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mentioned it. “Why would you think that?”
    “It’s just that there appears to be gossip going around about us and a kiss in the garden. As my father forbade my brothers to say anything—and they are quite familiar with his temper—I can’t imagine how the rumors might have started.”
    “What does it matter? We’re to be married in a little over a week.”
    “Yes, but we wanted people to believe that we were marrying because we wanted to, not because we were forced to as a result of my disgraceful behavior. My father is quite adamant that there be no scandal associated with our family.”
    Reaching across the table, he placed his hand over hers, where it rested beside her plate. “Be assured, my sweet, that I am marrying you because I want to. Scandal or no.”
    “Still, it’s perplexing.”
    “People are always talking about one thing or another. Don’t concern yourself with it.”
    “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” Although without the discovery in the garden, would she be marrying him? Choice had been taken away from her. It hadn’t really mattered at the time because she liked Litton, and Chetwyn was involved with Lady Anne. But what if he hadn’t been? What might have been was of no consequence. She would go mad if she focused on that rather than what was.
    Shifting her gaze over to Chetwyn, she discovered him watching her. He would be about all day. Their paths might cross on occasion. Tonight a theater group would be performing A Christmas Carol, but until then she could find herself partnered with Chetwyn during a session of parlor games this afternoon. She could barely tolerate the thought.
    “I was thinking of taking a walk,” she told Litton.
    “Where?”
    She laughed lightly. “Outside, of course.”
    “My sweet, there’s half a foot of snow out there.”
    “I have my boots. I thought you might care to join me.”
    Shaking his head, he rubbed his temples. “I feel as though my skull is about to split open.”
    “I’m so sorry. Why ever did you get out of bed, then?”
    “I’ve not yet been to bed. I thought some coffee might help with the pounding in my head.”
    “You’ve been up all night?” She kept her horror at the thought contained. What if he’d decided that he wanted a game of billiards, if he and other gentlemen had walked in to see Chetwyn kissing her—or worse, her returning the kiss with equal fervor? The scandal would have ruined her, perhaps even her family. Her father would have never forgiven her.
    “Cards do not run on a schedule, so yes, all night,” he said.
    “But you were losing. Why would you keep at it?”
    He shrugged. “I didn’t wager that much.”
    While he didn’t say it, she couldn’t help but think that her dowry, which would soon be his, would settle his debt.
    “Besides,” he continued, “I can’t expect you to understand the thrill of acquiring the perfect hand.”
    “You won’t continue to gamble like this when we’re married, will you?”
    He stood. “I’m off to bed.” Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’ll see you this evening.”
    When she glanced over and saw Chetwyn still studying her, she wished Litton had taken her in his arms and given her a resounding kiss that would cause the windows to fog over. She also wished that she wasn’t suddenly filled with misgivings.
    C hetwyn was standing outside taking in some fresh air when he spied Merry traipsing off in the direction of the castle that had once been the official family residence. He hadn’t meant to stare at her during breakfast, but he’d had a rough night of it, unable to forget the feel of her in his arms. Watching her with Litton—touching, talking, and smiling—had been torment. He wanted to begin his day with her at his breakfast table.
    Bloody hell. He wanted to begin his day with her in his bed. Breakfast would come later.
    As she disappeared, he glanced around. Surely she wasn’t going off by herself. She must have arranged a