Free Secrets of the Heart by Candace Camp

looking at her father pleadingly. “I did not think! I was—it was just—” She covered her face with her hands, unable to go on.
    â€œIt’s obvious that you did not think,” her father retorted disgustedly. “Dragging both our names through the dirt just so you could have your pleasure with this boy! There is no way we can keep this quiet. The house is full of wedding guests. The entire Ton will know that you left Westhampton standing at the altar.”
    Rachel’s hand dropped from her face, and she stared at her father with rising horror. It was obvious that until this moment she had not considered the consequences her actions would have for Michael. “No, I did not mean—”
    â€œYou have made him look a proper fool,” Ravenscar thundered on, disregarding her comment. “You have dishonored an excellent man, broken your trust—”
    â€œEnough!” Michael exclaimed, striding forward. “That is enough, my lord. She will not be ruined, and I will not be dishonored. Because no one will know of this.”
    â€œWhat?” Everyone else in the room turned to look at Michael in astonishment. Ravenscar frowned. “What are you talking about? We cannot keep this hidden.”
    â€œYes, we can. No one will know that Miss Aincourt jilted me if we are married two days hence, as planned.”
    Ravenscar stared at him. “You would still be willing to marry her? After this?”
    Michael carefully refrained from looking at Rachel. “If Miss Aincourt agrees to it. It is the only way to keep it a secret. I am sure Mr. Birkshaw, if he loves Miss Aincourt as he says he does, will ride away and never speak of this.” Michael cast a long, intent look at the other man.
    Birkshaw’s gaze dropped, and he nodded.
    â€œMy servants will never breathe a word,” Michael went on. “They are loyal to me. I think we can count on you and Lady Ravenscar not to reveal it.”
    â€œI should think not!” Ravenscar exclaimed.
    â€œThen the only way it would be revealed is if I repudiate our marriage contract. If we return to the house quietly, and Miss Aincourt and I are married day after tomorrow, no one will be the wiser.”
    There was a long moment of silence. Michael turned to Rachel. She was wiping tears from her cheeks, her face averted. “Well, Miss Aincourt? Are you willing to wed me Friday?”
    â€œOf course she is,” Lord Ravenscar inserted quickly. “She should count herself a fortunate woman that you would even consider allying yourself with her after this.”
    â€œNo. Let the lady speak for herself,” Michael said firmly, his eyes still fastened on Rachel. “Obviously she accepted me unwillingly before. I do not want that to happen again. It is entirely your decision, Miss Aincourt.”
    Rachel raised her eyes, still damp with tears, to his. “Yes,” she said in a low voice. “I will marry you Friday. I am so sorry. My behavior has been inexcusable. I—thank you for your generosity.”
    Michael nodded once, gravely. He had spoken up because he could not bear to hear Rachel’s father harangue her any longer; the thought of her having to return to live with the man, forever the object of his anger and scorn, filled him with disgust. This was the only way, he knew, for Rachel to survive this episode with her reputation intact. But he was also aware, with a touch of self-disdain, that his motives had been largely selfish. He had made his offer because he could not bear to let her go. He had to bind her to him, even knowing that she loved another.
    Birkshaw let out an inarticulate sound of frustration and pain and, turning on his heel, left the room. Rachel cast an anguished glance after him but did not move to stop him. Shortly after, the three of them left the inn and rode silently back to Westhampton, Rachel riding on her father’s horse behind him. On Friday, as scheduled,