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that she would be delighted to play the role of his fiancée?

      ‘A few months! I’d rather spend an eternity in hell than a day in your company.’

      Her hand flew to her mouth, horrified at her rude words.

      Something wholly unexpected crossed his face, but for such a fleeting moment, she was certain she had imagined it. Only slight amusement remained. ‘Indeed? In that case, I shall leave you to plan your move from Meryton.’

      He picked up his gloves and moved towards the door, then turned and bowed elaborately in her direction. ‘However, I will leave my offer open for a day or so. In case you change your mind. Good day, my lady.’

      ‘My lord, I am…’ Before she could frame an apology, he quitted the room.

      Mortified, she sank down on the sofa. Never had she said such an unkind thing to anyone. She tried to tell herself he richly deserved it, but she wasn’t so certain. For one brief moment, he had looked as if her words had affected him. But no, that was impossible. Not the imperturbable Marquis of Stamford.

      She put a hand to her head, which was beginning to ache in a familiar way. She could not possibly take him up on his preposterous suggestion, not even for James.

      She stood up and took an agitated turn around the room.

      But would a few months in his company really be such a high price to pay for Meryton? It was not as if he demanded she be his mistress. She had heard of men who were unscrupulous enough to ask for a woman’s favours to pay off a debt. Not that she thought Lord Stamford was above that if it suited him. Most likely she was not to his taste, thank goodness. The thought of spending a night in his arms filled her with shivery panic.

      She bit her lip, trying to think. What would they live on? John had left Rosalyn a small income and this house. The rest of his estate had been entailed to a nephew. Her competence could be stretched to accommodate two people in meagre comfort, but James would never accept that from her.

      What would become of him?

      She stared into the street with unseeing eyes. After all, how much time would she really be in his company? He was unlikely to spend much time dancing attendance on her. Such a flirt as Lord Stamford would undoubtedly find a woman more to his taste to occupy him.

      She had no choice. She only prayed his offer was still open.

      Michael entered Lady Burkham’s crowded ball room at half past midnight. Almost immediately, Lady Burkham glided forward, and caught his arm. ‘Why, Lord Stamford! We had given up all hope that you ever planned to show! I fear there has been more than one lady suffering from pangs of disappointment.’

      ‘I doubt the affliction is permanent.’

      Her smile faded a little at his cool tone. ‘No, now that you are here. We are about to go down to supper. I hope you will partake of it.’

      ‘Thank you. Your suppers are always superior.’

      She smiled again and, after a few more remarks, departed. He watched the guests drift towards the doors, talking and laughing. The boredom he felt at these occasions assailed him. He regretted his impulse to come.

      Except he’d felt equally bored at White’s.

      He finally admitted to himself he came in hopes of seeing Lady Jeffreys. Why, he had no idea. Until this morning, he had no doubt she would agree to his plan. But he had gravely miscalculated the depth of her dislike for him. Her words had stunned and then angered him. He tried to tell himself it was only because her refusal foiled his plans. He cared little what anyone thought or said of him. Including Lady Jeffreys. But a shaft of hurt he hadn’t felt since his youth had shot through him, piercing his careful armour of indifference.

      This was ridiculous. He decided he would make his excuses to his hostess and leave. Then he saw her.

      She was going down to supper with Lady Carlyn. Dressed in a dark blue gown that emphasised the gentle curve of her breasts, she looked delicately lovely.

      He would stay after all.

      He finally caught up to her at the supper laid out in buffet style. He waited until she finished putting a lobster patty on her plate before speaking.

      ‘Lady Jeffreys.’

      She whirled around and looked up at him as if he’d sprung out of the wall. ‘What are you doing here?’

      He removed the plate from her hand since the food appeared to be in danger of sliding to the table. ‘I was invited.’

      ‘I only meant I had not yet seen you. Did…did you get my note?’

      ‘Note? No, although I have hardly been home. Does this mean you wished to see me?’

      ‘Yes.’ Her face turned a delicate pink.

      ‘Perhaps you could continue your conversation elsewhere?’ Michael turned to find a stout gentlemen glaring at them.

      Rosalyn quickly moved forward, Michael behind her. ‘Do you wish some strawberries? They look quite good.’

      She looked completely confused. ‘Yes, I think so. This is for my grandmother.’

      He put some strawberries on the plate. ‘You are not eating?’

      ‘I am not hungry.’

      ‘So you hoped to see me? What has caused you to change your mind?’ he asked softly.

      She looked alarmed. ‘Please, not here.’

      ‘No.’ He looked down the plate, now containing enough food to feed several elderly ladies. ‘Is this enough for your grandmother?’

      She eyed the plate doubtfully. ‘I hope so.’

      ‘Where is Lady Carlyn?’

      He followed Rosalyn. Lady Carlyn sat at one of the long tables, between two older ladies. She beamed when she saw them. ‘Lord Stamford! How kind of you to fetch my plate! And you have found my granddaughter, I see. Perhaps you will join us.’

      Lady Carlyn’s voice carried. Rosalyn’s face coloured as several heads craned their way.

      ‘Actually, I had hoped to have a word with your granddaughter in private.’ He smiled at Lady Carlyn.

      ‘Why…why, I suppose so. Yes, but I trust you will be on your best behaviour!’

      ‘Of course.’ He took Rosalyn’s arm, leading her from the room before Lady Carlyn could make any more pronouncements to the rest of the guests.

      He led her to Lord Burkham’s study. He closed the door and leaned against it, watching her face.

      ‘What did your note say?’

      ‘I wished to accept your offer,’ she replied so softly he almost didn’t hear her. She twisted her hands. Her face had all the appearance of one offering to take another’s place on the gallows.

      ‘So you decided a few months of misery in my company was worth the price of your brother’s estate?’

      Guilt washed across her delicate face. ‘I didn’t exactly mean that. I am sorry I said…’

      He held up his hand. ‘There is no need to apologise. Your sentiments towards me are quite clear. At least you are honest. Very well, my lady, your brother shall have his estate.’

      She cast him a helpless, almost fearful look. ‘What do you wish me to do now, my lord? Are we to announce our…our agreement right away?’

      His mouth quirked slightly. ‘I see no reason to delay the announcement of our…betrothal. As soon as our families are informed, I will put an announcement in the Morning Post.’

      She looked almost horrified. ‘Is that necessary?’

      ‘It is quite necessary, my dear.’

      ‘But what will everyone say? It seems so sudden. We hardly

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