“You can depend upon it; they’ve heard it already. And now you have refused his offer of marriage.” He fairly growled the words. “Well? What do you have to say?”
“If you will allow me, I will tell you what happened.” Her breath was coming fast. Calm down, Leorah. Don’t let Father make you angry. He treats everyone this way. She attempted to take a deep breath but couldn’t quite squeeze it in.
“I was out riding, and Buccaneer threw me. I broke my wrist—thank you for your concern—as you see.” She held up her splinted arm. “Lord Withinghall stopped his carriage, as he happened to be driving by, and offered to take me to Glyncove Abbey. On the way, the carriage broke apart, and the horses were separated from the carriage and ran off. The carriage rolled down the hill and overturned, and Lord Withinghall broke his leg. I was unable to catch the horses, and it started to rain. We both fell asleep while waiting for someone to happen along. It was not even midnight when Mr. Moss and Mr. Pinegar discovered us.”
“Hmph. Why didn’t the viscount catch the horses?”
“I told you, Father. His leg was broken.”
“Never mind. I once marched two miles on a broken leg.”
Leorah expelled a noisy breath. “Not everyone’s break is the same. Lord Withinghall was unable to walk.”
“Is it true he proposed marriage to you?”
“Yes.”
“And you refused him.”
“I did.”
“Well, you can go and accept him. He has ruined your reputation, and if he is any gentleman and wishes to preserve his influence in Parliament and rise to become the next Prime Minister and First Lord of the Treasury, then he will marry you.”
Her breath was shallower than ever. “I will not marry him.”
“Why not?” His voice was so loud it seemed to rattle the windowpanes.
“I do not love him, and he does not love me.”
“No one cares about such mishmash.” He swore, his face flushing red. “The man is a viscount, and he knows his duty. And now it’s time you learned yours.”
“And what do you mean by that?”
“I mean that you shall marry Lord Withinghall and stop this nonsense. It was a perfectly good proposal, made in front of several witnesses. There is no reason you should not accept it.”
“The fact that I do not love him, that he does not love me, is not reason enough?”
“It certainly is not!”
“Do you think that I will accept the kind of cold, loveless marriage that you and Mother have? No. I won’t. You can beat me and cast me out, but I will never accept that. Never.”
Leorah’s hands were shaking.
“Nonsense! Utter nonsense you speak, girl. No one’s ever beaten you a day in your life, though it may well have done you good if I had. If you were any other girl in the world”—he started shaking his finger at her—“you’d leap at the chance to marry the viscount. He’s young and well respected and rich. What more could you want? Utter nonsense.”
“Do you deny that you and Mother have a cold, loveless marriage?”
His face turned redder. “You are impertinent. Your mother and I are perfectly content. And that has nothing to do with the fact that you will lower your family if you refuse to marry Lord Withinghall.”
Leorah wanted to scream at her father, to stomp her foot and rail at his insensitivity. But if she spoke even one more word, the threatening tears would surely spill out. Instead of venting her emotions on him, she turned to flee from the room.
She yanked the door open and rushed into the hallway, stopping short as she nearly collided with someone’s chest.
Lord Withinghall steadied her with a hand on her shoulder as he gripped his cane in his other.
How much of their conversation had he heard? She avoided looking at him and broke away, hurrying down the hallway as tears ran down her cheeks.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Edward stepped into the study as Mr. Langdon turned toward him, his eyes widening.
“Lord Withinghall.” He bowed formally. “How good of you to accept our invitation.”
“Mr. Langdon. I could not help overhearing your . . . conversation with your daughter.”
“Yes, well, she is a good girl . . .” He seemed not to know what to say next, his brows drawing together. “A girl’s reputation is her most precious asset. Would you not agree?”
“Only superseded by her character, I imagine.”
“Yes, yes. And you are willing to marry her? She has twenty thousand pounds coming to her husband.”
“I have offered to marry her and was quite willing, but she refused me.”
“She can be brought to reason.”
“Are you suggesting that she be forced to marry me against her will? For I am not willing to participate in any such scheme. Your daughter has refused me, and that is the end of it, sir.”
Mr. Langdon’s face colored a bit. He stammered, then said, “Of course, my lord. Allow me to offer my apologies for her refusal. She is a rather obstinate, opinionated sort of girl.”
“There is no need. Now I have business to attend to. Good day, sir.”
He left the room. A growl still hovered in his throat at the way the man had spoken to his daughter. Perhaps Edward should have defended Leorah more, should have said she was not an obstinate, opinionated girl and that the man should not say such things about her. But hadn’t Edward said the very same things about her and more? A pang of guilt stabbed his stomach.
Where might Miss Langdon have gone?
He should not seek her out. It was dangerous to associate with her at all—as he had proven.
Still, her father had spoken unjustly to her, and she had been very upset. He would simply see where she had gone and send someone after her if she needed assistance. Quite possibly he would not be able to find her anyway.
He went out the back door that led into the gardens. He did not see her anywhere amongst the shrubbery, so he turned toward the stables. It was a pleasant morning, after all. Why should he not walk toward the stables?
No one was in or near the stable yard, so he went inside. He stood near the open door, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dim light. All was calm and hushed. A horse was snuffling, but there were no other sounds. Perhaps his assumption that Miss Langdon would come to the stable had been incorrect. He took a few more steps inside and looked down the long row of stalls. Toward the middle of the row, Miss Langdon stood with her arms around a big chestnut-brown horse, her cheek pressed against the horse’s neck.
Edward stepped back quickly so she would not see him.
He could hear her sniffing, and then a watery voice said, “Father cares not a whit for what I want. He would force me to marry someone who despised me if it raised my position—his position.” A muffled sob followed these words.
His heart clenched, twisting painfully inside his chest. The very idea that anyone could make the bold and fearless Miss Langdon cry . . . He closed his eyes and shook his head.