled the urge to run and pulled open the door. Like a trim frigate with fighting canvass spread, she sailed into the room.

      In the act of raising a glass of hock to his lips, Julian froze. Stunned, he stared at the lovely young woman who stalked across the length of the library and came to halt before him.

      “My lord,” she said, her manner stiff.

      Julian made a polite reply, gathering his thoughts. He could hardly believe that this entrancing creature was the same female he had met just twenty-four hours ago. She was taller than he recalled, but the soft curves of the slender form beneath the sage green gown he remembered very well. Her sea green eyes still held the same wary expression and the strawberry-hued mouth was still just as tempting, but gone was the bedraggled urchin he had first spied. In her place stood a fashionable young woman who would have instantly elicited a demand for an introduction from him if their paths had crossed previously. Where in Hades, he thought, had she been hiding all this time?

      “Thank you for joining us so promptly, my dear,” said Sir Edward, reaching out a hand to bring his daughter to his side.

      Nell started, hoping her face did not show the shock she felt at the sight of the gentleman standing next to her father. From their first encounter, she’d had a memory of a tall, raffish fellow, a man with a beard-shadowed face and hard eyes, a man who had made her think of a highwayman or ruffian, and she was having difficulty reconciling that memory with the elegant man before her. He was meticulously groomed, his thick dark hair waving near his temples, the clean cut of his jaw and lips no longer half-concealed beneath black stubble; the dark blue coat and nankeen breeches fit him superbly, the white cravat arranged by an expert hand. The effect was staggering. She was certain that she had met other men as attractive and urbane as the Earl of Wyndham, but at the moment, she could not remember one of them.

      Dazedly she let her father pull her beside him, only half-aware of the warmth and comfort of his hand. Tearing her gaze from Lord Wyndham’s face, she dropped her eyes to the floor, her thoughts careening.

      Having observed the effect they had on each other, Sir Edward bit back a smile. A twinkle in his eyes, he patted Nell’s shoulder and said, “I shall leave you two alone for a few minutes…I believe that Lord Wyndham wishes to speak privately with you.”

      With trepidation Nell watched her father leave the room. She did not like this at all. Not the fact that she was being rushed into marriage with a man she barely knew, nor the fact that she found that same man far too attractive for her own good. Resentfully she shot a look at him from between her gold lashes, her heart leaping when she discovered that he was watching her intently.

      Her chin lifted. “What? Why are you staring at me so?”

      He smiled and Nell blinked at the powerful charm in that simple expression. Oh, lud! she thought. Her wits must have fled completely if a mere smile from him could make her feel so bedazzled.

      “Forgive me,” Julian said, amusement in his voice. “I could not help myself—I did not expect you to, er, clean up so well. You are very beautiful—far more beautiful than I remembered.”

      Nell snorted, ignoring the spurt of pleasure his words gave her. “You do not have to court me, my lord,” she muttered. “My father has made it clear that we are to be married on Wednesday next and that nothing short of death will prevent it.”

      Sir Edward had hinted that his daughter was not happy with the situation, but Julian had not quite believed him. Without being vain, he knew he was, after all, quite a catch. Her words and manner, however, made it apparent that Sir Edward had not underestimated the fact that she was singularly unimpressed by him—and his title and wealth. And to think, Julian mused, that instead of this angry-eyed little shrew, he could have found himself a sweet, docile young thing to marry—a fawning creature who would not have caused him a moment’s distress. Fighting back a grin, his gaze swept up and down her form before returning to her face and lingering on the stubborn jaw and willful mouth. His new bride, he decided, was going to be a challenge…and a handful—if the defiant set of her head was anything to go by.

      Aloud, he merely asked, “And would you prefer death to marriage with me?”

      Nell’s lips tightened. How ungentlemanly of him! She shot him a hostile glance. “Of course not—I am not a fool.”

      “Then don’t act like one.”

      Nell started at the crisp tone. Some of her belligerence fading, but not much, she demanded, “What do you mean?”

      “I mean, my dear, that we are in this together. Both of our lives have changed in a manner neither one of us could have imagined twenty-four hours ago. Do not forget that you are not the only one being forced into marriage with a stranger. We can either make the best of it, or we can spend our time making ourselves unhappy. The choice is ours. I, for one, do not intend to spend the rest of my life in misery.”

      “But aren’t you angry at what happened? Doesn’t it make you furious that you are compelled to marry a woman you hardly know?” Nell’s lips trembled and she looked down at the floor. Honesty compelled her to add, “You will be marrying a woman who has been branded half-mad by society and, as you may have noticed, a woman who is also a cripple.”

      Julian tipped up her chin, his hand warm against