in gold—or a few extra sheep. He’d probably prefer that. Give that a try!”
“Gwyneira, you need to take this seriously!” her father exhorted her. “Do you really think I haven’t already tried to talk the man out of it?”
“Oh?” Gwyneira asked, curious. “How much did you offer?”
Lord Terence ground his teeth. It was a nasty habit, he knew, but Gwyneira always drove him to desperation.
“Of course I didn’t offer him anything. I appealed to his reason and sense of honor. However, these qualities don’t seem to hold much weight for him.” Terence turned away, visibly ashamed.
“So you don’t have any scruples about marrying me off to a sharper’s son?” Gwyneira concluded with amusement. “But in all seriousness, Father, what do you think I should do? Refuse the proposal? Or accept it reluctantly? Should I act dignified or dejected? Cry or wail? Maybe I could run away. That would be the most honorable solution. If I disappeared into the night, you’d be free of the whole affair!” Gwyneira’s eyes flashed at the thought of such an adventure. However, rather than running away, she’d prefer to be kidnapped…
He balled his hands into fists. “Gwyneira, I don’t know either. Of course, it would be embarrassing for me if you refused. But it would be just as embarrassing to me if you felt bound to it. And I would never forgive myself if you were unhappy over there. That’s why I’m asking you…well, perhaps you could hear the proposal, how should I put this…graciously?”
Gwyneira shrugged. “Very well. Then let’s hear it. But for that I must go fetch my prospective father-in-law, don’t you think? And Mother as well, I suppose…then again, no, her nerves couldn’t handle it. We’ll tell Mother after the fact. So, where is Mr. Warden?”
Gerald Warden had been waiting in the next room. He found the events playing out that day in the Silkham house quite entertaining. Gwyneira’s sisters had called for the smelling salts six times already; they had also complained alternately of nervous agitation and weakness. The maids had hardly had a moment’s rest. For the moment, Lady Silkham was resting in the salon with a bag of ice to her forehead while Diana implored her husband to effect Gwyneira’s rescue somehow, even if it meant challenging Warden to a duel. Understandably, the colonel demonstrated little inclination to do any such thing. He merely punished the New Zealander with his contempt and seemed to wish with all his heart for nothing more than to leave his in-laws’ house as quickly as possible.
Gwyneira appeared to be taking the whole thing in stride. The lord had refused to call Gerald in immediately to converse with her, but it would have been hard not to hear such a spirited girl having a temper tantrum, even from the next room. Afterward, when Warden was called into the study, he found that Gwyneira was not crying, butrather, that her cheeks were glowing. He’d been hoping for just such a reaction; his proposal had no doubt come as a surprise to Gwyneira, but she did not appear to be averse to it. She turned her enchanting blue eyes intently upon the man who had just won her hand in such an unusual way.
“Is there perhaps a picture or something?” Gwyneira did not bother with small talk but came straight to the point. Warden found her just as charming as she had been the day before. Her simple blue skirt highlighted her slim figure, and her quilled blouse made her look more mature, though she had not bothered pinning up her luscious red mane this time. Her maids had merely tied two strands together behind her head with a blue velvet ribbon to keep her hair out of her face. Otherwise, it fell curly and free far down Gwyneira’s back.
“A picture?” Gerald Warden asked, taken aback. “Well…floor plans…I have a sketch of the house somewhere around here because I wanted to discuss it with an English architect first…”
Gwyneira burst out laughing. She did