Never Land the First Fish

Chapter Thirty-Two, Part 2

"No, I am mostly sincere. The fact Athol was trying to kill you has made the rounds of the gossip mill and gained you some sympathy, and the whole of his history has been dragged up. The verdict did not do you harm, nor the news you are in possession of an estate and a portion of the Wellbridge fortune. But there's also a rumour you've been mistress to me and to Maddox this whole time."

Julia flushed red; not from embarrassment, but anger. "It infuriates me to be locked in a manor house in disgrace, with the whole of England calling me a trollop, and you can go on dancing attendance on rich widows as though nothing untoward ever happened at all!"

"Jealous of the widows, my sweet?"

Julia narrowed her eyes at him, so he continued. "I have spent far more time in the company of the doyennes than the widows I am so famous for, clearing your name to the extent it can be cleared." With a wink, he added, "It would be much easier had you married me by now. Or if you had been nicer all those years."

Julia slapped him lightly on the hand reaching for his glass and he chuckled.

"I'm afraid Athol's reputation—what there ever was of one—is quite destroyed."

"Good."

"The Wellbridges, including the dowager duchess, are working their collective magic among the ton, painting you as a wronged wife whose protection they should have undertaken sooner. The rumour you've been made wealthy in your own right will bring the last stragglers around to your defence, given enough time. Indeed, every fortune hunter I know—and I know most of them—is willing to overlook any lingering 'reputation' to marry your money."

"That's as likely as a snake growing toes."

"Indeed, and that is what I told them. You have no time for suitors because you were going to marry me."

"You told people I was going to marry you, without me giving you leave?"

"Not exactly. I simply told people I had proposed. It is hardly my fault no one thinks any woman can resist me." He waggled his eyebrows.

She was having none of his nonsense. "You should have corrected them immediately!"

"I corrected one man's misunderstanding with my right fist."

"You did what?!"

"Come now, Julia, you agreed that I could exploit the tale of us falling in love. That story ends in marriage, anywhere that matters. And there are some things a man cannot tolerate being said about his fiancé. I had to do it."

"I am appalled at you! I cannot believe you have let the whole of London think I have agreed to marry you!"

"I won't apologize for doing everything in my power to rehabilitate your reputation, Julia. And that will require marriage, now that we are back in England, no matter what you wish to tell yourself. In the meantime, if I am to visit you here and talk about our romance to everyone in London, then a betrothal is needed by way of explanation."

"By way of explanation? Do you hear yourself?"

She was gathering a head of steam, and Gills could just not abide it. "Julia, sweet, I have had an unbearable month doing absolutely everything we agreed and more, and I was so looking forward to just being in your company tonight. May we fight tomorrow?"

Thankfully, she nodded her assent, though she wasn't offering to hold his hand, which she had begun to do before he'd left. Nor did she offer up another topic of conversation. He would bet his life she wasn't going to invite him into her bed tonight. He'd almost certainly be back at the inn before long.

Finally, he asked, "How did you get on with your tenants and the villagers?"

Another flush rising in her face was his answer, but this time, she had been humiliated. Perhaps he could comfort her and earn back her goodwill.

"It was as I expected. No one turns up their noses at my money, but everyone turns their noses up at me. They will come 'round when I start work on the farms and cottages in two weeks' time. When they see I mean to improve their lives."

Without a husband, Gills doubted that very much.

"The vicar has been very kind."

Vicars took vows and were paid to be kind.

"It isn't as though I can't have anything I like delivered from London by train."

"That is true. Which reminds me, I brought you something from London."

A slight smile took the hard edge off her anger, and she looked suddenly shy. "You did?"

"Do you believe I am lying to you?" He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small velvet pouch. He handed it across to her and she took it, seemingly a bit reluctant. "It will not bite, Julia. No obligation is implied in looking at it."

At that, her eyes grew suspicious, but her smile widened just a touch. She started to open it, but then turned to him. "Whatever this is, it does not absolve you of telling the entirety of London that I mean to marry you."

"But I did not do that, sweet. We've established that."

"As good as."

"The entirety of London chose to believe a half-truth was whole."

With a harrumph, she opened the drawstring of the bag and pulled out a gold ring with an amber stone. "Is this..."

"Yes, it is. There is obligation implied, but you have to choose to wear it first."

"You cannot ask me to marry you when I am angry at you."

"How often does that allow?" He winked at her as he dropped to one knee. "Julia, my love, please honour and delight me by choosing to become my wife. I cannot promise not to annoy you, even make you angry—heaven knows I cannot promise that—but I can promise to make you laugh and give you all I can and do everything in my power to make you happy. And love you. I promise to love you."

"Oh, Gills." Tears welled up and she found it hard to speak until she saw he'd gone a bit pale waiting for her answer. "Yes, Gills. Yes. I will marry you. As long as you understand—"

"—As long as I understand this doesn't absolve me of my crimes."

"Exactly."

"I would never think so. I can, however, think of a excellent way to spend the evening making it up to you and celebrating our recent betrothal."

"You are an awful man. Will you stay to supper?"