“I’m glad to hear it.”
She’d planned to blurt it out, but it was incredibly hard to proceed. She’d been demanding he select a husband for her, and he had. How could she now claim she didn’t want that husband?
Her consternation must have been evident because his grin altered to a frown. “What’s wrong? Is someone vexing you?”
“I guess my topic is more difficult than I realized.”
“Just spit it out. I generally find that it’s the easiest way to begin. Once a subject is voiced, it’s never as tough as we were imagining.”
“You’re probably correct.” She took a deep breath and let it out, then she asked, “Are you sure I should marry Luke?”
“Yes, I’m absolutely sure, so why inquire? What’s this actually about?”
“I recognize that I’ll sound like a spoiled brat.”
“You don’t so far, but keep going. We’ll reassess my opinion after you’re finished.”
“Well, it’s just that Luke is so much older than me, and we’re practically strangers. What if we’re not compatible?”
“Oh, I see.” He leaned over and patted her hand. “You’re having pre-betrothal jitters. Every bride has them, and I can guarantee they’ll get worse as we march toward the wedding.”
“They’re not jitters, Father. I am having second thoughts.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’re having second thoughts? Why?”
“I told you why. You settled on Luke immediately, so you couldn’t have considered whether he’d be a good match for me. What if he’s not?”
He flashed an angry look she’d never previously witnessed from him. “Where is this bizarre sentiment coming from? We’re hosting a party for Luke so he can ascertain what an excellent wife you’d be. You can’t sit here and announce that you’re not interested.”
“He’s in love with someone else!”
“Who is? Luke?”
“Yes. I can’t agree to have him when he’s ardently attached to another. What kind of life would I have? The whole time, there would be a third person in the middle of it.”
“Who is she?” he snapped. “Tell me her name—if you can.”
“It’s Miss Carstairs.”
He blanched. “Where did you hear that?”
She couldn’t decide if she should admit it, but he didn’t appear to believe her. “From her cousin. Mr. Falcon? Apparently, they’ve been involved for ages and Luke has no intention of giving her up after he’s wed.”
A muscle ticked in her father’s cheek. “Mr. Falcon told you that?”
“Yes.”
“If that’s the case, then I fear you are being entirely too cordial with him.”
“Why would he lie about it?”
Her father muttered, “Why indeed?”
“Obviously, you doubt it’s true, but what if it is? I wouldn’t blame Luke. Miss Carstairs is so beautiful and gracious. Who could resist her? But if they’re in love, and I marry him, where would it leave me?”
Her father sighed. “I’ll talk to Luke. I’ll ask him about her and judge his reply.”
She was aghast. “You’ll ask him? You can’t! I’d die of shame!”
“I’m positive this rumor is ridiculous, and I must caution you to stay away from Mr. Falcon. If you won’t promise me you will, you’ll wind up stirring a dilemma I’d rather not have stirred.”
“What dilemma?”
“First off, I’d have to quietly demand he vacate the premises. Then I’d have to alert the footmen to watch for him so he couldn’t slink back to fraternize with you again. It would also mean I’d have to evict Miss Carstairs, and I won’t encourage that sort of gossip. It would be so awkward.”
“You’re being absurdly dramatic. Mr. Falcon and I are just friends!”
“You are about to become engaged, so any relationship with Mr. Falcon—even the most innocent one—is completely inappropriate.”
“I can’t marry Luke! I’ve changed my mind about it.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s not up to you. It’s up to me, and at the end of the party, I’m confident he’ll propose. Your future as Mrs. Lucas Watson is briskly winging in your direction. You can’t stop it, and I don’t want to stop it. I’m happy to have Luke as my son-in-law.”
“You picked him without thinking about me for a single minute!”
“I always think about you,” he said, “and Luke is the very best man I could have found. Would you calm down so I can finish my tea? Your complaints are giving me a terrible headache.”
He grabbed his newspaper and began reading it again. He studiously ignored her, while she seethed with fury.
She and her father never quarreled because he wouldn’t quarrel. It was impossible to fight with him. This was their most bitter conversation. She’d explained her reservations about Luke, had explained about Miss Carstairs, and her father had discounted her every comment.
How dare he scoff at her grievances! How dare he treat her like a child!
She had to locate Simon and apprise him of how shabbily her father had behaved. He’d have plenty of advice as to what she should do about it.
She jumped up and stomped to the door. As she was about to exit the room, Miss Fishburn entered. She was naught more than a glorified servant, and when she greeted Penny, Penny was rude for what was probably the only time ever. She continued on without acknowledging the other woman.
She stepped into the hall, and she glanced back, curious if her father had noticed her uncouth conduct. It would have provided him with evidence of how thoroughly he’d enraged her, but he’d already forgotten she’d been present.
He peered up at Miss Fishburn as if she hung the moon, gracing her with a look so warm and intimate that Penny was astonished.
“Good morning, Fish.” He used the casual nickname Simon and Miss Carstairs used.
“Good morning, Lord Roland.”
Miss Fishburn had utilized the proper mode of address, but they both chuckled, as if it was a private joke between them.
“You’re up so early,” she said to him, her voice oozing an innuendo Penny didn’t understand.
“I had a busy night,” he replied, “so I should be exhausted, but I’m filled with energy.”
“So
