The Viscount's Veiled Lady (Whitby Weddings 3)

‘I surmised, correctly as it turned out, that your father had been listening to some of the more bizarre rumours about me. I simply had to convince him that I was still a gentleman.’

‘Is that why you’re dressed like that?’

‘Is it so obvious?’ He laughed, tugging at his shirt collar with his spare hand. ‘I managed to get the pig smell out eventually, or at least I hope I did. My sister-in-law said I looked rather dashing. Or don’t you agree?’

‘I didn’t say that.’ She felt her cheeks blossom with colour. ‘It might just take some getting used to, that’s all.’

‘As might your new coat and bonnet. Both of which look very pretty on you, by the way.’

‘You don’t have to say that.’ She glanced up suspiciously. ‘I know I must look a fright. I hardly slept a wink last night.’

‘Ah. Then I suppose I can hazard a guess as to the reason.’

He turned his head towards her and she averted her gaze quickly, looking down at the glistening water of the harbour below, at the cobblestoned streets and red-roofed houses, as if the words she was searching for might appear in thin air. They were walking along the promenade already, past the whale-bone arch erected almost twenty years before to commemorate the whaling crews that had set out from, but never returned to, Whitby.

‘Arthur, when I burst in on you all yesterday...’

‘With your permission, I’ll obtain a special licence tomorrow.’ He stopped walking abruptly. ‘It’s not entirely appropriate, given that your sister’s still in mourning, but your father agrees it might be best.’

‘Tomorrow?’ She gasped, feeling slightly winded, as if all the air had just left her body.

‘Yes. For some reason I have a prejudice against long engagements.’ His lips curved upwards. ‘I also think it would be best to marry before Violet has her baby. I’d like for Lance to be my best man and I doubt I’ll be able to prise him away afterwards.’

‘Oh, yes, I see that, but...’ She folded her hands in front of her as if that might help her get her thoughts into some kind of order. ‘Arthur,’ she said again, ‘you don’t have to go through with this. When I barged in yesterday I was only trying to help. I’d worked out what Lydia was planning to do, but by the time I arrived, it was too late to warn you. So I climbed in through the dining-room window and made it look as though I’d been there all along. I wasn’t trying to trap you, I promise.’

‘I know.’

‘You do?’ She knitted her brows in confusion. He was smiling that enigmatic smile again, the one that had baffled her so much the day before.

‘Of course. In fact, I can honestly say that suspicion never crossed my mind.’

‘So you guessed what I was doing?’

‘Not at first. It only occurred to me later, but the truth is that I didn’t care why you did it. I’m only glad you did.’

‘So you’re not angry?’

‘Not in the slightest. There was really only one thing that bothered me.’

‘What’s that?’ She tensed again immediately.

‘Just that it wasn’t much of a proposal, what with your father and sister and what’s-her-name standing there?’

‘Amelia Kitt?’

‘That’s the one. So...’ He dropped down on one knee in front of her.

‘What are you doing?’ She gawped at him, as shocked as if he’d just started undressing in front of her.

‘I’d have thought it was obvious.’ He glanced pointedly downwards.

‘But you don’t have to! That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I wasn’t trying to trap you!’

‘I believe we’ve covered that and, for the record, I don’t feel trapped. Not with you. When I thought I might have to propose to your sister, on the other hand...’

‘You were going to propose to Lydia?’ Her heart plummeted. ‘Is that what you wanted?’

He gave her a look that was part-irritation, part-amusement. ‘That seems a strange question when I’m down on one knee.’