to fling his proposal of mar…No—Tallie Robinson, poor relation, did not merit a proposal, for he had not even waited for her reply. He’d presented his prospective brood mare with an assumption of marriage!
Well, whichever it was, she would fling it in his teeth! That would bring a shocked look to that insufferably complacent face. And how she would enjoy snapping her fingers under that long, proud nose! She would wait until he had finished describing the wonderful treats that marriage to him would bring her! What was he talking about now? The view of the lake from the summerhouse at sunset? Hah!
I’m sooo sorry, Lord d’Arenville, she would tell him, but even the delightful prospect of viewing the d’Arenville duck pond at dawn cannot tempt me to marry you. I would much prefer to remain unwed. Sooo sorry to disappoint you. And she would sail out of the room, head held high, leaving him stunned, furious, gnashing his teeth with chagrin.
No, she decided. Too tame, too straightforward. He deserved a taste of his own medicine. He hadn’t even bothered to speak to her! He’d merely informed Laetitia, no doubt offering to take a poor relation off her hands. Tallie had been scalded and abused and accused of outright immorality. And all because of his arrogance. He needed to be taken down a peg or two! Or three!
Tallie smiled to herself, planning her revenge—she’d keep him guessing. A man of his pride and consequence would loathe being kept waiting. Especially by a little nobody from nowhere! A sturdy little nobody at that!
Laetitia’s guests obviously knew of Lord d’Arenville’s choice. They would be waiting for the announcement. And Laetitia—what would it do to her pride to have the despised poor relation keeping the head of the family dangling?
The thought filled Tallie with glee—she would let them all wait…and wait…and wait. And they would marvel at her temerity in making her future husband wait, for of course it would never occur to any of them that she could be so foolish as to refuse such a prize!
A prize indeed, Tallie thought scornfully, glancing up at him from under her lashes. As if a handsome face and figure and a wealthy purse were everything!
Yes, she would make him, and everyone else, wait. And then, just when everyone was starting to wonder how much longer Lord d’Arenville’s temper would stand it, Tallie would carelessly decline his offer. That would serve him right! How his pride would suffer—the great Lord d’Arenville, prize of the marriage mart, courted and pursued by every matchmaking mama in the country, rejected by the plain and insignificant poor relation!
‘The banns would be called immediately and the wedding set for three weeks from now. Would that be enough time for you to organise your bride clothes?’ said Lord d’Arenville.
Tallie blinked up at him in mocking surprise. Was that a question he was asking? Something he didn’t know? An arrangement he hadn’t made? Something for her to comment on? Amazing.
She stood up. ‘Lord d’Arenville. I thank you for your very…surprising…offer of marriage. May I consider my reply?’ Without waiting for his response, Tallie hurried on, ‘Thank you. I will let you know my answer as soon as is convenient.’
Magnus’s jaw dropped.
She walked to the door, opened it, paused, turned back to face him and smiled sweetly. ‘Until then, may I suggest you make no irrevocable arrangements?’
Chapter Three
‘Well, what did he say? It was a hum, was it not?’ Laetitia dragged Tallie into a nearby anteroom.
‘No, I am afraid it was not,’ said Tallie reluctantly. ‘You were perfectly correct, Cousin, he thought to marry me.’
Laetitia caught the tense Tallie used and pounced eagerly. ‘But he has changed his mind?’
Tallie knew she had to choose her words carefully, so as not to exacerbate her cousin’s volatile temper any further. She was skating on very thin ice as it was. ‘No, not exactly.’
‘I knew it!’ Laetitia stamped her foot. ‘He is such a selfish wretch! How could he put me in such a position? Each girl out there was in daily expectation of being made an offer!’ She glared at Tallie. ‘Each one a diamond of the first water, an heiress or a duke’s relative—and he chooses you!’
Tallie nodded, ignoring the insult. She understood how foolish her cousin felt. She even felt some sympathy for her. Lord d’Arenville was an arrogant, selfish, thoughtless boor.
‘It is all right, Cousin,’ she said soothingly. ‘I intend to refuse him.’
Laetitia froze. She stared, stupefied. Her face went white beneath the rouge. ‘What did you say?’ she whispered.
‘I am going to refuse him.’ Tallie smiled reassuringly.
‘Refuse Magnus?’
Tallie nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘You—to refuse my cousin Magnus? Lord d’Arenville?’
Tallie nodded again. ‘Absolutely. I have no wish to marry him, so there is nothing for you to be upset—’
‘Of all the brazen effrontery! You arrogant little bitch!’
Tallie took a step backwards, unnerved by the fury she saw in her cousin’s face.
‘Who do you think you are to refuse my cousin Magnus? You—a complete nonentity! A mere Robinson! Why, he is so far above the likes of you that he is the sun to your, your…’ Laetitia waved her hand in frustration, unable to find a suitable comparison to convey to Tallie just how far beneath him she was. ‘How dare you think to humiliate me in this fashion?’
‘But, Cousin, how does my refusing Lord d’Arenville humiliate you?’ interrupted Tallie, confused by her cousin’s abrupt volte-face. ‘I can see how choosing me instead of your—’
‘Do not for one minute dare to gloat, you insolent hussy!’
‘I am not gloating,’ said Tallie indignantly. ‘But I don’t understand. Surely if I refuse him it saves you the embarrassment of people knowing he preferred me to your friends? We can say that your guests misunderstood.’
Laetitia threw up her hands. ‘She even has the brass to boast of her conquest!’ she muttered. ‘Mortifying enough that my cousin chooses a shabby little nobody over my friends, but for the nobody to refuse him! No. No! It is too much!’
She turned to face Tallie, hands on hips. ‘Little did I think when I accepted you into my household that it would come to this. You will pack your bags and be out of here within the hour. John Coachman will take you back to the village where you lived before you insinuated yourself into my home.’ Laetitia’s voice was low, furious and vengeful, her expression implacable.
Tallie stared at her, shocked. There was no hysteria in her cousin’s manner now. ‘You…you cannot mean it, surely, Cousin?’
Laetitia sniffed and turned her face away.
Tallie tried again. ‘Please, Cousin, reconsider. There is nothing for me in the village. The school closed down when Miss Fisher died. And…you know I have no money.’
‘You should have considered that before you set your cap at my cousin.’
‘I did not set my cap at him. I never even spoke to him! It was Lord d’Arenville who—’
‘I am not interested in your excuses. You have one hour.’ Laetitia was adamant.
Tallie’s mouth was dry. ‘You cannot mean it, surely, Cousin?’ she began. ‘I have nowhere to go, no one to turn to.’
‘And whose fault is that, pray? Had I known before what an ungrateful, scheming jade you were, I would never have taken you into my home. The subject is closed. One hour.’ Laetitia swept towards the door.
‘Cousin!’ called Tallie. Laetitia paused and glanced disdainfully back. Tallie