Seduction Becomes Her by Shirlee Busbee Page A

you wished to be married here?”

    Charles could easily obtain a Special License, but he rather thought that in this case, the calling of the banns might be better. He half smiled. The calling of the banns would give him time to convince what he was certain would be a recalcitrant bride of the wisdom of their marriage, and considering Sir Adrian’s position in the area, it seemed fitting that they marry here in Cornwall.

    “The banns will suffice,” Charles replied. “And I believe that Miss Beaumont would prefer to married here.” He glanced at Adrian. “Don’t you agree?”

    Adrian shot him a startled look, clearly unused to making decisions for his eldest sister. “Think you better talk to Daffy,” he said.

    “I shall do so first thing in the morning.” Charles grinned at him. “At the same time I propose to her.”

    Adrian grinned back at him. “I’ll warn you—Daffy’s used to having the bit in her teeth and doing as she pleases. Doubt she’ll take kindly to a firm hand on the rein.”

    “That may be, but I’m sure that we shall deal well together.”

    “Indeed, yes,” said the vicar. “Miss Beaumont has always struck me as a sensible young woman. I’m sure that when she considers the honor done to her by Mr. Weston, she will be gratified that a gentleman of his fortune and standing has chosen to marry her.” He smiled at Adrian. “Well, young man, Mr. Weston and I have some further business to discuss. Would you mind leaving us?”

    “Oh, not at all,” Adrian replied, adding artlessly, “Lord Trevillyan has promised to teach me to play billiards.”

    “Excellent!” said the vicar. “Since you and Lord Trevillyan will be busy, perhaps you would ask my wife to join Mr. Weston and myself.” A twinkle in his eyes, he added, “My wife will want to start planning the wedding.”

    Adrian laughed and promised that he would send in Mrs. Henley.

    A few minutes later, a smile on her pleasant features, Mrs. Henley came into the room and taking a seat by the fire, murmured, “I assume that all has been settled?”

    Charles tugged on his ear. “Yes, except for informing Miss Beaumont of my intentions.”

    “Ah, yes. Miss Beaumont has a mind of her own, but she seems all that is proper, and I am sure when the situation is explained to her, that she will be reasonable. After all, she can’t want to be looked at askance and shunned by society…nor, and probably more important to her, her brother and sister tarnished by this unfortunate affair. The tongues are already wagging.”

    His eyes shuttered, Charles asked, “Do you think that our marriage will scotch the scandal?”

    The vicar rubbed his chin. “In the long run, yes. There is bound to be gossip—I’m sure Squire Renwick’s wife is even now penning a letter to her sister who lives near Guildford and that Mrs. Houghton will be writing to her daughter in Ipswich all the delicious details of your, er, escapade.” He looked unhappy. “We cannot stop the news from spreading, but the calling of the banns this Sunday and the news that you are to be wed within the month will still any whispers. I think that it will be a nine days’ wonder and soon over and done with.”

    Mrs. Henley sent Charles an encouraging smile. “This cannot be easy for you, the pair of you being strangers, but from what I know of Miss Beaumont, I believe that she shall make you an exemplary wife, one who will not make you regret your marriage.”

    “I think we should worry,” Charles muttered, “whether Miss Beaumont finds marriage to me to her liking.”

    Vicar beamed at him. “You have nothing to fear on that head. I am positive that when you declare yourself, she will be beside herself with joy.”

     

    Having no inkling of the treat in store for her, Daphne woke just after dawn the next morning, feeling much refreshed. It was astonishing, she thought, what a good night’s sleep in one’s own bed could accomplish, particularly when one was