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breathed, and whose every moment was caught up in trifling jealousies or infelicitous calf love. He cursed himself for a fool to be so taken by Amaryllis’s smile.
    He bent his mind, instead, to the question.
    â€œMy lord . . . Stephen . . . may I ask . . . that is . . . I cannot help wondering why I am your choice. You are not in love with me—how could you be?—and I cannot believe the nonsense put about by my mama that our land marches close together. Hastings land is but a garden meadow compared with yours! There must be some other reason for your offer and I believe I have the right to know it before taking this . . . this . . . step.”
    A faint gleam hovered about Stephen’s eyes.
    â€œThis horrible step?”
    â€œNo. Oh, no!” Amaryllis’s answer was speaking. “This . . . significant step. Marriage is a very final thing.”
    â€œSo is spinsterhood.”
    â€œYou are saving me from spinsterhood?”
    Amaryllis’s tone was panicked. This must surely be the most humiliating reason ever given for a marriage offer!
    â€œI would not be so unmannerly as to say such a thing, but I overheard one or two remarks about you which were both absurd and . . . and . . . downright nonsensical. I could not take up the cudgels in your defense—that would have been improper—but I did think that if I made you an offer it would silence a good few tongues.”
    Silence a good few tongues! Amaryllis felt the color rise to her cheeks in mortification. This betrothal would not silence tongues! It would set them wagging like she was a nine-day wonder, no less!
    Still, the thought of the likes of Martha Caddington being forced to give her precedence was pleasant, but more like a silly daydream than any kind of reality. It was not the best basis for a marriage, though Amaryllis felt absurdly grateful that someone of Stephen’s caliber should put himself to such pains on her behalf. She brushed back a tear and hoped Lord Redding would think it was merely sunshine in her eyes.
    â€œMy dear, I have expressed myself badly! I would not have offered for you for that reason alone, for there are many young ladies who suffer from spiteful tongues and I cannot be expected to rescue all of them! No, let us just say, Amaryllis, that you are saving me from bachelorhood.”
    Amaryllis laughed, and the most delightful dimples appeared on her cheeks. Stephen wondered why he had never noticed them before. Perhaps because she was always so earnest in company!
    â€œYou talk in riddles, sir. You need no saving, for there must be a hundred young ladies at least dangling after you.”
    â€œIndeed. Dangling after my title, you mean. I shall be perfectly direct, Amaryllis. I need an heir—preferably, though not necessarily—in the immediate future. I would very much like to be a father. My estimable mama is also badgering me like a bloodhound to marry.
    â€œWhilst there are several suitable young candidates—I shall not hide this from you—you seem to me to be the most sensible and the kindest. I cannot say I will make a good husband, for I almost certainly shall not. In matters of—shall we say the heart?—I shall tread my own way and expect you to be complacent. I shall always, however, accord you respect, for though I may not love you, I do admire and like you.”
    Stephen took a breath and noted, with a frown, the high flush on Amaryllis’s cheeks. His tone was gentler as he continued. “I do not expect you to care for me, Amaryllis—not in the traditional way—but I do think you might grow to hold me in esteem and that is as good a basis I know of for such a union.”
    Amaryllis hardly knew how to respond. He continued with a wry smile.
    â€œDo not, I pray you, look so terribly forlorn! I do not offer you love in the conventional sense, but I am not an ogre! You will be compensated by a title, such as it is worth, all the pin money you