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‘Yes. But I am here. You desire me. Your head tells you I am the wrong woman, but your body does not care. And now you think I have no choice. That I must marry you because my reputation will be soiled for ever. You also have no choice—you can say that later, too.’
‘No.’
‘You heard the maid and you knocked the mirror askew.’
‘That was an accident.’
‘Accident.’ She followed with an expressive gesture. ‘That is what I think of your accident.’
He jumped to his feet. ‘You cannot for one moment believe I did this to trap you.’
‘Oh—’ she shrugged ‘—why should I not? You had a brief moment to think and you didn’t. You acted.’ She cocked her head to the side.
‘You are wrong.’
‘I refuse. Refuse. Refuse. To let my children think their father was forced into marriage with me.’ She could not control her voice. Let the world hear. ‘That he purchased me in his own way. Oh, I have seen that. How many drachmas am I worth? Five hundred. Oh, but you have much more money. A thousand, then. And will you shout at me in front of my children to tell me how you paid too much for me? No, you will not.’
His voice softened. ‘I would not.’
‘No, you will not.’
She stood, securing the coverings, a Grecian goddess draped in white, as in times of old, proud as any statue. She brushed a tangle of hair from her lips.
‘I will walk naked down St James’s Street before I turn my back on my heritage and before I am trapped into a marriage I don’t want.’ She swirled the cloth and controlled her words. ‘But thank you for asking.’
He inclined his head to her and reached for his own clothing, thankful she did not have a spear and that her bow and arrows had not been returned to her. That was the only thing from this situation which he could be happy with.
‘I—’
Her words cut across his before he could finish. ‘I will say, Stubble it, Your Grace. Or perhaps, Rolleston, hold your tongue, seeing that I can only call you Rhys when we are alone because we have no ties at all.’
‘Except the ties of marriage,’ he added.
‘And this is written where?’
If he did not tread very carefully, he knew that not only the servants, but the tongues of the ton would get more than a splash or two of on dits. This would make the notorious tales of Lady Lamb fall by the wayside. He slipped on the trousers that had been dropped beside the bed. He picked up the shirt he’d tossed to the floor and donned it. She stood draped in rough-woven bedclothes, and the small amount of light found her, sparkling on the earrings, cloaking her regally.
‘In society’s eyes,’ he said, ‘you’ll be able to wed no vicar now. You will be a woman known to have been...been in my bed...in the servants’ quarters...’
‘What about you, Your Grace? If you ask another to wed you too soon, what will you think of her if she says yes? She will be marrying only your title. Your funds. Your estate.’
He continued with his shirt and trousers. ‘Warrington will insist on our marriage. Your sister, the countess, will expect it. I will acquire a special licence before first light tomorrow morning.’ He held his boot and sat on the bed. He stared at the leather. ‘With Warrington and I both in accord, we can have this completed by nightfall. It is not unheard of for a man and woman to share a bed on their wedding day.’
‘This is not my wedding day.’
He raised his eyes...waiting.
She smiled. At least her lips did. Her eyes, not at all.
‘Yes. It is.’ He paused, seeing steel in her face. ‘You cannot...’ He paused. ‘You cannot refuse. Warrington has control of your dowry.’
‘Yes. Warrington has control of my dowry. I cannot get it at the moment, but I am sure he will give it to me eventually. That was a mistake my father’s wife regrets. She has promised she will correct it very soon.’
He knew where this was going. ‘And your father’s wife...’
Her shoulders flicked up and then down. ‘We have talked. Her relative has the wealth so that my father cannot touch it. It was done that way before her father died because he did not want his money in the hands of her husband, my father. My father’s wife can do exactly as she pleases because her cousin moves the funds as she instructs. And when I told her in the past of my wish to be free...’ Her chin tilted. She might not have a spear in her hands but she could use her words as one. She tossed the words out and they landed as a challenge. ‘My father’s wife understands. She understands my need to make sure I am safe at night and that no man can get near me if I choose not to let him. She has a spinster aunt in Scotland. My father’s wife owns the house and she would like me to live there with her aunt. That is who I spoke of before.’
