Eloisa James - Born to Be Wilde

The book is dedicated to my brother-in-law Sunil,

whose courage in the face of cancer is truly heroic.

Lindow Castle, Cheshire

Country seat of the Duke of Lindow

June 4, 1780

Miss Lavinia Gray considered herself reasonably brave. In her twenty-one years, she had been presented to both an English and a French queen without losing her composure. She had squeaked, but not screamed, after a close encounter with an exceedingly large bear. Perhaps bear was an exaggeration. One could call it a dog, but only if a dog had huge bearlike fangs and lunged from the shadows.

Screaming would not have been uncalled for.

There was also the time she had waded into a lake rumored to be inhabited by leeches. She had shuddered but soldiered on every time something soft bumped her legs.

But this?

Hovering in the corridor outside a gentlemans bedchamber?

This was a whole new level of uneasiness. Shed prefer to swim in a leechy lake up to her neck than knock on the door before her.

The ironic thing was that shed soothed many a young gentleman who had fallen to his knees to offer marriage, although now she realized she should have been even kinder. Drumming up ones nerve to propose was terrifying.

Thats what she was about to do.

Propose.

A silent shriek went through her head. How in heavens name have I come to this?

She shook off the unhelpful thought and tried to muster her courage. Generally speaking, she found dresses to be a formidable suit of armor, useful in marshaling courage, but even one of her best Parisian gowns wasnt helping. Champagne-tinted silk clung to her figure and then opened into frothy ruffles at the hem; modest padding at the hips emphasized the swell of her breasts and made her waist look smaller.

Ordinarily, she would have felt invulnerable in it, but at the moment, she felt only self-conscious dread.

The problem was that Parth Sterling had never shown any sign of being attracted to her figureor any other part of her, for that matter. Just last night he had entered the drawing room, nodded to her, and promptly moved to the other side of the room.

After not seeing her for two years.

Bring on the leechy lake.

You have no choice, her cousin Diana had fiercely insisted, not ten minutes ago. You must marry Parth. Hes the only one who can save your mother.

Lavinia took a deep breath, forcing herself to stand still and not dash down the corridor. Hands fisted at her sides, she firmed her lips and took a step closer to the door. Her mother, Lady Gray, needed to be saved, and an ordinary, garden-variety gentleman wasnt going to do it.

She needed Parth, not only because he was the richest bachelor in the kingdom, but because hewell, he got things done.

He fixed things.

Problems of all sorts.

The thought stiffened her backbone, and before she could stop herself again, she knocked. And waited.

A swooning sense of relief came over her when no one opened the door.

She would return to Diana and report that Parth Sterling unaccountably hadnt been in his chamber waiting for a marriage proposal.

He was

He was standing in the open doorway, staring at her there in the dark corridor.

Lavinia?

She managed a wavering smile. Hello!

Jesus, he barked, and then looked both ways. What in the hell are you doing out here?

Before she could answer, he grabbed her by the elbow, pulled her inside, and slammed the door.

Earlier, talking to Diana, it had all made sense, in a cracked sort of way: Parth was rich, Parth was unmarried, and Parth was a problem solver.

But faced with Parth? Who was taller than most men, broader in his chest, with thick hair, skin like warm bronze, dark eyes... and that beard! Unlike the other gentlemen of her acquaintance, he wore a close-trimmed beard that made him look as if he belonged in a Shakespeare play, or the court of Henry VIII.

He looked like a king.

I find myself in a predicament, Lavinia said, the words tripping over each other. Well, more than a predicament, a problem. Yes, problem is the right word for it. Usually she had no trouble speaking, but now it felt as if sentences were knocking about in her head.

It must be an appalling sort of problem, to bring you to my door. His voice wasnt chilly, precisely, but she caught a distinct ironic edge.

Oh, God, her sins were coming home to roost.

I used to call you Appalling Parth, she said, clearing her throat. It was merely in jest, and I apologize.

To be sure, a jest, he agreed, his voice indifferent. Whatever the case, why are you here, Miss Gray?

You used to call me Lavinia. In fact, you did seconds ago.

Seconds ago I was shocked to find a lady standing at my bedchamber door. It seems we were both guilty of a lapse in decorum.

Well, that was blunt. Lavinia twisted her fingers together, trying to work out how to broach the subject of marriage. This was a disaster. She ought to leave. She told herself to leave, quite firmly. Her feet remained rooted to the carpet.

Parth raised a brow. Well? he said, when she had apparently stood in silence too long. What can I do for you, Miss Gray?

Before she thought twice, her eyes flew to his. Yes, she had teased him. But she didnt believe he hated her.

Lavinia, he corrected, his eyes softening. That was graceless of me, because you are clearly in extremis. What can I do to help?

The humiliating thing was that the mere sight of him made her heart pound. Never mind that he was monstrously arrogant and would make a terrible husband. From the moment shed first seen him, two summers before, hed done something to her. He aggravated her. He infuriated her. He intrigued her. She hated that the most because he had made it clear from the first time he saw her that he considered her trivial, silly, and intellectually inferior.

Why in Gods name had she allowed Diana to talk her into this?

She cleared her throat. I was wondering if you had made any plans for marriage.

He froze.

Because, Lavinia said, propelled forward by the terrible narrative that she and Diana had devised. I am... I am...

She couldnt do it.

She tried again. Its just that I thought

Are you offering to marry me? His voice rasped. Bloody hell, Laviniaare you proposing marriage?

Something like that, she admitted.

She had imagined surprise, or blunt rejection. She had not imagined... pity.

But she saw pity in his dark eyes, and a wave of humiliation made her stomach cramp. Instinctively she swung her gaze away and caught sight of the two of them in a looking glass hanging on the wall.

Lavinia looked the same as she had two hours ago, before her mother revealed the truth about their finances. Her thick hair was the color of new guineas; her blue eyes were framed by lavish eyelashes that she darkened religiously. A buxom figure and lips that she didnt bother to color because her looks already skirted the edge of respectability.

That showed just how deceiving an appearance could be.

She was no longer the Lavinia of two hours ago. For one thing, she was no longer respectable. A hysterical giggle rose in her chest at the thought. Miss Lavinia Gray, daughter of Lady Gray, an heiress who had been wooed on both sides of the Channel, was no longer

Respectable.

Or an heiress.

Still desirable, perhaps, but poor. Worse than poor.

Her eyes moved to Parth again, and it struck her that he wasnt wearing a coat, just a white linen shirt, and hed rolled up his sleeves, revealing powerful arms. No wig, no coat. She looked down. No boots.

We arent from the same world, he said, catching her thought but not understanding it. You dont want to marry me, Lavinia. I cant imagine why you got that in your head.