it would put an end to my father’s badgering.”
Humor lit her eyes before she shook her head, whether in disbelief or exasperation, Thorne couldn’t tell. “I always heard you were daring and reckless, my lord, but I think you must be a trifle mad. And I would have to be mad to accept.”
He adopted a lazy smile. “In some circles, you might be considered mad to refuse. Most single ladies of my acquaintance would jump at an offer of matrimony from me. Evidently I was right. You
are
very unique, Miss Sheridan.”
“Why? Because I have the good taste to prefer spinsterhood above allying myself with a rogue like you?”
“Now you wound my feelings.”
“I doubt that is possible,” she retorted lightly. She shook her head again. “So you wish me to pretend to be your betrothed?”
“Yes. It would only be a temporary arrangement, of course. Once Amy is safely settled, you may cry off. That is the usual etiquette—for the lady to withdraw from the betrothal. You simply have to announce that you and I don’t suit.”
“That would be no falsehood,” Diana muttered. “We wouldn’t suit in the slightest. It strains the imagination to think I would ever accept a proposal of marriage from you.”
Understanding her instinctive resistance, Thorne held up a hand. “Please, hear me out before you refuse.”
Skeptically, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Very well, I am willing to listen.”
“There are several advantages to both you and Amy. Not the least of which is the prestige of my family name. You intimated that your reputation is somewhat tarnished by your past elopement. I doubt I’m misjudging to suggest that a betrothal to me would make you more acceptable to society.”
He could tell by the flush on her cheeks that he had struck a sensitive nerve, but even so, Diana eyed him coolly. “I have lived comfortably with the tarnish for the past six years. Why should I care if you can add a little polish?”
“Because you could keep a closer eye on Amy during her Season. You told me you intend to remain in the background for her comeout, but if you are engaged to me—and have my aunt’s backing—you could both participate in social events and use your powers of persuasion to help Amy get over her infatuation. You are obviously a good influence on her, despite her current pique with you.”
That gave Diana pause, he could see. “There is also the matter of your own protection,” Thorne continued. “If we’re to be thrown together while working in Amy’s behalf, your reputation may only suffer further from your association with me. But our betrothal should stem much of the gossip and shield you from the worst suppositions.”
“Possibly,” she murmured, deep in thought.
“And in any case, I feel an obligation toward you. Amy is my ward. As I see it, your being her cousin makes me in some way responsible for you.”
A spark of defiance lit Diana’s dark eyes. “I assure you, it does
not
make you responsible, my lord. I don’t require your protection. And I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“I’ll warrant you are,” he said soothingly. “But you can’t deny the benefit to Amy.”
When she made no reply other than pressing her lips together, Thorne added his final argument. “I believe I could also help your chances of being accepted into the British Academy to train. I know several of the Academy’s patrons and can use my connections to your benefit. By the time our betrothal ends, you will likely have established yourself in the art world.”
He had expected her to be pleased by the offer, but unexpectedly, it seemed only to trouble her. Any hint of amusement left her expression. In fact, she actually grimaced.
“You realize that if I accept, I may be seen as a fortune-hunter myself. Society will assume that I trapped you into offering for me. Frankly, I can think of few things more odious than being accused of throwing myself at your head.”
“But we
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