Page 48 of How to Lose a Lord in Ten Days

‘I am a gentleman,’ he said. ‘It would be the height of dishonour.’

Oh, lord.

‘Recollect no one knows we are engaged,’ she pointed out, taking another step towards him. ‘It cannot be that dishonourable.’

‘Lady Phoebe knows,’ he said. ‘Sir Waldo, Mr Brandon.’

‘It is supposed to be a secret,’ Lydia said acidly.

‘This is all your fault.’ Ashford combed a distracted hand through his wet hair. ‘If you had come to me, right at the beginning, and explained your position …’

‘You had already left town!’ she said. ‘I could not.’

‘Then I might have been able to prevent all of this,’ he continued as if she had not spoken. ‘But you did not, and now it is too late for anything but you to cry off.’

‘And live with Aunt Mildred?’ she said. ‘She is awful.’

‘At present,’ he said. ‘I could not care less if Aunt Mildred is a real-life ogre. You will cry off, today.’

‘If enough people know to risk your honour,’ she said, ‘then it is sufficient to risk my reputation, too.’

No gentlemen, not even Captain von Prett, was likely to fall in love with an ostracized woman. No hostess was likely to invite an ostracized woman to dinner.

‘You are young,’ he said. ‘Society will forgive you.’

‘Oh yes, Society is just so forgiving of young, untitled women,’ she said. ‘I think not. You let the news out so you must lump the dishonour.’

He leant forward. ‘No.’

‘You simply must.’

‘I simply will not.’

‘You must.’

‘No, you must.’

‘No, you—’

Ashford broke off. They were practically nose-to-nose, each glaring fiercely at the other. His grey eyes – ordinarily so calm, so benign, so blank – were now alight with rage.

The moment stretched, then Ashford turned away to take a deep breath – Lydia did not know quite why he was bothering; they did not seem to be calming him down.

‘The others will be wondering as to our whereabouts,’ he said, his voice tight. ‘Let us go. Later, we will discuss, calmly, our next steps over a cup of tea.’

‘You may drink all the tea you like,’ Lydia said, amazed her voice was so steady. ‘I already know what my next steps are. If you will not cry off today, then I will have no choice but to continue.’

‘Continue?’

‘Continue showing you how very awful your life would be, married to me,’ she said. ‘I have a great many other things planned, you know.’

‘Do you stoop now to blackmail?’ Ashford said quietly.

‘I will stoop to anything I need to,’ Lydia said, raising her chin. ‘For my freedom. I will sing every night—’

‘Stop!’

‘I will call Sir Waldo a duke and Lady Hesse a Miss, I will humiliate you in every single way I—’