Free Allison Lane by A Bird in Hand Page B

toe.  “If you are a gentleman, sirrah, then I will gladly die a spinster, for I will never place myself under the thumb of so odious a creature.  Nor will I wed.  Anyone.  Nothing you do will change my mind.”
    Fosdale’s hand twitched as if he longed to slap her.  “You will wed this man, or I will see your name buried so deep in mire that you will never hold your head up again.”
    She laughed.  “Think you that such threats will sway me?  I care nothing for Society.  The opinions of strangers count less than the bleating of your sheep.  Tell everyone you know.  If they cut me, it is no loss.  But if anyone asks me, I will gladly describe your greedy scheming.  Only a fortnight ago, you were plotting to force me onto Symington.”
    “What?”
    “Don’t try to deny it, for I overheard you.  Why do you think I rushed to Constance’s sickbed?  I will not see any gentleman destroyed to feed your greed.”
    Randolph frowned, staying out of their argument.  If even half of her claims were true, Fosdale was worse than the London matchmakers.
    But she was different, which was good, for honor demanded that he wed her.  He had felt an obligation even before learning her identity.  Discovering that she was the daughter of an earl sealed his fate.  But beyond that, she intrigued him.  He had never met so outspoken a female, or one who cared about how her actions affected others.
    Or did she? 
    He unobtrusively backed away from the combatants.  His appearance marked him as an insignificant nobody, but she did know that he was with Symington.  Was she refusing him because she planned to trap a duke’s heir?  Her protests might mask her real intentions.  And her charges against Fosdale – to which he had not admitted – could be an attempt to blame her father when she succeeded.
    He had no way of discerning the truth at the moment.  But every instinct he possessed demanded that he hide his identity until he had time to think this through.
    “Enough,” she snapped, pulling him back to the argument.  He had missed several exchanges.  “I am of age and able to choose my own future.  Be forewarned.  I will run away rather than wed.”  Breaking from Fosdale’s grasp, she stalked upstairs.
    “Who are you, sir?” demanded Fosdale, whirling to face Randolph.
    “Edward Randolph, my lord.”
    “You sound like a gentleman.”
    He nodded.
    “I expect you to do your duty, sir.  My daughter is headstrong and needs a firm hand, but you will manage her.”
    “I will do as honor demands,” he said carefully.  “But no harm has come to her, and I have no wish to wed a termagant.  If you insist on a match, I will take her, but only if you refrain from raising the subject again, so that I might talk her around.”
    “You think to charm the lady?”  He laughed.  “Elizabeth does not charm easily.”
    “Then I shall accept her refusal and leave.”  He made his voice as cold as possible.
    Fosdale blanched.  “Forgive me, sir.  Shock has loosened my tongue.  I am sure you will talk her round in no time at all.”
    Odious bastard!   But he held his fury in check.  “She will see that her future will be grim indeed if she does not accept the inevitable,” he said quietly.  “But honor has already been satisfied by offer and response, so if you bring the slightest pressure to bear on her, then her refusal stands.  Have I your word?”
    “Agreed.”  He had paled even further.  Confusion filled his eyes, as if he had run into an unexpected wall.  “We must discuss the marriage contract.”
    “Later.  I have more pressing business just now.  How fares Lord Symington?”
    “Randolph,” he repeated with new recognition.  “That was what he was mumbling last night.  We thought he meant his coachman.”
    “The coachman’s name is John.  May I see his lordship?”
    “Of course.  Wendell will direct you.  And he will find you a bed.  Staying here will allow you to deal with