Free Accidental Fiancee by Mary Moore Page B

She did not stop to think before she spoke. “My lord, that is not necessary. Please, do not feel obliged to pass your family heirlooms to me.”
    She realized from the thundercloud in his eyes and the gasp from his sisters that she had made a major faux pax. “Love,” Lord Weston said, practically growling the word, “they are now
your
jewels, as my betrothed. Their major purpose is not to keep the gossipmongers in tow. I
want
you to have your betrothal ring.”
    Surprisingly, it was Lydia who recognized the possibility of another heated exchange between the two, and in her bravest voice yet, she said, “Perhaps Grace and Lord Weston would like a few minutes alone. Aunt Aggie, could we not show Lord Weston’s sisters the rest of the house?”
    The four women rose to leave the room. As Maggie walked past her brother, she whispered, “Behave yourself, Brandon.” She followed the others, asking if they might not use their Christian names, as they were all to be family. The door closed behind them.
    “Determined to botch this, my dear?” he drawled, finally letting Grace’s hand go free.
    She sat on the sofa and dropped her head in her hands. “I knew I would not be able to do this.”
    He came to her, knelt in front of her and raised her face to his. “I am sorry, love. Do not cry. Just think before you blurt out your feelings. I have complete trust in you. We shall come about, I promise.”
    “You do not understand,” Grace moaned. “Even if I believed we were truly betrothed, I would have hesitated at taking your family’s jewels. I still would have felt awkward discussing heirlooms as if they meant nothing to you to give them away.”
    “Zounds! We are in the suds. You must be the most
un
avaricious female alive!” He stood up and pulled her with him. “That may be the way I can explain it to my sisters when we leave. You quite adoringly thought I would feel sorrow at having family heirlooms passed on. They both know better, but they might think you do not.”
    He was not finished with her. “We are not safe yet. I am afraid your hesitation to accept my betrothal ring will cause other serious questions in the minds of my sisters. Maybe not Maggie, but in Elizabeth’s, most definitely. I am afraid this calls for one of those drastic measures we discussed back at the inn.”
    She looked at him questioningly. What was he up to now? “I do not understand you, my lord. What drastic measures?”
    “First,
Grace,
no one is going to believe we have fallen in love if you do not stop ‘my lord’ing me at every turn. You must call me Weston at the very least. Even if you pretend embarrassment at odd moments, as you are starting the habit of calling me that, it will be easier to convince others. Next, when those women return to this room, they will need to see some kind of physical indication that our whirlwind romance is real.”
    She looked at him skeptically. “What kind of physical indication are you referring to,
Weston?
” She said the last quite sarcastically.
    “I think you know, love, but if you want me to say it, I will. They will need to see the embrace the Marchmonts have been claiming that
they
encountered.”
    “The Marchmonts did not see us embracing.”
    “No, they did not, but that is their tale.” He smiled at her impishly. She wished those dimples were not so distracting. “Let me see, how shall we best set the scene? You are overwrought, thinking you made me believe you did not want my betrothal ring. I think holding you in my arms would seem comforting, would it not?”
    “You are teasing me!” she exclaimed in horror. “You wretched man! You are
trying
to drive me mad. Oh, I could box your ears for scaring me so.”
    He pulled her into the window embrasure. “I
was
teasing a bit, only because your eyes change so amazingly when you are angry with me. But what I said is true. Lydia saw you were upset, and we must take advantage of that. If my sister Maggie hears one disparaging