Free An Imperfect Proposal by Hayley Ann Solomon

with delicate colors that were gilded at the edges. It had been one of Stephen’s presents: an expensive knickknack that now narrowly missed his head.
    Stephen said nothing. He took up his jacket and cane and let himself quietly out the door. The next day, Lady Luttlow received a bracelet of diamonds from Rundell and Bridge. Though it sparkled deliciously upon her wrist, it afforded her no satisfaction at all. The Earl of Davenport was notoriously generous with his farewells. The bracelet—particularly its price—spoke not of conciliation, but of endings. Lady Luttlow slammed the door in the face of Mr. Gregory Dacks. She was so consumed with fury, she could hardly speak.
    Â 
    Â 
    The only good thing about London was the rain. It matched Stephen’s mood as he waved away his carriage and trudged the fashionable streets of Mayfair on foot. The fact that he was making a spectacle of himself seemed to have eluded him, for he was lost in a series of unpleasant thoughts and had the devil of a headache besides.
    This, not unnaturally, was the result of several nights of fitful sleep and three decanters of smuggled port bought at a premium. None of these decoctions seemed to have helped in the slightest, hence the earl’s desperate attempt to take the air. When his butler confronted him with a salver full of invitations, he waved him away testily, announcing that whilst the countess was not in residence, there was no reason for him to attend any functions whatsoever.
    Naturally, such a strange start could not go unnoticed, especially as the butler’s niece was a particular friend of the second under maid to Lady Charing, who was the greatest gossipmonger in all of England. Stephen found he could not go to so much as his tailor’s without being quizzed most damnably, and as for his greatest friend, Lord Diggory, he was the worst of the lot.
    So smitten with mirth was he that he soon found himself sporting a bloody nose, a fact that had Stephen shaken out of his daze of moroseness and apologizing profusely.
    â€œThink nothing of it, Stephen! I’ve suffered worse than a bloody nose before, I assure you! Only . . . if your wife causes you to behave in such a manner, your feelings for her must be deeper than you would have the world think.”
    â€œWhat if they are?” Stephen’s tone was still fierce, despite his shock at his behavior. “Here, have my handkerchief—there is blood all over your lip.”
    â€œThanks. Precisely. What if they are? Is it really so terrible, Stephen, to be in love with your wife? She is a pretty little thing, if I recall, and she looked ravishing at your wedding.”
    â€œYes, I distinctly recall your ogling.”
    â€œThen I am lucky to be alive, never mind sporting a bloody nose! She is fetching, Stephen, and now that she is out of her shell, she is lovelier yet.”
    â€œAnd how would you know?”
    â€œI don’t. Not personally, so you can take that growl out of your tone, but Hugh Finlay-Orb thinks she is perfection itself and . . .”
    â€œHugh? What has he to say to it?”
    â€œHe is only your nearest neighbor, Stephen! It is natural they should meet! What is more, if her ladyship’s eye for horseflesh is as unerring as Hugh thinks it is . . .”
    â€œThat’s it! Confound it, I am going back to Devonport! Hugh Finlay-Orb indeed, jumped-up old popinjay!”
    Lord Diggory laughed. “He is actually a pleasant chap . . .”
    â€œPleasant! He is a meddlesome, troublesome old geezer . . .”
    â€œ. . . Who you would like to pummel the living daylights out of! Stephen, go and mend things with your wife. I don’t think society can bear much more of your tetchiness.”
    â€œThere is nothing wrong between me and my wife!”
    â€œThere is everything wrong, Stephen! You love her and you are too much of a gapseed to tell her so!”
    â€œI’ve loved a hundred times before! It