It was true.
He’d never attempted to kiss an unmarried young lady before. It was beyond the pale. They all knew it.
Only libertines seduced unmarried innocents.
Every gentleman worth his salt would never attempt such a thing. Not unless he meant to marry her. And he hadn’t meant to marry her when he kissed her. Or had he? The thought flashed through his head like a blinding light.
“I will marry her,” Peter said firmly.
“You bloody well better,” Edmund said, straightening.
“I’m going to have to,” Peter retorted. “Half of London will know what’s happened.”
He swung his gaze back up towards the house.
As if his statement was calling the truth, he spotted several faces peering out from the windows. No doubt drunk on the imminent scandal and eager to lap up every detail.
It was a damned coil. Something that never should have happened. He had not planned on marrying. But here he was, and he was going to marry Ophelia.
“I always wished you were my brother,” Edmund rasped. “But not like this. Never like this.”
“I’m sorry,” Peter said honestly.
Edmund’s eyes narrowed. “There’s only one apology. Make my sister happy. If you even can.”
Could he make her happy? He doubted it. No wonder Edmund was so furious. He doubted it too.
And Peter hated the fact that he was about to drag Ophelia into a state that his own mother and father had been so miserable in.
Surely, he was about to repeat history, something he had been determined to avoid. But there was nothing avoidable in this.
“I’m going to go after her now,” Peter declared. “She must be very upset.”
“Don’t you dare,” Edmund said. “You’ll only cause more scandal. I’ll go after—”
“If anyone is going after her, it is me. I won’t let you near her now. You’re furious,” Peter countered.
Edmund snorted. “Oh, so you’re protecting her now.”
“Yes, if she’s going to be my wife. She’s mine to protect,” Peter growled.
Edmund blinked, stunned. “You care about her.”
Peter said nothing but swung his gaze in the direction Ophelia had run to.
His heart ached at his horrific, selfish mistake. She’d just wanted him to teach her how to use her fan.
It was too late now. No going back.
Except for the fact she had said, he realized, she wouldnotmarry him. Surely, she did not mean that. That would be a foolish thing to do indeed.
“She won’t actually refuse to marry me. Will she?” Peter asked in a whisper.
Edmund sighed. “She bloody well better not. Otherwise, the whole family is ruined. The gossips will have this like a dog with a bone.”
Peter’s gut tightened at the idea that he could have damaged his friend so thoroughly. “But surely your family is secure enough—”
“Don’t be a fool,” Edmund cut in. “You know that the ton can’t resist this sort of thing. Even people who say they are my friends. If Ophelia does not marry you, the scandal will hound us. We are not so wealthy or as powerful as you.”