They turned to see Lady Georgiana hastening down the steps. Shock turned into determination on her brow. She carried flowers in one hand and the train of her dress in the other. Her movements were sharp, precise, and nothing less than graceful.
Forcing his gaze away, Owen still heard her objection perfectly.
“I’m not a pawn to be passed around.”
“Did everyone else hear?” her father grumbled.
“Father, please.” She turned to him, her skirts brushing against Owen’s boots. He looked down and glared at the yellow fabric. “This must be a jest. I cannot be tossed about like this. Father, let us go home. We can salvage this another day. Jean and Emma are outside––”
The Earl’s head jerked up. “What are they doing here?”
Owen couldn’t help but notice the way she avoided his question.
“We can go home as a family. Perhaps I won’t marry at all.”
Shaking his head, Ernest said, “You are marrying. It’s what your mother wanted for you. Besides, it’s about time you had your own household. We had an agreement––”
Except the stubborn woman continued. Owen found some relief that she too didn’t wish for a union. “This is much too rushed, switching grooms in minutes. There is no contract with Lord Egerton. We would need the banns to be read as well.”
“I have the archbishop here,” Owen supplied, before he remembered he didn’t care for this marriage either.
Georgiana’s sharp green eyes glared at him, and then she turned away. The effect or that glare lingered, making his heart thud hard against his ribs.
“We must think this through,” she begged.
“Ihave thought it through,” her father corrected her and then shifted his gaze to Owen. “You need to marry today, Georgiana. It’s expected. Anything less than that will make you and our entire family social pariahs. We will not be mocked. And why have a future marquess when you can have a duke?”
Owen braced himself for what was quickly becoming inevitable.
Judging by the short, gulping breaths, the young lady was quickly realizing this as well. She glanced between them before finally facing Owen. She must have given up on arguing with her father.
“You don’t want this.”
“I don’t,” Owen confirmed.
“Then don’t marry me.”
He let out a short breath. “A gentleman does not make an offer he doesn’t mean to keep. It would be dishonorable.”
“But you don’t want to marry me,” she begged and then huffed. “We don’t know each other. I’m not ready to become whatever it is you need in a duchess.”
Crossing his arms, Owen said with a scowl, “I don’t need anything. You may keep your freedom so long as you treat the name and title honorably. All that matters is the family honor.”
“The family honor?” She didn’t sound convinced. “You would accept that we live separately?”
He answered before he thought about it. “Buy your own house if you like.”
As the two of them stared at each other, waiting for something more to be said, Owen could sense the incredulity of the moment. Everything was about to change.
Perhaps she’ll do just that. Buy her own house. So long as she leaves me be, then I could very well even forget I have a wife.
“Then it looks like we have ourselves a wedding,” the Earl announced.
Maybe, Owen supposed, he could forget all of this tomorrow and pretend none of it had happened. He squared his shoulders and fixed his cuffs. A wife surely couldn’t derail his plans that much. He would never allow such a thing to happen.
CHAPTER7
Georgiana held a scream in the back of her throat.