Page 11 of When the Scoundrel Sins

“You are always welcome to visit.” Lady Ainsley admitted after a fleeting pause, “But that was not my prime motivation.”

Belle couldn’t breathe as the room tilted sickeningly beneath her. She held her breath, dreading this moment…

“Then why were we invited?” Quinn asked.

The question seemed to hover in the air like a trail of smoke. Knowing what was coming, Belle dropped her gaze to the carpet as embarrassment heated her cheeks.

“Because Annabelle needs a husband,” Lady Ainsley announced without preamble.

Oh God.Belle’s stomach plummeted right through the floor.

“Pardon?” both brothers rasped out simultaneously, their deep voices thick with bewilderment. And panic.

Mortification surged through her. Oh, she simply wanted to crawl under the settee and die!

With her cheeks heating, she glanced up to find Quinton staring at her. His puzzled gaze raked deliberately over her, as if he’d never seen her before. As if it had never occurred to him that she might become some man’s wife.

Belle rolled her eyes. The rascal was probably terrified that his aunt meant marriage tohim. Which only made Belle’s face heat even more with embarrassment. And irritation. After all, there was nothing wrong with her, for heaven’s sake! She’d make him a fine wife. If anything, he was the one who wouldn’t do for a husband for her if she proposed to the scoundrel and—

Oh.

Her heart skipped as an idea began to take shape at the back of her mind. A thoroughly desperate, utterly mad idea.

Aproposal…

Lady Ainsley explained quietly, “My late Ainsley insisted that Annabelle be taken care of after we’d both gone, to ensure a living and home for her. So we established an inheritance which would do exactly that.” Her shoulders lifted as she drew a deep breath. “We wanted to protect her from anyone who might try to do her harm, just as we wanted her to share her future with a loving husband, who would help her oversee her finances and provide the love and support she deserves. The same kind of marriage I shared with my Ainsley.”

“That was very kind of you and Uncle Charles,” Quinton murmured, drawing a concurring nod from Robert.

“We thought so,” Lady Ainsley agreed solemnly, her concerned gaze drifting to Annabelle, who looked away, unable to bear the viscountess’s helpless concern. “That was also why we attached a stipulation to the inheritance.”

Robert frowned. “Which is?”

“That I marry by the time I reach my twenty-fifth birthday,” Annabelle interjected grimly, to save Lady Ainsley from having to speak it. To ease at least a portion of the guilt Belle knew swirled inside the kind woman over this. She and Lord Ainsley had only wanted the best for Belle, and Belle had let them down by not finding a husband.

By not wanting one at all, if truth be told. Not unless she married for love.

“If I marry by then,” Belle continued quietly, not daring to meet Lady Ainsley’s gaze for fear one of the two women might break into sobs, “I will inherit Castle Glenarvon. If not, it goes to the Church.”

As the days grew closer and closer to her birthday, it seemed as if exactly that would happen. Unless…Belle took another glance at Quinton. While entering a love match no longer seemed an option, at the very least she wanted a husband who would allow her to keep the estate and run it exactly as she pleased. Someone who wouldn’t interfere.

Or whocouldn’tinterfere.

Hope fluttered inside her. The scoundrel might just prove helpful after all.

“So you understand that we must find her a husband.” The viscountess shifted her gaze between her two nephews. “And I expect both of you to help.”

“Helphow, exactly?” Robert asked suspiciously.

“In two days, after Sunday service at church, we will casually announce that Belle has been given a generous dowry. The estate of Castle Glenarvon.” The dowager’s lips twisted distastefully at all that implied. “I expect word to flood through the countryside and for suitors of all kinds to inundate our front hall in order to declare their intentions to marry her. We will have to choose the best man from among them.”

“But that’s…” Quinn began thoughtfully, his voice trailing off as he closely watched Belle.

Like auctioning me off to the highest bidder?But Belle didn’t dare speak that aloud, knowing how much it would wound Lady Ainsley.

“Exactly like any other young society lady who debuts in London and makes her intentions to marry known,” the dowager finished. “The only difference is that those ladies have several seasons to choose a husband, whereas we have only four weeks.”

Belle cringed. Lady Ainsley made it sound like a battle plan for capturing the enemy.