“I believe I have further things to discuss with your father,” he said softly. “Please save a dance for me upon my return.”
The Duke of Burnrath bowed and left her. Immediately Angelica was swarmed by an array of ladies, all congratulating her as if they had not given her the cut direct only minutes ago. This cannot be happening! A silent scream caught in her throat as the situation finally dawned on her. I was ruined, then in the blink of an eye I have become the toast of the beau monde. All because a vampire wants to marry me! Everyone thought her tears and laughter were from joy. No one had the slightest idea that she was dangerously close to hysterics.
As the women cooed at her and exclaimed over the duke’s proposal, all Angelica could think was: I did not say “Yes.”
***
Ian carefully pulled away from Lady Margaret’s grasping hands again. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think the overbearing woman was on the verge of kissing his feet in gratitude. Smoothing things over with Angelica’s father had been a simple matter, for wealth and a lofty title could accomplish practically anything in these greedy, corrupt times. Mr. Winthrop had agreed that Ian would call upon the Winthrops the following evening to hammer out the betrothal contract and set a date for the wedding.
“If I may be so bold, Your Grace,” Jacob Winthrop began, wiping the sweat from his brow. “I would feel much more secure if the nuptials were performed as soon as possible. My daughter is rather… er, spirited… and I believe there could be risk of her, ah… proclivities leading her into further danger without a firmer hand than mine taking the reins at the earliest convenience.” He held up his hands defensively. “It is not that I am a weak man, but Angelica is my only child, you see, and I fear I have indulged her shamelessly.”
Ian chuckled. Many a suitor would not want to wed a girl after hearing such talk, but he wasn’t such a man. Especially since an early wedding suited his plans just fine. “If I could have her as my bride tonight, Mr. Winthrop, I would.”
Angelica’s father nearly choked on his brandy, a horrified look warping his strong features. “Good God, man. I did not mean that soon! Even if we could procure a special license at this hour, it would not at all be the thing. Imagine what people would say!”
“I was only jesting, Mr. Winthrop.” Ian was quickly tiring of the conversation. All he wanted was to feel his Angelica in his arms once more. “Now, shall we return to the ladies? I believe I owe the lovely Miss Winthrop a dance.” Without waiting for a reply, he set down his untouched glass and headed out of the room without a backward glance.
Ian’s heart clenched when the crowd surrounding his intended bride moved enough for him to see her face. She looked pale as death and her cheeks were streaked with tears. Poor little Angel, she has been through a lot this night.
Her hand felt icy as he wrapped his fingers around hers and led her to the center of the ballroom as the musicians struck up a waltz. He almost lost his step as he saw the seething fury burning in her gypsy eyes.
“Pray tell me, whatever is the matter, my dear? But please smile so as not to incite the gossip mill again,” Ian said pleasantly, as if they were exchanging small talk.
Her teeth clenched in a hideous parody of a grin and she hissed, “Why are you doing this? You can’t possibly need my dowry, and I am certain as bloody hell that you do not love me.”
In truth, he hadn’t completely expected Angelica to fly into his arms and squeal in joy at his suit, but her degree of hostility came as an unpleasant surprise. “Such language is quite unseemly, Angel.” He smiled down at her but tightened his grip on her hand. “Though I do admire that you are astute enough to know I have plenty of wealth in my own right, surely you were raised to expect that love is hardly a necessary ingredient to a successful marriage.”
Angelica’s laughter mocked him. “I am breathless with your flattery. Pray continue.”
Ian was torn between amusement at her daring and anger because she was forcing him to muddle through this awkward explanation. She should be more grateful than her mother had been for saving her and her family from social death. Leaning down as if to smell her perfume, he lowered his voice.
“Spare me from your wrath, Angel. Since you insist upon knowing, I will tell you that your reputation was not the only one in danger. Thanks to that upstart, John Polidori, and his story taking the Continent by storm, people have become suspicious of me.”
“Ah, the rumors that you are a vampire,” she replied with a smirk. “Surely you do not believe anyone took them seriously. You heard their laughter earlier.”