The Scandal in Kissing an Heir by Sophie Barnes

What you did for Miss Brighton, for instance, and the way you refrained from attempting anything untoward with me at the ball when you had the opportunity to do so confirms that. It’s also possible that you think yourself capable of putting your rakehell ways behind you. I just don’t believe that your attempt to do so will last.”
    “You doubt my resolve. Why?” He sounded hurt. “If Kingsborough could do it, then why wouldn’t you think me capable?”
    “Because he has incentive,” she said, trying to be honest in spite of how guilty she felt as she looked back into his wounded eyes. “His entire family depends on him doing what is right, of him behaving properly. What incentive do you have other than that your aunt and uncle wish it?”
    Mr. Neville clenched his jaw. His eyes grew dark, and when he spoke again, there was deep resentment in his voice. “Because they’ll cut me off without a penny if I don’t come up to scratch.”
    Rebecca’s jaw dropped. Finally, it all made sense. She sank back against her seat. “Just as I feared, you were going to use me to your own advantage.”
    “As if it’s any worse than what you’ve been contemplating—marriage to a man of your own choosing so you can escape the suitors your aunt and uncle have in mind for you.”
    “Of course it’s worse,” she said, both stunned and disappointed at discovering that he hadn’t been sincere in his pursuit of her, although deep inside she’d known he would never have considered her an option if he’d had a choice. “I am not attempting to marry for material gain, Mr. Neville, but to avoid a life that I would not be able to bear living. Money will be of no consequence to me if I am unhappily wed and forced to suffer the marriage bed with a man old enough to be my grandfather.” She caught herself, realizing that her voice had risen in frustration. Taking a deep breath, she attempted to speak calmly. “But by marrying you instead . . .” Dear Lord, she dared not contemplate the heartache that marrying Mr. Neville might bring. With the effect that he was having on her this early on, she feared it would only be a matter of time before she fell in love with him, a man whom she doubted would ever accept the affections of only one woman. Eventually he would stray, and once he did, it would break her heart. “You will have accomplished the task set for you by your aunt and uncle, while I will have exchanged one predicament for another.”
    “How so?”
    Was he serious?
    “Because the only reason you wish to marry me is for financial gain.”
    “And the only reason you wish to marry me is so you do not have to marry Topperly or Grover,” Mr. Neville insisted. “You may wish to pretend that one reason is more noble than the other, but I disagree.”
    She would not argue with him, for in a sense he had a point. Furthermore, he did not have the advantage of knowing her heart’s desire or the pain she was currently feeling at being equated with a bag of gold. She’d allowed herself to imagine that he looked at her with appreciation and some measure of desire, but all it had been was greed—not for her but for the allowance that she would secure for him if they married. Worst of all was the fact that she still wanted him as desperately as a woman lost in a desert longed for water.
    Feigning indifference, she said, “I will elope with you on one condition,” she said.
    His eyes widened with expectancy; they were dark, so dark she felt sure she’d be able to stare into their depths indefinitely without growing tired. She licked her lips as she pondered her decision and then finally said, “You must convince me that I will never look back on doing so with regret. You are young and healthy, Mr. Neville, so I have every reason to believe that our marriage will be a lengthy one—one I won’t escape anytime soon should I accept your offer.” She paused for a moment, unwilling to give away too much of her concerns, as she