Lessons from a Scandalous Bride (Forgotten Princesses #2)(48)

Not that the prospect didn’t alarm her. She was placing herself totally in his hands, away from all that was familiar—Jack, Marguerite. Even Town had become something known.

She would be isolated from everything she knew. It was bad enough when she left her mother and siblings . . . but now she’d have no one. No one but Logan. At least until her siblings joined her. Then they’d have each other. That would have to be enough. She’d make it so.

When Logan arrived the following day, he was immediately led to the garden, where Jack Hadley sat at a small table taking his breakfast beneath a large maple tree.

He’d rather expected Cleo to be absent, but until that moment he hadn’t realized how much he longed for the sight of her. He’d only been away from her for a day, but he’d thought of little else.

Jack motioned to the vacant seat across from him. “Have you eaten?”

“Yes, thank you.” He lowered himself across from the man who went by the moniker “King of the London Underworld.” Logan had no misconception that much of his wealth had been earned through criminal and unsavory practices. It occurred to him that a little fear might be in order when dealing with the man. Only he wasn’t afraid. In his mind, fear had to do with regret. And he regretted nothing he’d done with Cleo. He’d change nothing that had happened.

Jack took a healthy bite of kipper and leveled his keen-eyed gaze on Logan, assessing for some moments before announcing, “So. You’ve compromised my daughter.”

Logan didn’t so much as blink an eye. This interview was important if he was to gain Hadley’s blessing. He did not intend to show weakness.

With his gaze trained on Hadley, he answered, “It appears so.”

Hadley chewed some more.

Logan continued. “I seek her hand.”

“She mentioned that. And why is it I should sanction such a union?”

For a moment, he considered reminding the man that her reputation was unsalvageable, but he stopped himself. That wasn’t why she should marry him. That wasn’t why he wanted to marry her.

Settling for the truth, he declared, “I want her. I wanted her before I ruined her at Hamilton’s. And the reason she’s ruined is because I can’t seem to stay away from her.”

“And not because of her fat dowry.”

He winced. “Initially, it drew me. I have responsibilities . . . a crumbling estate, siblings to provide for.” He leaned forward. “But I see your daughter. I—” he paused. “I like her. I appreciate her. More than any fop about Town ever will.”

Hadley held his stare for a long moment before slowly nodding. “You have my blessing.” He waved his fork in a small circle. “She’s in the salon with her sister. I’m sure she’ll want to see you so that you may begin making plans. I recommend a hasty wedding . . . it should help stop the worst of the gossip. Perhaps we should journey north to your home and perform the ceremony there? Once we cross the border, there will be no need for a license or posting of banns. And you’re a Scotsman, after all. No one shall think it too unseemly.”

He wouldn’t argue leaving London and returning home with Cleo sooner rather than later. “Very well,” he agreed, standing and feeling an inordinate amount of relief. He didn’t realize until that moment how anxious he’d been for Hadley’s blessing. Now nothing stood in his way from making Cleo his own. Well, nothing except the female herself.

Logan wasn’t so dense as to not realize that he still had his work ahead of him. It was going to take time to put Cleo’s long-held fears to rest. It wouldn’t happen overnight.

But once they married, they would have all the time in the world. Eventually, she’d trust him—and herself.

Then she’d be his.

Cleo was browsing through fashion plates with Annalise when Logan found them in the salon. She stood anxiously at the sight of him, struck anew with the astonishment that she had agreed to marry this man.

He stood tall and handsome, his body strong and lean. He was beyond beautiful. Beyond anything she had let herself dream for herself. Somehow she thought she could control this situation . . . control him. She admitted this to herself with not a small dose of shame.

Annalise cleared her throat softly, and Cleo remembered her presence. She moved back and guided Annalise forward by the elbow. “Lord McKinney, allow me to introduce my sister, Miss Annalise Hadley.”

Annalise blinked those large brown eyes, clearly unaccustomed to the surname in reference to herself. She’d get used to it.

“Miss Hadley.” He bowed slightly, ever courteous even with surprise reflected in his gray eyes. He’d met Marguerite, and he knew about Grier, but, of course, he’d never heard of a third sister.

Annalise performed a clumsy curtsy, her plump frame wobbling. “Please call me Annalise.” She looked quickly at Cleo, verifying if this was acceptable.

The inquiry in her sister’s gaze brought back the question of how Logan’s conversation had fared with Jack. Whether Annalise and he adopted the use of each other’s Christian names largely depended on whether he was about to become her brother-in-law.

Logan leveled his gaze on her. “Jack recommended that we wed in Scotland.”

A breath of relief escaped her, followed fast with panic. I’m really going to marry this man.

He continued, “I suggest we leave tomorrow.”