Page 63 of How to Best a Marquess

Ellie gaped at him, stunned. How dare he? “You have no right.”

Hugh met her gaze, and a muscle ticked at his jaw. “I have every right.”

Ellie turned away and looked at Osbourne. “Pardon Lord Deveril’s rudeness, Lord Osbourne. He must have helped himself to too many glasses of our host’s champagne this evening and is acting quite boorish.”

Osbourne looked more amused than angry. “You need not apologize on his behalf, my dear. However, I shall take my leave before Lord Deveril feels inclined to challenge me to a fight.” He shot a hasty look at the marquess. “His pugilistic talents have been widely remarked upon.”

Lord Osbourne bowed, then returned to the ballroom, leaving her alone with Hugh.

Coward. So much for using him as a distraction, she thought.

“For a scoundrel, he has intelligence,” Hugh scoffed.

Ellie’s temper flared, and she glared at him with burning, reproachful eyes. “Why are you here?”

“We need to talk.”

“You said everything that needed to be said the other afternoon.”

He outstretched a hand. “No. I have not.”

She shifted to avoid his grasp, her fingers clutching the balustrade. “Go back inside, my lord. Lady Fabry is waiting for you.”

“You must know that she approached me. She means nothing to me.”

“Just as she meant nothing five years ago?” Ellie bit her lip. She shouldn’t give him the satisfaction of letting him known how badly the past still troubled her.

Hugh lowered his hand. “I explained what happened then.”

“Yes, you did. You kissed her because you thought it best for me.” She still could not fathom his behavior, his complete lack of trust in her ability to handle the truth.

“Ellie, please. It wasn’t like that.”

“It was precisely like that,” she snapped. “You arranged for me to see you kiss that woman rather than gather your courage and tell me your parents did not approve of our match.”

“I didn’t have a shilling to my name. It was for the best.”

“Best for whom?”

Rather than hear his answer, she spun away, but he stopped her by grasping her arm. His expression was intense, hot. “You may damn me for the past, but not the present. Never the present. Have you forgotten the afternoon we shared together at the club?”

“It was a moment of weakness. Nothing more.” Her voice sounded weak even to her own ears. Unwanted images of their lovemaking rose fresh in her mind.

His stare drilled into her. “I don’t think so.”

She tugged on her arm, but his hold was relentless. “One afternoon does not mean anything. Especially to a man such as yourself.”

“You’re wrong. It meant everything to me.” Reaching out with his free hand, he caressed her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

Despite her anger, awareness shivered through her, unwelcome. The longer he stared at her with smoldering possessiveness, the harder it became to resist the tiny tremors in her limbs. He must have sensed her weakness and he stepped closer, releasing her arm to press both hands on either side of her on the iron balustrade, caging her in. She had nowhere to go. Her gaze lowered to his mouth, and she had the insane urge to lick the perfect seam of his lips.

“You were a virgin, Ellie. Despite what you think of me, I am a man of honor. I should do right by you and tell your brother.”

Her gaze snapped to his, and she stared at him in horror. “You wouldn’t dare.” Her breathing was ragged, desperate.

“I would.”

There it was again. His insistence that he had her interests in mind. Her own mind was a crazy mixture of anguish and fear. “What do you want?”

“You.”

“Me? Or the Raven?”

He hesitated for a heartbeat. “Both. If I have you, then we both get the Raven.”

She didn’t trust his motives. Not when he’d admitted to ruining their past and not giving her the opportunity to fight for their youthful love. There was also more involved than his highhandedness. More that he didn’t know and that she couldn’t confess. He would never approve of her association with Violet Lasher, let alone how the two of them planned to aid Lady Willoughby.

She was convinced more than ever before that she had to win the club and not allow Hugh to distract her with false promises or claims of honor. And most damaging of all, he did not mention love.

Because he does not love you. He never has.

Another type of pain seared her heart, the deep-seated pain of an old wound ripped open. She needed to keep the ultimate prize in mind. She had no intention of ever permitting a man to decide her future. Never again.

“Promise you will not whisper a word to my brother,” she said, then winced at the clear desperation in her tone. He couldn’t suspect there was more.

He removed his hands from the balustrade and met her gaze. After a moment of utter stillness, when she was aware of her pounding heartbeat, he nodded once. “I promise. For now.”