A flush crested his cheeks, but his eyes remained hard. “My father was bankrupt when I was a boy, you know. Being poor is a tedious business. I intend to avoid it at all costs. And I’ve three younger sisters who, unlike you, pray for the safety of marriage.”

Lottie’s chest pinched with guilt. All her life she had enjoyed a certain amount of freedom others would die for. Yet she saw only barriers, not the walls that shielded her from the worst consequences of her own behavior. And all thanks to a fortune she had done nothing to earn. “Let me sponsor them, then. If you give up this plan now, I will finance a season for each one.”

He uttered a dark laugh. “What good would that do from a ruined woman? If you are so moved to help them, you would do much better as their sister-in-law.”

Lottie crossed her arms. “It won’t matter anyway. No clergyman in the world would agree to this!”

“You’re right,” he said coolly. “That means you have a choice to make.”

The certainty in his voice set her even more on edge. “What choice?”

“You can marry me, or you can be institutionalized.”

Lottie’s mouth dropped open. “You wouldn’t.”

“There are many women who have done far less than you—and paid for it for the rest of their lives.”

Lottie couldn’t hold back her shudder. He was only trying to scare her. “Uncle Alfred would never agree to that.” Maybe in his most desperate moment he would have considered such a threat, but certainly not now. She would rather take that chance than willingly submit to this man for the rest of her life.

Mr. Wetherby took a step closer. His blue eyes practically glowed with malice. “I can persuade him. Believe me. And I know my aunt would be happy to testify to your reprehensible behavior.”

“Not if I ended up in an asylum!”

His eyes narrowed. “Are you willing to test that theory?”

Lottie was silent as her heart pounded in her ears.

Mr. Wetherby shook his head. “You are not seeing things clearly right now. But I will promise to be a good, honorable husband. And that is more than most men would do for you.”

Lottie swallowed. “What of my love?”

Mr. Wetherby scowled at the word. “I have never been a sentimental man, Miss Carlisle. I understand that you have an…attachment to Mr. Gresham because of your shared past. But it will fade in time. Especially given that he hasn’t returned the sentiment.”