Tempt Me at Twilight (The Hathaways #3)(24)

A difficult silence followed the request. Cam stared at the young man with an unfathomable expression, while Amelia gave a slight shake of her head as if to deny what was coming.

“I’m afraid that would not be proper, Mr. Bayning,” Miss Marks murmured. “We have Miss Hathaway’s reputation to consider.”

“Of course.” He passed a hand over his forehead, and Poppy realized that his fingers were trembling.

Something was very wrong indeed.

An icy calm settled over her. She spoke in a dazed voice that didn’t sound quite like her own. “Amelia, perhaps you might stay in the room with us?”

“Yes, of course.”

The rest of the family, including Miss Marks, left the room.

Poppy felt cold runnels of perspiration beneath her chemise, damp patches blossoming at the pits of her arms. She took a place on the settee and watched Michael with dilated eyes. “You may have a seat,” she told him.

He hesitated and glanced at Amelia, who had gone to stand beside the window.

“Please do have a seat, Mr. Bayning,” Amelia said, staring at the street outside. “I’m trying to pretend I’m not here. I’m so sorry you can’t have more privacy than this, but I’m afraid Miss Marks is right. Poppy’s reputation must be protected.”

Although there was no trace of rebuke in her tone, Michael flinched visibly. Occupying the space next to Poppy, he took her hands and bent his head over them. His fingers were even colder than hers. “I had an unholy row with my father last night,” he said, his voice muffled. “It seems one of the rumors reached him about my interest in you. About my intentions. He was . . . outraged.”

“That must have been dreadful,” Poppy said, knowing that Michael rarely, if ever, quarreled with his father. He held the viscount in awe, striving always to please him.

“Worse than dreadful.” Michael took an unsteady breath. “I’ll spare you the particulars. The result of a long, very ugly argument is that the viscount gave me an ultimatum. If I marry you, I will be cut off. He will no longer recognize me as his son, and I will be disinherited.”

There was no sound in the room except for Amelia’s swiftly indrawn breath.

Pain unfolded in Poppy’s chest, crowding the breath from her lungs. “What reason did he give?” she managed to ask.

“Only that you do not fit the mold of a Bayning bride.”

“If you allow time for his temper to cool . . . try to change his mind . . . I can wait, Michael. I’ll wait forever.”

Michael shook his head. “I cannot encourage you to wait. My father’s refusal was absolute. It could take years to change his mind, if ever. And in the meantime, you deserve the chance to find happiness.”

Poppy stared at him steadily. “I could only be happy with you.”

Michael raised his head, his eyes dark and glittering. “I’m sorry, Poppy. Sorry for giving you any reason to hope, when it was never possible. My only excuse is that I thought I knew my father, when apparently I don’t. I always believed I could convince him to accept the woman I loved, that my judgment would be enough. And I—” His voice cracked. He swallowed audibly. “I do love you. I . . . hell and damnation, I’ll never forgive him for this.” Releasing her hands, he reached into his coat pocket and extracted a packet of letters tied with cord. All the letters she had written to him. “I’m honor bound to return these.”

“I won’t give yours back,” Poppy said, taking the letters in a shaking hand. “I want to keep them.”

“That is your right, of course.”

“Michael,” Poppy said brokenly, “I love you.”

“I . . . I can’t give you any reason to hope.”

They were both quiet and trembling, staring at each other in despair.

Amelia’s voice pierced through the suffocating silence. She sounded blessedly rational. “The viscount’s objections needn’t stop you, Mr. Bayning. He can’t prevent you from inheriting the title and entailed properties, can he?”

“No, but—”

“Take my sister to Gretna Green. We’ll provide the carriage. My sister’s dowry is large enough to secure a handsome annuity for you both. If you need more, my husband will increase it.” Amelia leveled a steady, challenging gaze at him. “If you want my sister, Mr. Bayning, marry her. The Hathaways will help you weather what storms may come.”

Poppy had never loved her sister more than she did at that moment. She stared at Amelia with a wobbly smile, her eyes brimming.

Her smile vanished, however, as Michael answered dully. “The title and real estate are entailed, but until my father dies, I would be abandoned to my own resources, which are nonexistent. And I can’t live off the charity of my wife’s family.”

“It’s not charity when it’s family,” Amelia countered.

“You don’t understand how things are with the Baynings,” Michael said. “This is a matter of honor. I’m the only son. I’ve been raised for one thing since I was born—to assume the responsibilities of my rank and title. It’s all I’ve ever known. I can’t live as an outcast, outside my father’s sphere. I can’t live with scandal and ostracism.” He hung his head. “Sweet God, I’m weary of arguing. My brain’s gone in circles all night.”