“You made everything worse. Mr. Norwood will never believe that we were engaged. And you can’t bribe him to publish my novel, I want to publish it on its own merits.”
“It’s good, Ana. Truly, it is.”
“That doesn’t matter if no one wants to read it.”
“Iwant to read it. Will you give me the second half to read?”
“The only existing copy is at Norwood & Pennington. I thought it would be buried there forever. It’s the Clovercote novel he wants.”
“Then write it and publish them both.”
“Why don’t you write a bloody novel! You’re so good at creating fantastical fictions such as our false engagement. You can’t marry me. We’ll... we’ll wait a few weeks and then break it off. No harm done.”
“You’ve been out of society too long. Within the hour this story will spread the entire length and breadth of Mayfair, and then beyond to the newspapers. You are my fiancée in truth. We were caught kissing in the library. Your hair was mussed, your lips were swollen, we were in each other’s arms.”
“You don’t have to ruin your life just because they saw us kissing. If you’d only backed me up on the research explanation, we could have avoided this situation altogether.”
“We are marrying by special license within the week.”
“Don’t be silly! You can’t marry a common little hellion like me.”
“There’s nothing common about you. You’re a firebrand that burned through my life, permanently altering its landscape. You may be small of stature, but your impact is monumental.”
“You know that you were meant to choose a noble bride, raised to be a duchess, like any number of those alluring ladies back there who were dying to dance with you.”
“It doesn’t matter whom I was meant to marry. This happened, and that’s the end of it.”
“It’s not the end of anything! I refuse to believe this is our only solution. I’m not the lady you would have chosen to wed.”
“And I’m not the handsome, laughing gentleman you dreamed of in your letters to your father.”
“That was a foolish schoolgirl’s dream. And you are handsome. Too handsome, damn you, or none of this would have happened.”
“Neither here nor there. We will marry. You will bear me an heir. Then you will be free to spend your life as you will. You won’t be bothered by me.”
“Because marriage is solely about an heir for you.”
“Well... yes. I always knew I’d have to marry someday. I’d been putting it off, but now I must do my duty.”
“Duty, honor... is that all you ever talk about?”
“There is an aggrieved tone to your voice.”
“Because...” She lifted her shoulders and set them back down again with a huff. “No young lady likes to think that she’s merely convenient. That she’s interchangeable with any number of otherwomen. That it’s only her womb that holds any real value in this relationship.”
“I didn’t say any of that.”
“That’s the problem. You don’t say enough. You hide behind these monosyllabic responses and short, terse sentences. I’m always searching for precisely the right words to express emotions or to describe the world as I see it. You’re always biting back words, swallowing your feelings. I want to know what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling.”
“I’m feeling remorse. I lost control. I never should have kissed you.”
“We kissed each other.”
“And now your reputation will be ruined if we don’t marry swiftly.”
She set her jaw. “I won’t marry you.”
“You will.”