“Esther,” her father said. “Come in and sit down, please. This is my good friend, the Earl of Walton.”
“Good evening,” Esther said automatically. She had never met the Earl of Walton before. Could he really be a good friend of her father’s? If that was so, why had she never heard his name?
“Good evening, Lady Esther,” the Earl said. He did not bother rising to his feet to greet her, so Esther took a seat without approaching him or offering a curtsy. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Esther looked from her mother to her father, confused. What was she doing here? What was the Earl of Walton doing here? What was this all about?
“Esther,” her father said. “Lord Walton has agreed to accept your hand in marriage.”
Esther’s jaw dropped. Her heart sank.
Marriage? Marriage to this gentleman? But he’s twice my age!
Just days ago, she had felt certain she was about to accept an offer of marriage from Hugh, who was young and handsome and made her feel things she had never imagined she would feel.
Now it was over, and her parents wanted to see her married to a withered old Earl.
They can’t mean it. This is some kind of trick. They’re trying to scare me. In a minute, he’ll go away, and they’ll offer me something else, and I’ll be so relieved that this wasn’t real that I’ll have to accept it.
And she would accept it. She would accept anything, if it meant she wouldn’t have to marry Lord Walton.
He was leering at her now, looking her up and down, clearly assessing her beauty. She felt like a piece of livestock about to be sold.
“Mother,” she managed. “May I speak to you? Privately?”
Her mother looked away and said nothing.
“There’s no need to be rude to your guest, Esther,” her father said sharply. “Lord Walton has come a long way. He has generously agreed to have the wedding in a week’s time.”
Esther drew a breath. She had to say something quickly, she knew, or she would lose her chance forever.
“If I could go back to London,” she said. “I could—a young lady only gets one Season, Father. Forgive me, Lord Walton, but if I had a little more time—”
“No time is needed,” her father said sternly. “And really, Esther, you’re being very rude.” He turned to Lord Walton. “Forgive her, My Lord. She’s always been willful.”
“I can handle a stubborn lady,” Lord Walton said appraisingly. “I like a challenge. And for her beauty, I’m more than happy to take on a difficult personality. It will be like taming a wild horse.”
“Excuse me?” Esther gasped. She didn’t know where to begin.
I amnota wild horse!
I don’t have a difficult personality!
I’m not going to behandled!
Before she could say any of this, there was a knock at the door. The butler opened it and came inside.
“My Lord,” he said to Esther’s father.
“What’s the meaning of this interruption?” her father demanded. “Did I not tell you that I didn’t wish to be bothered while Lord Walton was here?”
“You did,” the butler agreed. “It’s just that someone else has arrived at the door.”
“Who?” Esther’s father asked.
“He claims to be the Duke of Hallowbinder.”
Esther’s head snapped up.
