Page 37 of A Rogues & Gentlemen Christmas

Chapter 2

“Wherein misunderstandings and a hasty marriage.”

7th December 1820. London.

Ludo had found the library with no trouble. It was well away from the ballroom, and an excellent location for a tryst. Now all he had to do was twiddle his thumbs until ten. Ridiculously, his palms were sweating, and his heart thudded in his chest. He was acting like a bloody schoolboy. But why? Why did Bunty want to meet him like this? If it was Bunty, murmured the voice of reason. He silenced it, wanting too badly to believe it was her and no one else. Likely it was the only way she thought they could meet. She must know as well as he did that no one would ever introduce him to her, and that smile, that sweet smile she had given him, surely a smile like that was a sign of encouragement? Wasn’t it?

Finally, it was time. Ludo walked out of the ballroom, checking surreptitiously that he was not observed as he made his way to the library. He almost passed one of the Ratched sisters on the way. She was red-faced and looked furious, but did not see him, thank heavens. He lingered in a shadowed alcove as she rushed past. Ludo waited a moment longer, until he was certain no one was around, and then hurried on to the library, where he hesitated outside the door. Please. He sent up the prayer to a God he had largely ignored, and who had no reason to do him any favours, yet he opened the door and… there she was.

She swung around, her eyes growing wide as she stared at him.

The poor girl looked terrified. Likely she was having second thoughts about this mad scheme now. He could hardly blame her.

“Miss Bunting,” he said, smiling and doing his best to look harmless. He closed the door behind him and moved into the room, noting that she moved the exact same distance away from him. “There’s no need to be alarmed. I… I won’t take advantage of the situation, you have my word. Only… I cannot pretend I wasn’t surprised. Extremely pleased, but… surprised.”

“S-Surprised?” she stammered, the word squeaked rather than spoken.

“By your note,” he said gently. “The one that asked me to meet you here.”

She gasped and grabbed hold of the chair she was standing beside, looking as if she might faint. “Oh, good heavens.”

Ludo rushed towards her and slid his arm about her waist before she collapsed.

“What are you doing?” she asked, looking more astonished than alarmed.

“I was afraid you might swoon.”

“I never swoon,” she retorted indignantly, and then panic filled her eyes. “Oh, oh no. Oh, Lord Courtenay, you must leave—”

Before another word could be spoken, the door burst open and the Ratched sisters appeared, with what appeared to be half of the guests in tow.

“Oh, Miss Bunting!” Sylvia shrieked dramatically. “Oh, and with… with him of all men!”

Ludo jolted. Good God. It was a trap. Felicity Bunting had trapped him into marrying her! He waited for the anger to hit him, the outrage and fury at being so manoeuvred.

It never came.

All he could think was… she wants me. Not for just a night. Not just for a bit of bed sport. She wanted to marry him. Why, he had no idea. God knew he was no catch. He had no fortune, no prospects, so that could only mean one thing.

She wanted him.

His breath caught and he almost laughed as he turned back to look at her, wanting to tell her yes, yes, he would marry her happily. Yet she did not look the least bit triumphant about her victory. She looked pale and horrified.

“I’m so terribly sorry. It was supposed to be Tommy,” she whispered, obviously mortified. “Not you.”

Ludo knew this was undoubtedly the most miserable night of his entire life and, bearing in mind the quality of options on offer, that was saying something. He’d reached a new low, and no mistake. Not only had Miss Bunting not intended to trap him into marriage, but she would ruin herself rather than marry him at all.

Well, he’d damn well see about that.

Her parents had ushered her away from the party, and from him, before he could speak two words to them, but he lost no time in discovering their address and following them home. He would marry Felicity Bunting if it was the last thing he did. She had just ruined herself in front of the entire ton. She’d never get another offer. Like it or not, he was her best chance. Admittedly, that wasn’t saying much, but it was the truth. He would give her the protection of his name and perhaps… perhaps in time….

He swallowed down the hope that rose in his chest and told himself not to be so bloody pitiful. Look where hope had gotten him this evening. He’d be a fool to expect anything good to come of this, except it already seemed he was a damned fool… for he wanted her too badly to let anything stand in his way.

Now, standing before her father in their front parlour, with Miss Bunting and her mother watching with frightened eyes from the other side of the room, he felt every bit the dastardly monster the ton had painted him. Not that he hadn’t encouraged the rumours, but it was too late to lament.

He studied her as her father explained they would marry the day after tomorrow. She looked to be on the verge of tears and, despite everything, Ludo’s heart went out to her. God alone knew what kind of man she believed him to be. She would have read the gossip sheets like everyone else; she would know of all his years of wickedness and vice. No doubt she thought she was marrying a vile fiend who would make her life a misery. Perhaps he was a vile fiend. He could not claim that all those stories had been untrue, for they each had some amount of truth in them, even if they’d been wildly exaggerated. Yet, he would try to be better. He would try to be a good man. Once Ludo had explained his situation, Miss Bunting’s father had made no bones about his displeasure, pointing out that his daughter was getting a bad bargain indeed, but Ludo had spent the last year clearing his debts and trying to get his finances in order. He was in no position to provide for a wife, but he would try. He would find a way to give her a home. A home. The idea called to some place deep inside him he had buried years ago. He had not known what it was to have a home. Not since his mother had died, at least.

Miss Bunting had a reasonable dowry, more than anything he might have expected to gain through marriage, considering his prospects, but the idea of living off her money made his stomach clench, and shame rose in him like a tide. He would be better than that.