The Reluctant Widow

by Georgette Heyer

‘I must not listen to you!’ Elinor said, much shaken. ‘Oh, it is the most ridiculous thing! You only met me a week ago, and then you constrained me to marry your horrid cousin!’ ‘It is a fortunate thing that I did not know you better, for if I had I should certainly never have done so.’ She uttered a laugh that broke in the middle. ‘Odious, odious man!’ ‘I depend on you to teach me to be less odious. I shall be very happy to learn of you.’

Elinor gathered her forces together. ‘Lord Carlyon!’ she began. He interrupted. ‘Do you know, it has of late become an ambition of mine to hear my name on your lips instead of my title?’

‘You are talking a great deal of nonsense, and you will thank me one day for not attending to you!’ said Elinor, in a scolding tone. ‘Now you are being uncivil,’ he said imperturbably. ‘I shall have to teach you how to reply to a declaration with more propriety, my little love.’

‘Oh, my lord, how can I help believing that you have made me this offer because of some nonsense I have talked – the merest raillery! – of your having ruined all my prospects?’ Carlyon moved, and firmly pulled the agitated widow into his arms. ‘You know, I never thought you could be such a simpleton!’ he said, and kissed her.