“Lord Beresford was just sharing with me your wonderful rare Gutenberg Bible,” she said, wishing her tone didn’t sound as though she’d been caught with her hand in the biscuit tin.

“That’s not all he was showing you,” Mick barked. “Beresford, tomorrow afternoon, my office, two. We’ll sort this matter out.”

Beresford gave a sharp bow. “Of course.”

“We can sort it now,” Fancy announced. “Nothing untoward happened.” The touch of his lips barely even registered as a kiss.

“Tell them that.” Mick jerked his head forward.

She swung around. Oh, good Lord! At least half a dozen people were on the terrace gawking at them through the window. She was rather certain they hadn’t been there when they’d first entered the library, but she’d been so arrested by the rare book that she’d noticed very little except it.

Based on the way Beresford had positioned himself so she was blocked from their view, they no doubt thought he’d taken advantage and she’d let him. It was bad enough to be caught alone with him, but his nearness, his lowering of his head—

It wouldn’t take much imagination to expect the worst, and the aristocracy was not lacking in imagination.

Her reputation was ruined. Her standing, what little bit she’d managed to obtain, was crumbling. She had an awful feeling that Beresford might have intentionally placed her in this comprising position. He had to have known her family would have heard of this, had to have known where it would lead.

She was vaguely aware of his taking her hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Until tomorrow, Miss Trewlove.”

“Lord Beresford.” As she watched him stride from the room, she realized with a bit of dread that she’d just bid farewell to her future husband.

“I’m assuming he used the lure of the Bible to get you alone,” Mick said, his voice low, laced with understanding and perhaps a bit of disappointment.

How could he not be disappointed when she’d mucked things up irrevocably? Beyond mortified and humiliated, Fancy was grateful for the dark confines of the carriage. “He said other people were touring the library. That it was done. I know I should have walked out when I saw no one else there, but it was a Guttenberg. I thought no harm would come from a quick look. And then suddenly he was so close, talking of marriage . . . I’m so sorry. I know I was foolish and reckless. I’ve ruined everything for which you and the others have worked so hard.”

Unless she married Beresford. Her brothers would ensure he did right by her. She was going to become part of the aristocracy but not in the manner she’d planned: because of a grand love.