afoot to force him to marry you. You must not answer to any of that, no matter how many times he should repeat it. Lord knows his conduct is such he will try to wriggle free of the consequences.
"Just remember, that whatever the reason was for you and him to be locked in the cellar, the result of it is that you spent the night together—and that's that. He has already agreed to propose marriage to you, as he is honor bound to do so. Simply say yes—no explanations on your part are necessary."
Belinda nodded absently, feeling her body numbing at the fearful meeting with Lord Berrington that was fast approaching.
"You must be firm, though, and remember your parents," pressed Mrs. Presleigh, "for you are doing this for us. You have only to say yes when he proposes to you, that is all."
"Are you listening to me, Belinda?" added Mrs. Presleigh when Belinda said nothing.
"Yes, Mama, I am listening."
"I often wonder if you are listening, you know. You must not act thus with Lord Berrington, for it is very irritating to be constantly wresting words from you."
"You hold your parents' future in your hands," her mother added at the door, looking deep into her eyes. "You will remember that?"
"Yes."
"Well, then, go on now to the library."
* * * * *
"Come in," Lord Berrington said to the soft knock at the library door. And when Belinda merely opened it a crack, he went up and opened the door wide, allowing her inside. He then closed the door and went to stand by the window.
Uncertain at what to do, Belinda waited in the middle of the large library awaiting a sign from him. Should she sit down?
Lord Berrington turned back from the window and came to stand before her.
"Please sit down, Miss Presleigh," he said, and when she was seated he sat on a chair immediately before her.
For a few moments he said nothing, while Belinda waited with arrested breath, her eyes unable to meet his.
"We find ourselves in a highly unusual situation, Miss Presleigh," he began. "I am sure it is as uncomfortable to you as it is to me. I have spoken to your father and he has given me leave to address you." He waited for any reaction to his words.
"Yes," she finally said.
"Before I continue, though," he went on, "I must know for certain that you have not been coerced into a decision; that is, that whichever answer you give me is given of your own free will."
"Yes," she said in the pause that followed.
"The answer you give will be of your own free will?"
Belinda looked into his eyes and winced. She was a stranger to him still, and as such was he thus gazing at her. Yet for six years he had not been a stranger to her.
For a few moments there was unbearable suspense and she could see that he hoped against hope she would decline his offer—an offer he was being forced to make.
Still gazing at her as one gazes at a stranger, Lord Berrington sighed and then said in an almost lifeless voice:
"Miss Presleigh, will you do me the honor of accepting my offer of marriage?"
There was a long silence while Lord Berrington waited for her to answer.
Belinda did not think of her mother and her obsession with social status. She did not think of the scandal whirling about them. She thought of none of these things, for everything outside of this room where she was with Berrington disappeared, was blacked out as with a sudden inky night. She saw instead the barren years that lay ahead for her, and a realization of the love that she had for this man, this man who viewed her as a stranger, hit her full force. She would always love him, she was certain of it. She was not the kind of person, she knew, who could accommodate several loves in a lifetime. To her only Berrington existed. After him no one else would.
She knew she was unable to resist the offer of being connected to him in name for the rest of her life. He might choose to live apart from her, yet she would always have a connection to him. The alternative was that she would never again
"Just remember, that whatever the reason was for you and him to be locked in the cellar, the result of it is that you spent the night together—and that's that. He has already agreed to propose marriage to you, as he is honor bound to do so. Simply say yes—no explanations on your part are necessary."
Belinda nodded absently, feeling her body numbing at the fearful meeting with Lord Berrington that was fast approaching.
"You must be firm, though, and remember your parents," pressed Mrs. Presleigh, "for you are doing this for us. You have only to say yes when he proposes to you, that is all."
"Are you listening to me, Belinda?" added Mrs. Presleigh when Belinda said nothing.
"Yes, Mama, I am listening."
"I often wonder if you are listening, you know. You must not act thus with Lord Berrington, for it is very irritating to be constantly wresting words from you."
"You hold your parents' future in your hands," her mother added at the door, looking deep into her eyes. "You will remember that?"
"Yes."
"Well, then, go on now to the library."
* * * * *
"Come in," Lord Berrington said to the soft knock at the library door. And when Belinda merely opened it a crack, he went up and opened the door wide, allowing her inside. He then closed the door and went to stand by the window.
Uncertain at what to do, Belinda waited in the middle of the large library awaiting a sign from him. Should she sit down?
Lord Berrington turned back from the window and came to stand before her.
"Please sit down, Miss Presleigh," he said, and when she was seated he sat on a chair immediately before her.
For a few moments he said nothing, while Belinda waited with arrested breath, her eyes unable to meet his.
"We find ourselves in a highly unusual situation, Miss Presleigh," he began. "I am sure it is as uncomfortable to you as it is to me. I have spoken to your father and he has given me leave to address you." He waited for any reaction to his words.
"Yes," she finally said.
"Before I continue, though," he went on, "I must know for certain that you have not been coerced into a decision; that is, that whichever answer you give me is given of your own free will."
"Yes," she said in the pause that followed.
"The answer you give will be of your own free will?"
Belinda looked into his eyes and winced. She was a stranger to him still, and as such was he thus gazing at her. Yet for six years he had not been a stranger to her.
For a few moments there was unbearable suspense and she could see that he hoped against hope she would decline his offer—an offer he was being forced to make.
Still gazing at her as one gazes at a stranger, Lord Berrington sighed and then said in an almost lifeless voice:
"Miss Presleigh, will you do me the honor of accepting my offer of marriage?"
There was a long silence while Lord Berrington waited for her to answer.
Belinda did not think of her mother and her obsession with social status. She did not think of the scandal whirling about them. She thought of none of these things, for everything outside of this room where she was with Berrington disappeared, was blacked out as with a sudden inky night. She saw instead the barren years that lay ahead for her, and a realization of the love that she had for this man, this man who viewed her as a stranger, hit her full force. She would always love him, she was certain of it. She was not the kind of person, she knew, who could accommodate several loves in a lifetime. To her only Berrington existed. After him no one else would.
She knew she was unable to resist the offer of being connected to him in name for the rest of her life. He might choose to live apart from her, yet she would always have a connection to him. The alternative was that she would never again
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