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Indeed, I find myself wishing more and more for that happy state known as fatherhood. My own father, you see, was rather distant. I would like to reverse that cycle, if I can. You are not the first I have contemplated marriage with, but you are eminently suitable and I feel we shall deal handsomely together.”
    He hesitated as he saw the crushed expression on Amaryllis’s face. His tone grew gentle.
    â€œYou may know that there are several ladies I would not even contemplate marrying no matter what their dowry or lineage. I may not be in love with you—indeed, it would be foolish to pretend so—but I am nevertheless glad that you are the one I have chosen. I feel certain I shall not be disappointed in my choice.”
    For an instant, Amaryllis wanted to take the ring back and throw it in his face. He was not offering for her out of affection, merely out of calculation! It is tremendously lowering to think one is to be joined in wedlock because the matter is convenient, because an heir is required, because one’s bloodlines are appropriate . . . she felt ready to burst with chagrin.
    Then, as the moment grew as dangerous as it was ever likely to be, she noticed that the earl’s eyes were kind. Though they might be slightly ironic, they were laughing as much at himself as at her.
    â€œIt is strange, is it not, how society never seems satisfied until it has thrust every last bachelor and every last spinster into wedlock?”
    Amaryllis, recovering her composure, nodded.
    â€œIt seems a consuming passion, my lord.”
    â€œIndeed, and we are doubtless going to be grist for the gossip mills.”
    â€œMy lord . . .”
    â€œIf we are going to be betrothed, you might just as well call me by my given name. It is Stephen, in case you were unaware.”
    Amaryllis blushed, for naturally in her first throes of love she had discovered all she could about the noble Stephen Redding, and his earldom of Devonport. She did not say as much, however, but murmured that “Stephen” sounded too . . .
    â€œFamiliar?”
    She blushed again, if this was possible. My lord thought it a pity that she usually wore her hair braided so severely, or that her bonnets always hid half her face. She looked so much prettier with her honey-colored locks flowing softly about her face. When she blushed, her eyes grew round and misty.
    She nodded. “Yes. It is too familiar. We hardly know each other, after all.”
    â€œThat can be rectified. I am not an ogre, and though I might be some eight years older than you, I fancy I am not yet in my dotage. Come, call me Stephen, for I shall certainly call you Amaryllis!”
    â€œStephen . . .” Amaryllis hesitated, for though it was difficult, now was the time for plain speaking. Now, whilst the door was shut between them and the prying ears beyond. Now, before she was chaperoned to the alter or married, when the question would be too late to be asked.
    He waited, not prompting her, or making the matter any easier. The ormolu clocked ticked on the mantel. Amaryllis took a deep breath. Then she raised her eyes to Stephen’s and smiled.

Chapter Five
    Lord Redding needed to catch his breath. Her smile was more devastating than he had noticed before. He folded his arms behind his back. Nothing could be so intemperate as kissing her now. He had seen what became of relationships that began as love matches.
    His own mama’s had been a case in point and the matter had been disastrous. His father—long deceased—had trampled all over her feelings, dominated the household, and reduced her to many hours of tears.
    As a little boy this had made the greatest impression upon him, and he’d resolved long ago not to make the same mistake himself. He did not wish to see any wife of his hanging upon his shirtsleeves, her happiness dependent on his smiles. Neither, of course, did he wish to be the silly fellow whose heart burnt every time his wife