“Miss Langdon, you are a gentleman’s daughter, the sister of a great friend, and from a most respectable family. I repeat my wishes that you would accept my marriage proposal.” Perhaps he should say something about being fond of her, or of being attached to her, but there was still a part of him that rebelled at the thought of marrying such a reckless girl.
Suddenly, she got that defiant look in her eye that he’d seen many times before. She would throw politeness to the winds, and not only he, but the others in the room as well, were about to hear exactly what she thought of his proposal.
He was no longer at all certain he would succeed in convincing her that she must marry him.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
How dare he make such a proposal to her? Did he think she would leap at the chance to marry him, to enter into a loveless marriage? He didn’t even like her and could only cite her family connections and saving her reputation as his reasons for wanting to marry her.
“Lord Withinghall . . .” She paused a moment, knowing she should express a sense of honor at being the object of his proposal, but indeed, she felt none. She should say polite nonsense, the usual pleasant lies, but she utterly refused to play the hypocrite.
“Lord Withinghall,” she began again, “I appreciate your deep sense of duty and decorum that forces you to ask for my hand, but I must refuse your offer. You do not love or esteem me, and I myself have formed no attachment to you. Therefore, an alliance between us is . . .”
Repugnant.
Abhorrent.
“Impossible.”
“You do understand that your reputation is at stake,” Lord Withinghall said with all seriousness.
His words, if anything, increased her determination to refuse him. And yet, a distinct gentleness—one might almost call it tenderness—pervaded his voice. Why did it stir up strange feelings inside her? She had thought Lord Withinghall incapable of anything but cold insensitivity—like her father.
She was probably imagining it.
“The gossipmongers will not allow you to escape this incident unscathed,” he went on, his eye fixed on hers. “Your name and mine will be forever linked.”
“I will not be coerced into marrying someone who does not love me. Thank you for your offer of marriage and for trying to save my reputation, but my answer is no. I do not wish to be maligned, but I also do not believe that marriage to you is my only option. I will not be frightened into making such an important decision simply because idle people have nothing better to do than gossip.”
And besides all that, being married to Lord Withinghall would be a living nightmare! Married to someone who disapproved of her, who believed her to be a hoyden, reckless, and without proper restraint? Such an alliance would be in every way insupportable! The very thought of living with a man who despised her, who would treat her coldly and without affection, made her close her eyes momentarily as she forced herself to control the shudder that threatened to overtake her.
Julia placed a gentle hand on Leorah’s arm, reminding her to try to calm her breathing.
When no one had spoken for several moments, Mr. Tilney said, “Are we to believe that no is your final word on the subject? Will you not give up your unfeminine independence to marry this respectable man, commendable in every way, a viscount of considerable wealth and influence?”
Condemnation was etched in the tone of his voice, in the choice of his words, and in the wrinkles in his forehead and deep creases surrounding the drooping corners of his mouth.
“You are correct, Mr. Tilney.” She lifted her chin, feeling her courage rise at the undeserved rebuke.
“Very well.” He stared at her from beneath sagging, bullfrog eyes. “I shall not speak of this affair, as far as I am able. If I am pressed, I shall say that neither of you were to blame, nor was there any wrongdoing at all. However, I do not imagine it will satisfy those who wish to believe the worst about a viscount and Member of Parliament, but I shall do what I can to stem the flood of slander that is already underway.” He frowned, as though angry at the insurmountable task before him.
Leorah fixed her eyes on the disapproving clergyman. “I am sure the viscount would have been extremely fortunate to have captured me for his wife, but I am also afraid the two of us have not had sufficient opportunity to form an attachment, and therefore it is not to be. But he shall recover tolerably from it in good time, and I shall recover even more quickly from the loss of those gossipmongers who, being complete hypocrites, shall shun me from their company. And now if you will excuse me, gentlemen, I have other guests.”
With that, Leorah gently pulled away from Julia’s light hand on her arm and stood. Lord Withinghall’s face seemed carved from stone, and the others watched her in silence.
One glance at her brother made her stomach sink. He was not, as she had hoped he might be, hiding an amused grin. Instead, he looked quite grave.
“Lord Withinghall asked you to marry him?” Felicity Mayson stared, the tea biscuit forgotten halfway to her lips.
Elizabeth Mayson’s teacup slipped from her hand to the floor, rolling and spilling tea on the carpet.
Leorah reached for another cup to replace it. “He was practically forced to ask me, as a gentleman.” Leorah blinked slowly, affecting an air of unconcern to hide the fact that her heart was still thumping hard against her ribs at the prospect of becoming the curmudgeonly viscount’s wife.
“And you told him no! But he’s Lord Withinghall—a viscount!”
Elizabeth’s lips were bloodless, and she swayed in her chair. Felicity grabbed a fan from a nearby table and began fanning the girl’s face, sending stray hairs flying about her head.
“Leorah, I don’t think you can say he was forced to ask you to marry him.” Felicity hovered over her sister. “Most men, I dare say, would not have done that. Unless, of course, they were after your twenty thousand pounds, and we both know Lord Withinghall has no need of your money.” Felicity lowered her voice. “Do you think he might be in love with you?”
Elizabeth’s eyes fluttered, and she let out a tiny gasp.
Felicity fanned faster. “Don’t mind Elizabeth.” Felicity frowned slightly and shook her head. “She gets overcome at the least little thing.”
“I do not,” Elizabeth protested weakly, but she remained slumped against the back of the sofa. “It’s only the thought of you . . . saying no to Lord Withinghall. He’s so frightening.”
“Oh, nonsense. He’s nothing of the kind,” Leorah said. She held out a new cup of tea and told Elizabeth, “Drink this. It will help.”
Elizabeth took the cup in trembling hands and drank a sip.
Leorah took a sip of her tea and a bite of biscuit as she sat across from Felicity, who was still fanning Elizabeth.
“Won’t it be even more awkward now, seeing him every day, after you refused his offer of marriage?”