Page 50 of A Holiday By Gaslight

“It’s not the proposal I object to, man. It’s the way you went about it. Have you no sense of the manner in which these things are done? You should have come to me first. There are contracts to hammer out. Settlements and the like.”

“Mr. Murray doesn’t view me in those terms, Papa.” Emily moved closer to her still-blushing beau. “I’m not a boring old business arrangement.”

Ned stole a glance at Sophie. Her expression was shuttered, her arms folded tightly at her waist.

Is that what she thought? That she was a business arrangement to him? Nothing more than a dry negotiation of contracts and settlements? Granted, when he’d wished to court her, he’d gone to her father first. He’d done everything exactly as the Gentleman’s Book of Etiquette advised. Pursuing Sophia Appersett had been the most important decision of his life. He hadn’t wanted to put a foot out of line.

Only now did he realize that, in his zeal to do everything right, he might have inadvertently done everything wrong.

He’d wanted so badly to win her. To show himself a gentleman equal to those of her rank and breeding. As a result, there had been no romance in his pursuit. No impetuousness.

Unlike Walter Murray’s pursuit of her sister. An unsanctioned courtship filled with teasing and flirting and God knows what else.

“I wouldn’t like it if he’d asked you first,” Emily went on. “As if he didn’t care for me at all and only cared for my dowry.”

Walter glanced down at her with an expression of affectionate indulgence. “Your father’s right. I should have asked him for your hand before I approached you.” He looked at Sir William and Lady Appersett in turn. “I apologize for my impulsiveness, but I love your daughter. And I believe she loves me as well.”

Emily beamed. “Mr. Murray is going to take me on an Italian holiday for our honeymoon.”

Sophie’s face was white. “Emmy, that’s all very well, but…”

“I know you think I want a title, Sophie. I thought so too. But I’d far rather marry for love. One of us may as well. And you must agree—”

“That isn’t it,” Sophie said. “That isn’t it at all. Tell her, Papa.”

Sir William paled. “Sophia…this is neither the time, nor the place—”

“Your father has spent your dowry, my love,” Lady Appersett said. “There is naught but one hundred pounds left of it.”

What the devil?

Ned was sure his jaw dropped. He took in the expressions of everyone in the room in one swift, comprehensive glance. Sophie and her father were bloodless and still. Lady Appersett appeared resigned. Emily’s face was reddening with something like outrage. And Walter…

Walter had the temerity to laugh, blast him.

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” he said. “Not that it matters one jot. I’d take Emily in her underclothes, even without your blessing.”

Lady Appersett’s lips twitched. “Mr. Murray,” she chastised with a small shake of her head. “The things you say.”

Walter grinned. “Naturally, I’d rather have your blessing. If you’ll give it to us.”

Sir William nodded very slowly. “There are benefits to having a mason’s son in the family. I can see that now. You understand the estate better than some.” He flashed a narrow look at Ned. “But this is all highly irregular. There are settlements to consider and—”

“And I will be at your disposal tomorrow for however long it takes to sort them,” Walter said. “As I’ve told your daughter, you’ll not find me tight-fisted.”

Some of the color returned to Sir William’s face. “Then this is a cause for celebration. My dear? Call for some champagne.”

Lady Appersett stood and went to the bell pull that hung beside the fireplace. A footman responded to the summons almost instantly and, after a few words with Lady Appersett, left just as swiftly.

“Shall we make an announcement?” Walter asked.

“As to that…” Sir William tugged at his cravat. “Let’s not be too hasty. We’ll keep the news in the family for now. I’ll determine the best way to announce it at a more appropriate time.”

Ned exchanged a brief look with Walter. They both knew full well that a baronet’s daughter wedding a tradesman was no cause for public rejoicing. Once married, Emily would be ostracized from the society to which she’d been born. There would be no more invitations to fashionable soirees, nor hobnobbing with earls and viscounts. She’d be the wife of a wealthy man, true. But hers would be a very different sort of life than the one she’d had thus far.

“I can’t believe you spent my dowry,” Emily said to her father. “You promised you wouldn’t touch it.”

Sir William waved her away. “Your betrothed will understand when he sees the improvements I’ve made. And I have greater plans still. It will make the gaslight pale in comparison.”