It was exactly what he’d been thinking himself, so why should Cal’s words annoy him so much? But they did. “Women are ruled by emotion. It’s your decision as head of the family, is it not?”
Cal snorted. “There speaks the carefree—and ignorant—bachelor. On such things my wife and the girls have very strong opinions—and I can see their point. My own marriage was quite unpromising at the start, but . . . Well, suffice it to say that having found unexpected felicity in marriage, I want the same for my sister.” He rose. “I’ll let you make her your offer, and then, depending on her answer, the family will decide how to handle this mess.” He moved toward the door but before he reached it, it opened and Lady Ashendon entered.
“Oh, I’m sorry, my dear, I didn’t realize you were engaged,” she said coolly. Ned took leave to doubt that. He was quite certain she knew exactly what had been going on.
“Mr. Galbraith, how do you do? So good of you to call on us. I was expecting you last week.” There was a hint of reproof in her voice; this was not the warm and grateful woman he’d encountered when he’d brought Lily home.
Cal gave her a significant look. “Mr. Galbraith has come to pay a call on Lily.”
“Of course. Please be seated.” She arranged herself on the sofa and patted the seat beside her. Cal took it. She angled a cool glance at Ned and, recollecting she’d been a schoolmistress, he sat on a chair opposite.
“You have come to make Lily an offer.” It wasn’t a question.
“I have.”
She nodded. “We have been considering the possibility—and our choices.”
He raised a brow. “Indeed.” As far as he was concerned there wasn’t a choice.
“I’ve already—” Cal began. She slid her hand into her husband’s and he didn’t finish his sentence.
“There is no need for you and Lily to be forced into a marriage, Mr. Galbraith. The scandal was none of your making, and you are both innocent of any wrongdoing.”
Ned watched as Cal stroked his thumb back and forth over his wife’s hand. A small, barely noticeable movement—neither of them even seemed aware of the quiet caress; it was something they both took for granted—and yet watching it, watching them, caused a strange hollowness in Ned’s chest.
She continued, “Indeed, you behaved quite heroically in saving her from an appalling fate, and we very much appreciate your honorable motives in being prepared to offer marriage to her.” Her smile warmed. “But there is no need for such a sacrifice.”
“Sacrifice?”
“On both your parts. If no scandal had arisen, would you be here now, preparing to make my sister-in-law an offer?”
“No, but—”
“Exactly. A scandal is temporary, but marriage is for a lifetime. We are Lily’s family and we will ride this scandal out together. To be sure there will be some initial unpleasantness, but that will eventually fade. Lily is an earl’s daughter with a handsome fortune. There will be gentlemen a-plenty willing to overlook a whiff of scandal for the sake of marriage with a titled heiress. So there’s no need for you to concern yourself any further.”
It was a clear dismissal, and he should have been relieved. Instead he was angry. This was the second time members of the Rutherford family had told him that Lily was none of his business, that he should take himself off and forget about it, about her.
But they were the ones who had let her be abducted in the first place. He was the one who’d saved her and brought her home. And he was not to be dismissed with a pat on the head, like a schoolboy returning a stray puppy.
“How?” he asked. Lady Ashendon paused in the middle of rising, and Ned repeated his question, “How do you intend to ride out the scandal? What exactly are your plans?”
She settled back on the sofa. “Since the rumors are contradictory, and there were no actual witnesses, we shall simply ignore it and go on as usual. Eventually some other scandal will occur and the ton’s attention will move on.”
“And in the meantime, Lily must simply endure being gossiped about until it dies down? Not acceptable.” He folded his arms. “Besides, there was a witness, one that the ton will not doubt. Lady Ampleforth saw us traveling together.”
Cal swore. His wife glanced at him. “Lady Ampleforth?”
“Aunt Agatha’s greatest rival.”
“I confronted her earlier,” Ned said. “She has seized on it as a way of paying your aunt back for some ancient insult and is, quite gleefully, doing her best to keep the rumor alive. Short of a bullet, you won’t shut her up.” He rose to his feet. “So enough of this nonsense. Perhaps you would allow me to speak to Lily now.” Lady Ashendon opened her mouth to speak and he held up a hand. “I don’t need you to tell me I’m not worthy of her—believe me, I know it—but I can and will protect her from a scandal she does not deserve.”
“And after that?” Lady Ashendon asked. “When you are husband and wife?”
“After that . . .” He wasn’t prepared to give false assurances. He swallowed. “After that I shall support her as any man does his wife.”
There was a short silence as everyone in the room considered the inadequacy of that statement. Lady Ashendon spoke first. “And what if she refuses you?”
“It is her right. I won’t try to force her. But whether her answer is yea or nay, know this—I won’t walk away and leave her to face the scandal alone.”
Lady Ashendon regarded him thoughtfully for a long moment. Then she gave a brisk nod. “Very well, Mr. Galbraith, Lily will be down in a moment.” She put her hand out and Cal helped her to rise. As she did, her dress pulled briefly tight across her belly.
She was in the family way, Ned saw. Probably why Cal allowed his wife so much license.
As Cal opened the door for her, Ned thought of something. “Cal, before you go—”
Cal
