“That I know to be untrue!” Pen said. “If your sister thinks it, she doesn’t know you. And I am not talking nonsense. Piers was shocked to find me with you, and you did think he had reason, or you would not have said what you did.”
“Oh yes!” he responded. “I am well aware of what the world would think of this escapade, but, believe me, my little love, I don’t offer marriage from motives of chivalry. To be plain with you, I started on this adventure because I was drunk, and because I was bored, and because I thought I had to do something which was distasteful to me. I stayed in it because I found myself enjoying it as I have not enjoyed anything for years.”
“You did not enjoy the stage-coach,” she reminded him.
“No, but we need not make a practice of travelling by the stage-coach, need we?” he said, smiling down at her. “Briefly, Pen, when I met you I was about to contract a marriage of convenience. Within twelve hours of making your acquaintance, I knew that no matter what might happen, I would not contract that marriage. Within twenty-four hours, my dear, I knew that I had found what I had come to believe did not exist’
“What was that?” she asked shyly.
His smile was a little twisted. “A woman—no, a chit of a girl! An impertinent, atrocious, audacious brat—whom I am very sure I cannot live without.”
“Oh!” said Pen, blushing furiously. “How kind of you to say that to me! I know just why you do, and indeed I am very grateful to you for putting it so prettily!”
“And you don’t believe a word of it!”
“No, for I am very sure you would not have thought of marrying me if Piers had not been in love with Lydia Daubenay,” she said simply. “You are sorry for me, because of that, and so—”
“Not in the least.”