Chapter Twenty-Three #2
Arden waited for surprise to hit him—Garlin’s most eligible Luster miss in love with a Lack servant. It would be the scandal of the century if anyone found out. Arden should be shocked, but he wasn’t. Instead, it felt like a piece of the puzzle that was Oriana Mayles sliding into place.
“We were supposed to run away together three years ago—to Strall,” she whispered. “I was supposed to meet him at the train station, but he never showed up. Something must have happened, but I don’t know what.”
“He was a cad, then.” As soon as the words were out of Arden’s mouth, Oriana’s eyes sharpened into a glare.
“No,” she said, the word hard. “No, there’s some other explanation, I just don’t know what it is.”
Arden didn’t want to shatter her illusions, but he knew that if Jonas truly loved her, nothing would have kept him away this long. At best, the man was a coward; at worst, he’d betrayed her from the start. He didn’t say as much to Oriana, but she seemed to sense his skepticism all the same.
She bit her lip, glancing down at her half-eaten ice cream.
“You must think I’m a fool who can’t see the truth, but I know him.
I love him. And I know that wherever he is, whatever happened to him, he loves me too.
That’s why I started writing books in the first place—I just .
. . I wanted to tell hopeless stories with happy endings. ”
She’d certainly succeeded in that. Arden swallowed his doubt and managed a smile, trying to sound convincing. “Of course.”
Oriana nodded. “But that’s why I can’t marry you, Arden. I’m sorry.”
“I understand.” And he did, though it made things far more complicated for him to reach his own aims. But maybe it didn’t—maybe there was still a way she could get the freedom she wanted and he could convince his aunt to name him her heir.
“You’ve trusted me with your secret, and I’ll give you one of mine in turn—my pursuit of you is not only to mollify my aunt’s whims. She’s made it a condition of her will, that I will only become her heir if you agree to marry me before she dies. ”
Oriana frowned. “That’s terribly cruel.”
Despite everything, Arden felt the urge to defend his aunt. “She believes it’s for the best. But I’m sure you’ve heard the gossip—I am not in a position to refuse her demand no matter what her intentions are.”
The way Oriana’s lips thinned confirmed she had, in fact, heard the gossip.
“So my proposal is this.” He straightened up. “We tell her and everyone else that we’re engaged. We sign the papers, make everything official, and my aunt dies happy, believing the Ryskamp line is secure for another generation—”
“And you become a rich man again,” Oriana interrupted.
Arden tried to ignore the shame that coursed through him. “That too,” he acknowledged. “But whether you believe it or not, I would like my aunt to be at peace when she leaves this world, and this is what she’s decided will bring her that peace.”
Oriana still looked uncertain, but he continued.
“Then we return to Strall, together, letting everyone believe we’ll marry there. We’ll enjoy a very, very long engagement, during which time I will put you in touch with the best private investigators in the country to help you find Jonas.”
Surprise flared in Oriana’s eyes. “You will?”
Arden nodded. In truth, he doubted the search would end happily, but he would assist her all the same. “When you find him, I will break off our engagement and shoulder the scandal while you ride off into the sunset with your beau. We’ll part as friends, and you will always have my gratitude.”
Oriana considered his offer as she finished the last few bites of her ice cream. “Is there anything else to this plan of yours?”
Arden blinked—he hadn’t actually expected her to agree. In his mind, it was a final desperate attempt, and not a particularly artful one at that. But then, Mavis said he was a terrible liar—maybe his mistake was in not telling Oriana the truth earlier.
Mavis. The thought of her sent a pang of regret through him.
If Oriana did agree, their tryst would be over.
It didn’t matter that the betrothal would be in name only; he would honor it as if it were real.
He cleared his throat, focusing on Oriana.
There was more to his plan—he’d promised Mavis the two million solas of Oriana’s dowry, and if they never married, he wouldn’t get that.
But, he reasoned, if his aunt named him her heir, he would inherit far more than that.
Oh, two million would be a large part of his inheritance, but he would pay it all the same. Everyone could get what they wanted.
Except Arden—he might be a wealthy man again, but he wasn’t getting what he wanted at all.
“No, there’s nothing else.” To his relief, he sounded more sure than he felt.
Oriana pursed her lips. “I’ll consider it.
” She placed her spoon back in the empty bowl and got to her feet, smoothing her hands over her skirt.
Arden hastened to join her, but she waved him away.
“Stay and finish your ice cream, I need some time alone to think this over. I’ll send word when I decide. ”
With that, she left the ice cream parlor, and Arden let out a sigh of relief. Not, he thought, relief that she was considering it, but at the fact he was not an engaged man yet.
He finished the last bites of his ice cream and left a handful of solas on the table to cover the bill before striding out of the shop and making his way directly to the Abalone.