Chapter 2

Theodore tilted his head, observing Miss Young. She was staring at him as though she had just seen a ghost. He was not surprised, however. She glanced about the room as though expecting to find someone else there.

"The Marquess…of…Gillingham?" she asked, her gaze uncertain.

He smiled at her surprise. Of course, she did not expect him to call upon her. "I thought it prudent to introduce myself properly," he began smoothly. "Our encounter in the park left much to be desired," he added with a light chuckle.

"Did you travel all this way simply to present another rose?" she inquired, and Theodore thought her rather bold for a young lady. Honestly, he had expected her to be meek and blushing like the rest of the unmarried women of the ton.

"Oh, I'm afraid that particular rose is no longer on offer," he returned with a teasing smirk. "I'm not in the habit of repeating my offers, Miss Young."

Something flashed in her pale blue eyes, then she blinked. Seeming to recall propriety, she curtsied. "I am delighted to make your acquaintance, My Lord," she murmured, looking far from delighted. "Please, do be seated." She gestured at the chairs around them.

Theodore waited for her to perch—rather uncomfortably—on the edge of a sofa before lowering himself into a chair adjacent.

"What brings you here, My Lord?" she asked.

His gaze wandered past her shoulder to the open French doors leading to the garden, and he decided it would be better if they discussed outside. "Would you care for a stroll around your beautiful gardens?" he proposed.

"Are you now assuming the role of host in my own home?" She seemed astounded by his audacity.

He could not help the grin that touched his lips. "I beg your pardon, Miss Young. I find gardens irresistible."

Something flashed again in her eyes—likely an ill opinion of him, which was not surprising, given his reputation—but she stood gracefully. He gained his feet, as well, and offered her his arm. Theodore kept his gaze on the doors to keep his old habits from interfering. It would be too easy to gaze and appreciate her. The first time he saw her was last night at a ball, but candle light had not done her justice. In day light, he could see why she garnered much attention from society. She was a beauty, but the whispers kept gentlemen from approaching her.

They stepped out into the garden, and she said, "You're still not telling me the purpose of your visit, Lord Gillingham."

"I see patience is not one of your talents," he replied, hoping his light tone would break the tension forming between them.

She reacted instantly, her cheeks warming with indignation and adding a lively hue to her serene beauty. He found this striking, despite intending to keep their exchange formal.

"I'm not good at wasting time," she retorted, locking eyes with him in a bold challenge.

Theodore chuckled at her assertive yet captivating demeanor. He was certain that she was aware of his reputation, and she did not know what to make of him or his visit "I have an offer for you, Miss Young."

"I seem to recall you saying that you do not make an offer twice?" Her eyes gleamed with smugness as she said that.

"I'm not offering that rose again. That is gone. This is something different. An opportunity," he replied, transforming her expression from skepticism to curiosity.

"What is this opportunity?" she asked, thinly veiling her impatience behind composure.

"A beneficial deal between us. It solves your current issue as well as mine," he hinted.

"Issue?" Her expressive eyes flared. Theodore could tell she understood him perfectly, and she was silently challenging him to say it.

He further elaborated. "Both of our reputations, Miss Young. I need your help in securing a business deal. In return, I'll assist you in finding a suitable match before the season's end."

"How could I possibly help you with that? I am not versed on the intricacies of business, My Lord." She paused their walk and turned to face him.

"The gentleman I wish to enter into a venture with is very particular about people's character. He believes a good man must be married—that is a sign of responsibility." Theodore studied the consternation in her expression. Was he that horrid that the notion of marriage to him frightened her?

"I thought titles were indicative of responsibility," she said.

"Not to this particular person. He believes marriage has a grounding effect on a man."

Her voice shook slightly when she said, "You cannot be proposing marriage, My Lord."

"No, I am not," he replied, and her small shoulders immediately relaxed.

"To win his trust, we need to follow the conventional courtship rituals," he added, noting her engaged expression.

"So you want me to play along as if we're courting?" she concluded thoughtfully.

"Yes. A charade of sorts. We attend six events together, and by the end, I secure my deal and you find your match," Theodore clarified concisely.

"Why me?" she asked after considering his proposition, a tone of disbelief mixing with curiosity.

"You need a way out of your predicament," he replied sincerely. "We need each other."

"Presumptuous of you to assume I need help with no proof at all," she snapped back, catching Theodore off guard.

"I apologize. Perhaps ‘situation' fits better," he corrected.

This appeased her slightly, and the furrow in her fine brows disappeared. He found their banter amusing—Miss Young was as intriguing as she was direct.

"Most ladies would like to improve their prospects?—"

"I am not most ladies," she stated emphatically.

"Precisely. That is why I believe you will agree to this without…expectations."

"By ‘expectations,' you mean…"

"A lasting commitment—marriage, at the end of the deal," Theodore detailed, watching her reaction closely. She seemed as uninterested in the notion of marriage as he was—a good sign.

"What makes you think I won't reveal your clever scheme?" Her tone held a trace of playful defiance, and he chuckled.

"Firstly, it is strategic," he argued, despite his growing desperation. His woes were like a mountain, and he needed Miss Young to agree. He yearned to be the respectable Marquess of Gillingham, not the libertine he had become, living in the shadow his father cast.

Miss Young was his only option. Her circumstances mirrored his own, making her a suitable accomplice in this venture. "Secondly, if you expose our plan, you risk just as much," he said hastily. Instant regret followed the implications of his comment.

Her cheeks colored, and her eyes flared. "I beg your pardon, My Lord, but do you usually threaten those from whom you want favors?" she demanded, halting their walk through the garden.

"You misinterpret my words…" he tried to clarify.

"I understand perfectly," she stopped him coldly. "You believe rumors about me have forced me into desperation. I'm not jumping at your every proposal." She looked at him with such conviction that it brooked no argument. "To put it simply—I am not interested." Miss Young removed her hand from his arm and took a step back, curtsying politely, yet coolly. "Now, Lord Gillingham, I have more urgent matters to handle. I will send the butler to show you out."

As she left, the irony didn't escape him; in trying to ensure his future, he might've jeopardized it further. He had to admire her pride, however. Another lady would have jumped at this opportunity, but the truth was that no lady would want courtship from him without marriage.

Instead of allowing the butler to show him out, Theodore left on his own terms. He climbed his barouche that was waiting in front of the house, and movement from one of the windows caught his eye. He looked in time to see Miss Young duck out of view. He chuckled and shook his head, driving off.

Despite her rejection, he couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for her spirited nature. She was unlike any woman he had ever encountered. She might have rejected his offer, but she was still very curious about him. Perhaps he could use that to his advantage somehow.

Theodore arrived home as the sun dipped below the horizon. Quentin opened the door and received his hat, saying, "Good evening, My Lord. I have a missive for you."

Theodore nodded in acknowledgment, taking the letter from Quentin's outstretched hand. With a murmured thanks, he glanced down to see that it was from his solicitor before he headed to his study and broke the seal with a flick of his fingers. He unfolded the parchment and read.

Dear Lord Gillingham,

I am pleased to inform you that there has been significant interest in the property you have put up for sale. Two affluent parties have expressed their desire to acquire the estate. Both have requested a meeting with you to discuss the terms of the sale. Would you be available to entertain these prospective buyers at your earliest convenience?

Sincerely,

Mr. Thompson

Theodore's heart quickened at the news. This could be the solution to his financial woes that he had been desperately seeking. Alas, it was not what he wanted. It was the only un-entailed property he possessed, and it was a bequest from his mother.

How could he part with it?