“I’ll never regret it.” He paused, taking her other hand. “I love you, Charlotte Valinsky. So, are you going to marry me, or not?”
There it went, the last shred of her control. Tears welled up, and to her mortification, she started to cry.
Denys’s brows drew together in a little frown of doubt. “Was that a yes?” he asked. “I’m not quite sure—”
“Yes!” she sobbed. “Yes. I’ll marry you, Denys. I’ll marry you.”
“Finally,” he said with relief, and rose. “You made me wait long enough, Lola, really.”
“This cannot stand,” the earl said. “I’ll disinherit you. You’ll no longer be involved in any investments of our family. You won’t have a farthing to support this woman.”
“But I will, Father.” His fingers entwined with hers as he turned to look at his father. “I have the brewery with Nick, and I have Arcady. You’ve no stake in either of those. They are solely mine. Oh, yes, and the Imperial, of course.”
“I sold my share of the Imperial to Lord Barringer yesterday.”
“So you did. But Barringer sold his share to me this afternoon.”
“To you?”
“Yes. I made the purchase out of my private funds. For his part, Barringer was quite pleased to make a profit of two thousand pounds and walk away, especially when I told him Lola would never sell him her share, no matter how much he offered. I hope you don’t mind that I spoke for you, darling,” he added to her, “but I decided to take the chance that as partners go, you’d prefer me to Barringer.”
“I don’t mind,” she murmured. “So we’ll still manage it together?”
“Of course.” He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her glove. “We’re partners, remember?”
Conyers muttered an oath. “You are determined to do this, then?” he asked.
“I am, Father.”
“I cannot talk you out of it?”
“No.”
The earl turned to her, his eyes raking over her. “And you, young woman, have no intention of making him see sense?”
“No, my lord,” she answered, and felt Denys squeeze her hand tight.
“I give it up,” the earl muttered, lifting his hands in a gesture of exasperated defeat. “Do as you will, both of you, and on your heads be it.”
“Do you accept us, then, Father?” Denys asked, as his father turned away. “Will you give us your blessing?”
“Blessing?” The earl stopped. Squaring his shoulders, he turned and looked at them.
“No,” he said. “I cannot do so, for I see no blessing in this union. But—” he added, and Lola caught her breath. “I know when I’ve lost. And if I don’t accept this woman, society never will, and if that happens, heaven only knows what the fate of your children will be. Your sons might not be admitted to Oxford.” He shuddered as if that was a fate worse than death. “Your daughters might have to marry commoners.”
The earl looked at Lola, and though his gaze was still filled with resentment, it did not seem to hold quite the same degree of contempt that it had in her dressing room last night. “God knows you’re not the woman I would have chosen for my son, and despite what’s happened here tonight, the rest of society will not be welcoming you with open arms.”
“Quite right, Conyers,” Lady Trubridge said, walking around her husband to take the earl’s arm. “But I assure you, I shall be giving the girl a proper and gradual introduction to society once she and Somerton are married, and though it won’t be easy, we shall all do what we can. Now,” she added, delicately pulling the earl away, “I believe they will begin serving dinner in a moment, so perhaps we should adjourn to the other room?”
She began leading the earl toward the door, beckoning others to follow, but the earl didn’t seem quite ready to depart. He paused, giving Lola one last belligerent glare over his shoulder. “You’ll give up the acting, miss,” he told her. “And do try and produce at least one son so that my imbecile of a nephew doesn’t end up with my title.”
With that, he walked into the dining room, Lady Trubridge on his arm. The others followed in their wake—Denys’s mother with Nick, dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief, Denys’s friends and their wives, and ten or twelve other people Lola didn’t know at all. But as they went, each person gave her a nod of acknowledgment, telling her that among those in this room at least, she and Denys had support.
Denys’s sister came last. “Welcome to the family,” she said, giving Lola a smacking kiss on the cheek. “You’ve no idea what you’ve let yourself in for.”
Lola smiled, liking the girl’s sass. “Oh, but I think I do. I’ve already gone three rounds with your father.”
“Papa?” She made a sound of derision. “He’s nothing. Wait until you meet Grandmamma.”
