Page 8 of Too Wicked for Heaven

His eyes narrowed. She seemed convinced that if he fought her uncle, the man would die. The idea was spurious at best, but her misconception could work in Neville’s favor. She wanted something of him—her uncle’s life. And he wanted her hand in marriage. Unfortunately, only her uncle could agree to give that to him, unless Neville could convince her to elope, which was doubtful.

Then an idea hit him that was so perfect, he nearly laughed aloud. There was a way to soften her toward him while at the same time ensuring that Kensingham accepted Neville’s suit.

“If I am to refuse this duel,” he said, wishing he could see her face, “I’ll expect something from you in return for the blow to my honor and reputation.”

Her entire body went rigid. “Something from me,” she echoed woodenly. “I suppose I should have expected that.”

“Yes. You should have known better than to think an ‘unprincipled rake’ like myself would commit such a noble act with no hope of gain.”

Her fingers curled into fists.

He leaned forward to cover her fists with his hands. “Spend the night with me. One night. Stay with me tonight, and I swear I’ll cry off on the morrow.”

She snatched her hands from his to cross her arms over her chest. “Only you would make such an abominable suggestion.”

“Probably. Does that mean you refuse to do it?”

Her breathing grew labored, as if she struggled to hold back tears. “What a choice you give me. Either sacrifice my reputation for my uncle’s life or let him sacrifice his life for my reputation.”

“You need not sacrifice either. No one need know you’ve been with me. You’ve already arranged for this meeting to be secret. In the morning, you can return home before anyone awakens in your house.” But he would do his best to be sure she was there when her uncle came at dawn. The sight of his niece eating breakfast at Neville’s table would force Kensingham to allow the marriage.

“You are no gentleman to ask this of me, Nev,” she whispered.

Her use of his nickname tweaked his conscience, but he squelched the feeling. What he was doing was best for all concerned.

He leaned back against the carriage seat. “We established earlier that I’m no gentleman. And you knew that when you came to my carriage alone to plead for your uncle.”

“You were a gentleman years ago.”

“I was young and foolish years ago.”

The carriage stopped suddenly, and he looked out to find that they’d reached his Richmond house. Light from the outside lamps flooded her face, revealing a heart-breaking loveliness that made his breath catch in his throat.

And if you’d been then what you are now, I’d never have been a gentleman. I’d have acted ruthlessly to get you.

He could almost see her weighing his proposition, her quick mind trying to find a way out even while she acknowledged there was none. He waited, wondering if he’d gone too far. If she refused, what would he do?

When next she spoke, her voice sounded brittle and somehow older. “I suppose you mean that ‘one night’ to be spent in your bed.”

Something in her fearful tone kept him from confirming her assumption. He had to play this carefully to win. He didn’t need to bed her to compromise her. If it made her more willing to accept his proposition, he could easily promise not to.

And pray he could keep the promise. “No. That’s not what I meant at all.”

Surprise was plain on her face. “No?”

“Although I’d like nothing better than to have you in my bed, forcing you to go there would be tantamount to rape, and I’ve never stooped that low.”

“Then I don’t understand,” she said in a confused voice. “What could you possibly gain from spending a night with me if not my virtue?”

She had him there. He couldn’t tell her the truth—that he hoped to force her uncle into allowing him to marry her. Instead, he gave her an answer as close to the truth as he could manage. “After tonight, no matter what happens on the morrow, your uncle will do his damnedest to keep you away from me. Yet I find myself loath to part with you just yet. So if you’ll give me a few hours to enjoy your company, I’ll accept my fate tomorrow and refuse to fight your uncle.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “‘A few hours to enjoy my company’? Truly?”

“Truly. I swear I’ll not press my attentions on you without your permission, although I can’t promise I won’t spend the entire evening shamelessly attempting to get that permission. And you must agree to stay in my presence the entire time.” He flashed her a look of mock solemnity. “Also, I’d prefer it if you’d stay awake for at least part of the evening.”

For the first time since she’d entered the carriage, she smiled. “My, but you have rigid conditions.”

“I do indeed.” He leaned forward. “Come now, what have you got to lose? You spend an enjoyable evening chatting with an old friend about whatever amuses you, and in return, I publicly proclaim myself a coward. What more could you want?”