Chapter 2 #3
“Hannah?” It was a woman’s voice calling her name outside. Della’s, she thought. This in itself wouldn’t have been so bad (she had known they must face one another again eventually), except that it was immediately followed by another.
“Hannah, where are you?”
Mama. Was her time already up? She wasn’t ready!
Hannah motioned frantically at Mr. Corbyn. “Close the door! Quick!”
Though he shot her a dubious look, he obeyed. “May I ask who you’re hiding from?”
“My mother,” she replied. “She’ll have my hide if she catches me here.”
“You aren’t meant to be at the club tonight?
” It was a little unexpected to see Mr. Corbyn caught off his guard.
He looked so commanding, with that stern manner and the scar that snaked over his chin, as if he should be ready for any danger.
But this had surprised him. “What were you doing at my table, then?”
“Playing cards.”
“Don’t joke. Is this some sort of adolescent rebellion? Is that why you were trying to throw away your money earlier? I still have your chips, by the way. I can’t cash them out for myself or they’ll think I’m stealing from the pot, so you’d best come back and get them.”
“It’s not an ‘adolescent rebellion’ because I’m not an adolescent,” Hannah shot back. He was making her sound like a silly schoolgirl. “You don’t understand the situation I’m in. My mother wants to marry me off to the first man who’ll have me, and I have to stop her.”
“Hmm.” Mr. Corbyn shook his head, his judgment obvious.
“So you’re angry at your mum because she wants to find you some rich bloke to keep you comfortable for the rest of your life, and you’ve decided the best response is to sneak in here and leave sixty pounds on the table? That makes perfect sense.”
I knew he wouldn’t understand.
“Don’t belittle me.” Had she been intimidated by Mr. Corbyn’s good looks before?
His shine was quickly wearing off. She wasn’t even sure he resembled Poseidon anymore.
It had been ages since she’d looked at that drawing; her memory must have faded.
“You have no idea what it’s like to have your parents decide everything for you.
To treat you like you aren’t allowed to have an opinion on your own life. ”
“Actually, I do,” he replied coldly. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“Oh.” This gave Hannah pause, but she didn’t have time to consider what he might mean.
“Then you should be able to show me a little more understanding,” she continued.
“I’m going to have to share a life with this man, share children with him, share a—share a bed with him.
” She flushed at this, but no one else was here to hear them.
She was too desperate to waste time on niceties. “I can’t abide by it.”
Mr. Corbyn assessed her with a cool glance. “Very well. You’ve made your point. But you can’t hide forever.”
“You could help me,” Hannah said eagerly. The glimmer of sympathy in his eye wasn’t much to bet her future on, but it might be enough. “Save me from her plans.”
It was a reckless idea, and not one that she would have chosen for herself if she had a better option, but needs must.
“How do you expect me to do that? Shall I hoist you out the window? It’s a drop to the ground and I don’t want your brother after me when you break your ankle.”
“Hannah!” The voices were much nearer now. They must be in the main game room just beyond the door. She didn’t have much time before they found her.
And she was already alone in a closed room with a man Della had recently condemned for his reputation-ruining power. They were as good as halfway there, really. What was one more push?
“I want you to kiss me,” she said in a rushed whisper.
“What?” Mr. Corbyn jerked back as if burned.
What a nice reaction for me. Very flattering.
“It doesn’t have to be any more than that. I just need to borrow your lips for a few seconds until they come in and see us. A minute at the absolute most.”
It was perfect. There was no possibility that her mother would force her to marry a disgraced midshipman with a dealer’s income, which made him the ideal candidate to compromise her without any risk of being tied together forever.
Mama would have no choice but to give up on her plans for the season and let Hannah go back home.
Papa would welcome them with open arms, and this whole interlude would be like an unpleasant dream.
“Your brother will flay me alive!” Mr. Corbyn said sharply. “I need this job.”
“How much is he paying you?”
“Pardon?”
“I’ll give you the sixty pounds I won,” Hannah offered. “All of it, just for one little kiss. Doesn’t that sound like a generous bargain?”
Mr. Corbyn didn’t have a quick response to that. His mouth hung open as he struggled to find words.
Footsteps sounded just outside the door. There was no time left for debate; they’d already been found out. If she didn’t take her chance now, she would regret it forever.
“I’m terribly sorry!” Hannah cried. Then she launched herself at Mr. Corbyn and smashed their lips together in what she hoped resembled a passionate embrace.