how bacon-brained she’d been.
Emma snorted. “Because there was no other man.”
“Now see here—”
Meg put a hand out to stop Parks. She felt as if she’d been kicked in the stomach, but Parks’s intervention would not help matters. Emma’s face had its mulish expression.
“Emma, you know I would not lie to you.”
Emma simply glared in reply.
“Yes, my dear,” Charles said. “You are letting your anger—”
Emma turned to glare at him.
“—your understandable anger cloud your judgment.”
“Look at her, Charles.”
Charles—and everyone—looked at her.
Meg bit her lip. She knew she looked terribly shocking. And it was clear Emma wouldn’t rest until she had all the details. “Very well, it was Lord Bennington.”
“Bennington? That lump?” Lizzie blushed and covered her mouth. “Pardon me. That just slipped out.”
Lord Westbrooke grinned. “This will give old Bennie something else to hate you for, Parks.”
“I am well aware of it.”
Emma shook her head, clearly surprised. “I would not have expected such behavior from Viscount Bennington.”
“Neither would I,” Meg said. “You can be sure I would not have ventured outside with the man if I’d had the least inkling of it.”
“You should not be venturing outside with any gentlemen!”
“Emma, I am twenty-one. I am not a child any more.”
Charles put a hand on Emma’s shoulder. “Perhaps we should wait until a more private time to have our family squabbles?”
Emma scowled. “Very well.” She shot an expressive look at Meg. “We will continue this discussion in the carriage on our way home.”
Meg held her tongue. She had come with Lady Beatrice and she intended to leave with her, but there was no need to tell Emma that now. In fact, if she played her cards carefully, she should be able to avoid having Emma ring a peal over her altogether. She relaxed slightly. A mistake. She was only out of the frying pan and into the fire.
“However, I do wonder,” Charles said, looking at her, “how you happened to be sitting on Mr. Parker-Roth’s lap when we arrived.”
“Um.” No adequate answer presented itself.
“Excellent question, Charles. It’s not as though the gentleman’s lap was the only option. He might have stood to give you a place to sit.” Lady Beatrice ran her hand over the dull red upholstery of the settee. “And while I grant you this seat is unattractive, I am quite comfortable.”
“Well…”
“And why did you become separated from that shawl you are now clutching? It does not seem especially warm in here”—Charles focused on Parks, his voice becoming sharper—“unless perhaps you were engaged in some, ah, heat-producing activity?”
“I, um, well, you see…”
Parks cleared his throat. “I am happy to offer an explanation for Miss Peterson, my lord.”
“No.” She turned to search Parks’s face. His expression was pleasant, polite, and totally opaque. “We discussed this. You rescued me from Bennington. You should not be punished for a good deed. I said I would explain.”
Parks smiled slightly. “Would you care to explain what we were doing when my mother came in?”
Meg turned a bright shade of red. Her mouth opened and closed several times, but no words emerged.
“What were you doing, Parker-Roth?” The marquis’s voice was soft and unpleasant.
“Let us just say that, regardless of what happened in the garden, I believe it would be best if I wed Miss Peterson.”
“Did you harm my sister, you…you…”
Knightsdale put a restraining hand on his wife. “Have you harmed my sister-in-law, Parker-Roth?” His tone was even colder. Parks knew he was a dead man if he answered yes, but he was not going to truckle to the marquis. He turned to Meg.
“Did I harm you, Miss Peterson?”
“No, of course not. Don’t be absurd.” Meg turned to look at her sister and brother-in-law. “You are all making too much of this. There is no need for me to marry Mr. Parker-Roth. Let’s just pretend this evening did not happen.”
“Let’s just pretend Lady Dunlee is not the world’s biggest gossip,” Lady Beatrice said.
“Lady Beatrice—”
“You know she’s right, Meg.” Lady Westbrooke put her hand on Meg’s shoulder. “Lady Dunlee will spread the story in a trice.”
“No, she won’t, Lizzie.”
Westbrooke coughed. “Thing is, Meg, she already has. Two fellows mentioned it to me in the ballroom. Were surprised Parks was such a wild…” He coughed again. “Well, the truth is, the word is out—be all over Town by morning.”
“And all over England by next week.” The marchioness scowled at her sister. “You have no choice. You must marry Mr. Parker-Roth.”
Meg’s mouth was set in a straight line. She was beginning to look as mulish as her sister. “You are working yourself into a pother over nothing, Emma—as you always do.”
Lady Knightsdale drew in an audible breath. Parks was certain her husband would have to hold her back from Meg. Surely this argument wouldn’t degenerate into the hair-pulling sessions his youngest sisters too often engaged in? He glanced at his mother. She gave him an intense look.
It was definitely time to intervene.
“Perhaps it would help if Miss Peterson and I could have a few moments alone to discuss the situation, Lady Knightsdale?”
“There is nothing to discuss.” Meg almost spat the words. Was she going to take her venom out on him?
He was shocked to realize he found the thought rather stimulating. In fact, a specific part of him was especially stimulated.
“Exactly. The decision is made.” Lady Knightsdale turned her scowl on him. “And we’ve seen what happens when you two are alone together. Come, Meg. We are leaving.”
“We are not leaving. I came with Lady Beatrice. I will leave with her.”
“Meg—”
Knightsdale put his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “I believe we can give you a few moments, Parker-Roth.”
“But Charles—”
“You are understandably overset, Emma, but I think we can trust the man not to ravish Meg in the five or ten minutes we’ll allow them alone. We’ll wait right outside in the corridor in case Meg needs help, shall we?”
“Well…”
Mrs. Parker-Roth had obviously had enough. She was perfectly polite, but firm. “There is no need for concern, Lady Knightsdale. You can trust my son to behave as a gentleman. I did not raise a complete cad, you know.”
The marchioness’s brows snapped down and she opened her mouth as if to flay Parks’s mother with her tongue, but stopped in time. She blushed. “No, of course not.” Her tone was stiff. “I meant no insult, of course. As my husband says, I am slightly overset. Please excuse me.”
Mrs. Parker-Roth smiled. “That is quite all right. Indeed, I know exactly how you feel. I had a similar experience with my eldest daughter.”
“You