Deliciously Wicked (18 page)

It wasn't an accusation, but rather an honest question, and not one full of judgment or strife. It deserved an honest answer. “No, sir, I wasn't.”

“Tell me, then, why you believe you deserve my daughter?”

“I never said I deserved her. But I played a part in ruining her reputation. She put that reputation on the line to salvage mine and I owe her this courtesy.”

“Women do not want to marry out of courtesy.”

“Duly noted.” But it was all he could offer her.

“I do not mean this to sound crude, but your station in life is considerably lower than my daughter's. Why would a father allow such a match?”

“I work in a factory, Mr. Piddington, because it is honest, hard work. I work at your factory because your wages are the best and because the extra allows me to send some funds to my family. But do not be so hasty to assume anything about my station in life based on my position with your factory.”

Piddington's eyebrows raised. “Explain.”

“As greatly reluctant as I am to use this, as it will only result in unwanted effects on my life, I must be honest with you about my family lineage. While I have
no funds, nor estate to offer, I have a name and a title that should afford enough protection of Meg.”

Mr. Piddington's eyebrows raised in surprise. “You have a title?”

Gareth drew in a great breath. The gossips had spent considerable time discussing the viscount's wicked ways and how his debauchery and gambling had destroyed his young wife and five children. Once Piddington knew he was that Mandeville, he might not agree to the marriage. Gareth reached into his pocket and retrieved the special license and held it out to her father.

“My father was a viscount,” he began. “I inherited the title when he died. I was twelve.”

Her father glanced at the license, nodded, then handed it back.

“I mostly grew up in Ireland with my mother's family,” Gareth continued. “We had lost the estate and all the money and there was no way to pay for my schooling, so I have no formal education, but I can assure you that I'm not ignorant.”

“I don't think anyone would accuse you of being ignorant.” Perhaps Piddington did not recognize the name and did not remember all the harsh things said about his family.

Piddington thought a moment before speaking again. “I can see that you were quite reluctant to share all of that. I respect your honesty and your honor. You may marry my daughter. If she will have you.”

“Thank you, sir. I have one other request.”

“Which is?”

“That Meg not know about my title. Not yet. I need time to decide how best to tell her. I'd prefer to have everything decided before I discuss it with her.”

“I can assure you that Meg can handle this information. But I will respect your wishes,” Piddington said. “A question for you, Viscount Mandeville?”

Gareth cringed at the name, but nodded.

“Do you care for my daughter?”

Now that Gareth hadn't expected. Who would have pegged Piddington for a sentimentalist? But then Meg had said that her parents had a great love. How did he answer such a question? He desired her, but her father wouldn't want to hear that any more than Gareth wanted to share it. He did not love her, nor could he ever, but he found her company enjoyable and he didn't want her to come to any harm. He cared about her, he couldn't deny that.

“Yes, I do.”

“Very well. If you can persuade her to say yes to your proposal, you may certainly wed her.”

“She'll say yes,” was all he said.

H
er father had said Meg had gone to her friend Charlotte's for the afternoon. So Gareth currently sat in a carriage on his way to London. Now was as good a time as any to secure his bride.

Piddington had loaned him the carriage and instructed the driver on where to take him. When it rolled to a stop in front of a brick town home with a black door, Gareth chastised himself for not rehearsing the right words to say. Admittedly this was not to be a proposal with promises of love and sweet whispers, but it would have been nice to have something prepared. This was about honor and responsibility. That was the difference between Gareth and his father. Gareth knew he had responsibilities, and he would never walk away from one.

Gareth knocked on the door and was greeted by a young girl. He hadn't lived in Society since he was
very young, but he knew enough to know that this family was financially limited, despite their good name, to be unable to hire a butler. He and his family had never had any servants either. Disgraceful behavior in the eyes of many of London's elite.

The young girl's eyes widened. “May I help you?”

“Is this the Reed residence?”

The girl sneered. “Are you here for Charlotte?”

“No, I'm actually looking for Meg Piddington. Is she here?”

“She is, indeed.” The girl gave him a big smile and allowed him entrance. “They're in the parlor. Follow me. My name is Frances.”

“Well, Frances, thank you for your assistance,” Gareth said, then introduced himself.

Frances opened the parlor doors with great drama, then introduced him with all the enthusiasm of a royal footman.

Meg and Charlotte both popped to their feet.

“Gareth?” Meg said. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to speak with you and it couldn't wait.” He leveled his gaze on Charlotte. “I beg your pardon, Miss Reed, I do realize this is your home, but would you allow me a few minutes of Meg's time? Alone?” No one could ever accuse him of not having manners when he needed them.

The tall beauty smiled. “Of course.” Then, with great reluctance, she shuffled her sister out the door and closed it behind them.

Meg still stood. Her features pleaded with him to explain his presence. She waited a few moments more before speaking.

“Have you come to chastise me? Because I've
honestly had enough of that today.” She began to pace. “I do realize that you, above all others, have the right to chastise me, but could you consider me well punished?” She stopped and looked at him.

He started to speak, but before he could say anything, she continued. “Oh, go ahead, I know you're furious with me. But you should take a moment to see things from my perspective. I honestly was doing this for your own benefit. I know you won't stand up for yourself to anyone, and I find that incredibly frustrating. You didn't steal those boxes, and there is no legitimate reason why you should lose your job because of some anonymous person's feelings against you. So you may be angry with me if you must, but I felt it was the right thing to do.”

He listened to her carry on for what must have been three full minutes. She was so energetic and expressive and he could feel himself being pulled into her presence. The very aspects of her that he'd expected to drive him mad on that first night were now the things about her that just made her Meg. Unique from any other woman he'd ever encountered. She was mesmerizing, and the attraction he felt to her was undeniable. One thing could be said about marrying Meg; they would light up the nights with their passion.

She stopped walking and turned to face him. He nearly expected her to stamp her foot.

“Are you finished now?” he asked.

She swallowed. “Yes,” she said quietly.

“I did not seek you out to chastise you. I do have better things to do with my time than that.”

“Oh,” she said.

“But I did come to discuss something with you. Your
admission has put us in a damn precarious position. It's not the decision I would have made, nor choose for you to make. There is no good reason to sacrifice oneself for another. Most people don't deserve gestures of such kindness. But it is done and now we must live with the repercussions.”

Her features were etched in confusion.

Ah hell, he'd never proposed before and he was already bumbling it up. Another reason that he should have at least thought about what to say before he got there. Honor, responsibility, and passion. There were worse attributes to find in a bridegroom. The list had grown since this morning. Surely those elements were good seconds to promises of eternal love.

“I've come here to ask for your hand,” he said quickly.

“My hand in what?” she asked.

“Don't be coy, Meg. Marriage. Your hand in marriage.”

“Are you quite serious?” she asked. Then she frowned. “I thought you despised me.”

“I won't lie to you, Meg. I'm angry about this.” He rubbed his hand down his face. “I also know why you did it. Now it is my time to do the honorable thing.”

“Honor,” she repeated.

“Yes. Women do not dream of wedding for honor. They want love and other promises, but I cannot make those promises. You are as level-headed as any female I've ever encountered, so certainly you were not lounging about imagining marriage proposals in the form of soliloquies of love.”

She bristled. “Of course not.”

“So you agree?” he asked.

She shrugged and walked to the window. “I don't see the point. I appreciate your effort in trying to salvage my reputation, but there is no need. I'm quite content to stay in my father's home and continue working at the factory. It's what I wanted.”

“I don't believe that for a second. You told me there had been a time when you wanted a family. Wanted children. I don't think you've given that up, at least the desire for it. I may not be able to give you everything, but I can give you that.” It was the truth. He could go days and not speak to anyone and scarcely notice. But Meg began to fidget if the world around her had been quiet for very long.

Meg said nothing for a long while, simply stared at him.

He stepped over to her. “I'm not going to beg you, Meg. But I won't allow you to ruin your reputation on my behalf.” He put his hand on her back. “I can't. I've already spoken with your father—”

She stiffened. “When did you see my father?”

“This morning. He's already agreed to the match.”

She blanched, as if he'd struck her. Pulling back the curtain, she looked out the window. “I see.”

“It is settled then,” he said.

She nodded.

Gareth had never seen her so defeated. As if she'd lost every friend she had. Was the prospect of marriage to him that horrifying?

 

Two proposals, and neither was the material of dreams. She'd gone to Charlotte's this morning because she couldn't bear to see her father at the moment. Not only had she intentionally ruined herself,
but she foolishly rejected a proposal meant to save her. She'd been going over her decision again and again in her mind, and while Charlotte had convinced her that she'd been right to decline Henry's offer, Meg was uncertain. She hadn't wanted to say yes, but she had done a poor job being responsible thus far. Had she thought more of her responsibilities from the start, she would not have been in this situation and would have received neither proposal.

And so when Gareth had arrived with the same question for her and approval from her father, she couldn't deny him. She couldn't say no to a second attempt to save her name.

Two proposals in one day, and in the end, she had accepted one of them, and while he made no promises of love, Meg knew she'd made the only decision she could under the circumstances. She was trying to pinpoint the specific emotion coursing through her body when Charlotte burst through the door.

“Well, what did he want?” she asked.

“Did you even wait until he had stepped outside?” Meg asked.

“Oh, honestly, Meg, does it really matter? Come on, I'm dying here, please put me out of my misery and tell me what it was that he wanted.”

Meg thought on it a moment. How did you tell your best friend that you'd accepted a marriage proposal? Especially under such conditions. Charlotte had received more proposals than any other girl Meg knew, yet she had declined each of them, waiting for the one man who would light her on fire. Meg had accepted the second proposal she'd ever received, and it was nothing more than a duty of honor.

Granted, many marriages were built on such agreements, and they endured and even blossomed. At least she and Gareth had a friendship of sorts; that was more than some women achieved. She'd done the right and responsible thing, yet she felt unsettled.

“I must say,” Charlotte said, “he is a most handsome man. I can certainly understand why you fancy him so much. What was so important that he traveled all the way to my home to see you?”

“He came here to ask me to be his wife and I accepted,” she said and looked away so she would miss the disappointment in her friend's eyes.

“Are you happy about that decision?” Charlotte asked guardedly.

“I thought after declining Henry's proposal, another would be pushing my poor father's patience. He won't admit it, but I know he was heartbroken about the compromise. I think he believes me that my virtue is still intact, but to think that my reputation could be ruined—it was a lot for him to absorb. In the end, I could have made a worse match.”

Saying yes to Gareth's proposal had been the easier choice. She recognized that. It was no great sacrifice to marry a man with whom she had shared passionate embraces. But it was also a more frightening choice. Henry would have been respectable and…safe—she would never have worried about pain or loss. He was a kind soul, but Meg knew she never would have loved him. With Gareth she wasn't so certain.

She'd already been treading on dangerous territory by giving in to the passion between them. She'd be a fool not to recognize that her heart was in serious
trouble. Now she wasn't so certain she knew how to protect herself.

“That's absolutely true. I only want to make certain you'll be happy.”

Meg smiled. “You know me, I'm always happy. I can make do with any situation. That's who I am.” That had always been true about her. Even when she'd mourned as a child, she wouldn't allow herself to be too sad for too long. She was always afraid of those darker feelings, always afraid they would pull her under and she wouldn't be able to survive.

“Gareth better endeavor to make you happy, else he'll have me to answer to,” Charlotte said.

“I thought you'd be disappointed in me.”

“For what?” Charlotte actually looked shocked. “For doing the responsible thing? Meg, the fact that I remain unmarried might seem courageous to some, but so often it feels like such a folly. I believe, in my heart of hearts, that he's out there waiting for me, but what if I'm wrong?” She shook her head. “No, you had the courage to recognize a decent man when you found one and you did the right thing for yourself and for your family. I respect that.”

“Thank you. I certainly hope you're right and that this was the right decision, because at the moment, I'm not that positive.”