The Runaway Bride. Noelle Marchand

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      “Yes, sir,” Sean agreed.

      Lorelei nodded. Settling back in the settee, she clasped her hands nervously in her lap.

      “You both have good reputations and I think you know that in a town of this size reputation is everything.” Leaning forward, he looked at them intently. “It affects everything from who speaks to you on Sunday to who will do business with you. It’s a precious commodity.”

      Her mother nodded gravely. “I know this will be difficult to hear since the two of you did nothing wrong, but I’m afraid there will be no way to avoid a scandal should any of this come to light. It’s in your best interest to try to head that off if possible.”

      Richard smiled wryly. “I’m afraid I’m not giving either of you much of a choice. I’ll not have my daughter’s name bandied about as a common trollop. We’ve already seen with Mrs. Drake that people will turn the facts into whatever sordid scenarios their imaginations lead them to believe. What’s worse is that the story would grow with each telling, and, believe me, people would tell.”

      Lorelei’s stomach clenched as her father’s gaze narrowed onto Sean. “I’m giving you six weeks.”

      “Six weeks, sir?”

      “Yes.” Richard straightened, his jaw firmed. “You have six weeks to court my daughter. At the end of those six weeks, I will expect a proposal.”