Chapter Two

Monty watched with interest as Lady Delaney stared at him, with absolutely no change in her expression. If he had not caught her reading with such obvious interest, there would be no way he would have believed that she was not stupid. 

Even now, he was wondering if it had been his imagination, or at least he would have if she’d not asked him in a quiet steady tone if she was going to tell anyone. And now he’d offered to tell her a secret. He cataloged them in his mind. Which one should he tell her? That he’d never had a mistress in his life? That all the girls that he ‘targeted were happily living under different names that were untouched by the scandals that had destroyed their real names? Or should he tell her that he was never really drunk? That he was rather an idiot, but he gained amusement out of fooling the public?
Then to his surprise, she shook her head the slightest bit. “I,” she paused a moment, “I would prefer you not tell me your secrets for such a foolish reason,” she used the same gentle tone she had a moment earlier, a tone very dissimilar to the one she was known for using, the one that was absent and more of a mumble than an actual form of words.

He did not answer at first, just watching her, wondering what went on behind her empty demeanor.

“Is knowing that you’re not stupid a foolish reason?” he questioned gently, “because I have the impression that you guard that secret very well.”
The natural pink in her cheeks darkened the slightest bit but her expression did not. He studied her while he waited for her answer, wondering why the public insisted on focusing so firmly on her lack of wit, instead of on her extraordinary beauty, because she was very beautiful. 

He had noticed her often in the ballrooms, dancing with gentlemen, although he’d not tried to be introduced to her. Being acquainted with the Duke of Montague did not often help young ladies' reputations. She carried herself with grace despite her penchant for clumsiness that he suspected now was an act. Her eyes looked at him steadily, eyes of a color he had not seen on anyone before, and doubted he’d ever see again. They were the same shade as the fields of lavender that grew in the countryside.

She spoke, startling him a little, as he realized he’d been staring rather rudely. “It is a secret,” she admitted quietly, “but it feels,” she hesitated a moment as if considering her words, “impolite to force you to tell me something. It was entirely my fault that you found out about my secret anyway.”

He felt a smile begin to play at the corners of his mouth despite himself. “Very well. I won’t tell you my secrets unless you ask, but I’m going to be rather rude and ask why a lady with a good reputation is sitting alone in the library. That is, you realize a quick way to destroy your reputation.”
For the first time, her eyes avoided his, as they slipped away to stare at something behind his shoulder. “I do not know why,” she said quietly. She glanced down at her hands and then looked up at him again. “I had wondered,” she added gently, “if my Papa had something to do with you being here?”
Monty blinked in shock. “Lord Terraton? Have something to do with me? Your father would never be seen with someone of my reputation, even if I am of higher standing than him.”
The blush in her cheeks deepened a bit more. “He’s friends with Lord Ratham,” her tone was quieter.
Monty raised an eyebrow. “How did he become friends with him? Lord Ratham’s reputation really isn’t much better than mine,” he added bluntly.

She fidgeted with her sleeve, her eyes avoiding his again. “I-I think,” she bit her lip and shifted a bit, “because Lord Ratham is very weak, so Papa can get him to do what he likes,” she explained.

His other eyebrow joined the first, his surprise growing. “Your father? Controlling? He’s well known for being pleasant and often a bit weak himself.”
She did not meet his eyes, just nodded her head and answered with a whispered, “I know.”
Monty frowned a bit, puzzled. “So, your father knows you are in here?” he asked.

Her eyes flew to his, as if she had not realized that she’d told him that, but she shrugged slightly, not giving him a response. 

Instead, she spoke, her tone still steady, but quiet. “If Papa did not send you, could you please leave? He would be very angry to find you here?”
Monty’s frown deepened. The reputation of Lord Terraton did not involve any amounts of anger, but Lady Delaney seemed sincere. It puzzled him.

He considered her for another long moment, his frown deepening more. “You do realize you’re putting me in a very difficult position,” he commented.

She looked at him, the slightest hint of surprise in her expression, so he attempted to explain. “If I’m a gentleman and I leave you here? Who else will come in here? I may have a terrible reputation,” he smirked a tiny bit, “but I can tell you on, well on the honor that no one believes I have that I would never hurt anyone in a vulnerable position. But if I leave, I’m not really being a gentleman, am I? I’m just leaving you here for someone else to find.”
She studied him for a long time, and the tiniest hint of a twinkle appeared in her eyes. “I see.”
Monty found himself avoiding her eyes suddenly, feeling as if she saw far more of him than he wanted her too.

“So, what are we to do?” She asked in her gentle voice.

Monty thought it over and then looked at her again. “I could just walk you back to the ballroom and you could join your brother, who I assume is hiding behind a statue or a plant like he always is, or” he paused, a grin starting to spread across his face, “I could just stay here and marry you.”
His lips clamped shut and he felt his ears redden. “Now that wasn’t very proper.”
She didn’t smile, but her eyes danced a little. “I’ll accept the first option,” she said quietly.