Caleb, the sixth Marquess of Keery, ignored the prying eyes of the Countess of Bailey as he marched down the hallway toward his guest chamber, his jacket and cravat swinging in his hand. How the bloody hell had he allowed himself to be caught in the parson’s noose? And, to add insult to injury, he had been entrapped not by a beguiling coquette, but by a wilting violet the likes of Lady Jane Shillington. How the mousiest of wallflowers had won the game so many bolder ladies had lost was beyond his comprehension.

Rakehells like himself did not allow such things to happen—not unless they wanted them to, which he most certainly did not. He had reasons—good ones—for remaining a bachelor. Did she know nothing of his scandalous harlot of a mother? Or sweet little Maggie’s fate? What a bloody fool Lady Jane was for placing herself under his protection. Then again, she might not know of Maggie’s downfall, for which he still blamed himself. The mere thought of that long-ago folly made his chest so tight he could scarcely draw breath.

And speaking of follies, what had possessed him to offer Lady Jane marriage?

Well, no matter, what was done was done. Now, he could only endeavor to make the best of a bad situation by keeping a safe margin of distance between them. That way, he could both protect her and guard his heart against a recurrence of the pain his mother inflicted. Besides which, a marriage of convenience should serve him well in this case, for he could never fall in love with such a meek and plain creature.

He balled his cravat in his fist as he turned down the corridor leading to his guest chamber. He would do what duty demanded. Change, shave, secure a license, and wed Lady Jane by morning. As much as it pained him to admit it, there remained no other choice for either of them.

“Keery,” His long time friend, Lord Luvington approached and clapped him on the back. “I have been looking for you.”

Caleb shot him an annoyed glance. “I haven’t the time to entertain you at present.”

Luvington studied him for a moment with a teasing gleam in his eye. “Why so surly this morning, friend? Did your lady bird fail to satisfy last night?”

“Stuff it, Luvington.” Caleb narrowed his gaze.

“Come now, it cannot be as bad as all that.”

“You have no idea.” Caleb stepped faster, eager for the safety of his room.

Luvington, to Caleb’s consternation, kept pace “True, though I am most curious. Is a lady to blame?”

Caleb entered his room with Luvington on his heels. After closing the door, he pivoted to face his friend. “There is always a lady to blame, at least in part. I woke in Lady Jane’s bed this morning…unclothed.”

“How the bloody hell…?”

“I fear it gets much worse.” Caleb raked his fingers through his hair and licked his lips. “Her brother and his wife caught us. When they burst into her chamber, I was half dressed. Shillington challenged me to a duel to avenge her honor, which I answered with an offer of marriage.”

“Perhaps you will discover that marriage suits you.” Luvington poured two glasses of scotch and handed one to Caleb. “Here, it will soften your rough edges.”

Caleb scowled at his friend. “There is not enough booze in all of England to fix my mood.”

“I imagine not. All the same, have a drink.”

Caleb downed the contents of his glass, wishing the liquor’s burn could scrub away the last eight hours. Alas, nothing could undo the mess he’d made. He sat the glass down a bit too forcefully and resumed dressing. “I must secure a special license at once. Shillington wants us wed before the entire party learns of his sister’s disgrace.”

“I will go with you.”

“And what of your own wife?” Caleb slanted his glance at his friend. Surely, Lady Luvington would not wish to be left alone at the party.”

“Do not concern yourself with my wife. Soon enough, you will have your own to tend to.” Luvington chuckled. “I would not miss a moment of this. Regardless, Lady Luvington has her own plans for the day.”

Caleb pulled the bell to call his manservant, then went to his washbasin. “Very well, meet me in the stable in twenty minutes.”

With a nod of assent, Luvington quit the room, leaving Caleb to stew in the juices of anger and regret. Bloody fool! He peered at his reflection in the looking glass, knowing despite his accusations to the contrary, he bore the sole blame for what had happened. Regardless of his feelings and desires, he would have to do his best to be a good husband. What a shame he had not the vaguest idea how to go about it.

* * *

“Please leave me to myself for a little while.” Jane stared at Henry, her gaze imploring. She could not discuss what happened anymore, or the results of the situation. When Henry made no move to honor her wish, she added, “I have agreed to wed Lord Keery. What more do you want?”

“The bastard’s head on a platter.” Henry seethed. “He deserves to be punished for ruining you, not rewarded.”

Jane flinched at the fury in her brother’s tone before squaring her shoulders and pinning him with her gaze. “I am as much to blame as he is.” Truly, most of the fault for their situation rested upon her shoulders. She’d been the one to allow him into her bed. The one to act like a wicked wanton. Lord Keery remaining in her room for Henry to discover was all her fault. She could have—should have—kicked him out the moment he stumbled into her chamber, rather than welcoming him into her bed.

He’d not even been there for her—probably did not even know who she was. What was the lady’s name he’d mumbled before passing out? Sonya. Jane thought on it a moment, her pulse quickening. Lady Sonya, the late Earl of Gravestone’s widow. A true diamond of the first water with her flaxen hair, bright blue eyes, and lithe figure. Jane swallowed hard. How could she—with her dark hair, drab green eyes, and short, rounded stature—ever hope to compete with such a rival? Her lips quivered as she fought the urge to cry. What a fine mess she’d gotten herself into.

“You are a lady, Jane. The blame is all his.” Henry took her into his arms. “I am sorry this happened to you.”

Jane settled her head against his comforting chest. “Please, Henry, allow me some privacy.”

He released her and took a step back, studying her. “I would rather you not be alone at present. If you will allow Claudia to remain, I will go.”

Jane glanced to where her sister-in-law stood near the window. The warmth and understanding in her gaze gave a measure of comfort. The lady, having known more than her share of scandal, no doubt understood what Jane was feeling. Moreover, Henry would not leave her chamber unless she consented. “Very well,” Jane agreed, giving Henry a slight nod, “Claudia may remain.”

Her brother looked at his wife. “Take care of her. I will see to the countess. It would be best if this situation stayed quiet until after the wedding.”

Claudia nodded. “Do not fret, love. Jane is in safe hands.”

He dropped a kiss on Claudia’s forehead before exiting the room.

Once the door closed behind him, Jane released a huff of breath and sank onto her mattress. She wanted to scream, to cry, to throw something out of frustration, disappointment, and anger. Likewise, she wanted to laugh, to smile, to celebrate having achieved something she never thought she would—gaining a husband. Though she would not have chosen Lord Keery, even a rakehell would suit better than spinsterhood. At the very least, she would have a family of her own.

Claudia settled herself on the bed beside Jane and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Do you wish to talk?”

Jane turned her head on the feather pillow. “I know not what to say. My mind is muddled, being pulled to and fro with warring ideas.”

“Perhaps speaking them aloud will help you sort your thoughts.” Claudia gently squeezed Jane’s shoulder.

“I fear you will think me rather silly.”

“I would never think that my dear.” Claudia gave a warm smile.

With a resigned sigh, Jane sat up. What could it hurt? “I once wanted nothing more than to marry and have a family all my own. When I first made my debut, I did so with the highest hopes. After so many failed seasons, however, I had resigned myself to spinsterhood.”

“And now?” Claudia encouraged her.

Jane rose from the bed and began pacing the floor. “Now I do not know how to feel.” She reached the wall, pivoted, and started back toward the bed. “Part of me is upset, angry even, over being forced to wed. Still, another part of me is excited. It makes no sense at all.”

Claudia came to her and took her hands, stilling her. “There is nothing silly about what you are feeling. Your future changed a great deal overnight and I daresay, will change even more with the coming hours. Thus, it only makes sense you would have mixed emotions.”

Jane felt a sharp prick of guilt as she studied Claudia for a moment, taking in her warm, caring expression. She could not help but wonder if her sister-in-law would think the same if she was privy to Jane’s deception.

Maybe she should confide all her concerns. Perhaps Claudia would have valuable advice for how to proceed. On second thought, no. For how could she face her—or her brother for that matter—if she confessed her wanton behavior? She would most certainly perish of embarrassment.

“What is it, dear?” Claudia looked at her with sympathetic eyes.

Jane averted her attention to the floorboards. “Nothing.”

“The distress on your face suggests otherwise.” Claudia narrowed her eyes assessingly.

“I was merely wondering how long it will take for Lord Keery to return with the license,” Jane lied. “For I would prefer to get the ceremony over with in all due haste.”

“If Henry has his way, the pair of you will be joined under threat of violence the moment the Marquess returns.”

* * *

As Claudia had speculated, Henry demanded Lord Keery marry Jane the moment he returned with the special license. Now, she stood under a trellis of roses, dressed in the best gown she’d brought. Stars sparkled in the inky night sky and a warm breeze wrapped around her as she irreversibly joined herself to Lord Keery.

Her dear friend Sarah stood with her husband, Lord Luvington. Claudia and Henry stood beside them. Henry wore a surly expression as the clergyman conducted the ceremony, his gaze constantly flickering from her to her bridegroom. When, at last, the newlyweds were declared husband and wife, Henry allowed a slight grin.

Lord Keery dropped her hands. “We leave for London at sunrise. Be prepared.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Now that we are wed,”—he offered her a weak smile—“I give you leave to call me by my given name.”

“Which is…?

“Caleb.”

She smiled at him, though her insides were in utter turmoil. “Very well then, Caleb.”

When he turned from her to converse with Lord Luvington, she slid a sideways glance at him, her body in turmoil, nerves causing her hands to shake slightly. Would he come to her this evening? What would she do if he did? And what would she do if he did not?

His cool demeanor during and after the ceremony led her to believe he was cross with her. Not that she could blame him. Indeed, she was vexed with herself. She sighed and turned her attention to where Henry and Claudia stood.

Henry approached, taking her hands in his. “Though this is not how any of us wished for your wedding day to be, I must say, you are a vision.”

She glanced at the toes of her slippers peaking from beneath her blush-colored gown. “Thank you.”

“I do wish you happiness, Jane.”

She pulled her hands from his and glanced back at her new husband.

God willing, they would find a way past their rough beginning to have a happy union. The last thing she wished for was a marriage the likes of her parents’—one solely of convenience that left both people equally miserable. A lump formed in her throat. She’d already bound herself to a worse arrangement—one born of nothing more than scandal.