Page 51 of Love and the Shameless Lady

Chapter 8

“Nothing.” Daisy turned away again, unable to bear his searching gaze.

“I don’t believe you. What did that smuggler do to you?”

“Nothing,” she repeated. “It doesn’t matter. Just forget it, will you?” She had to get away. She headed for the door.

He followed. “Look at me, sweetheart. Talk to me.”

Oh God, why must he call her by that loving name? It made her want to melt into his embrace, just as she’d done earlier in the drawing room. He made her feel so safe, so cared for, so loved.

What an absurdity. She shook her head. “Sir Julian, please. Truly, I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.” He donned his coat. “It’s just that most people enjoy jesting about bed sport, whether or not they intend to indulge in it. I hate to think that whatever he did has frightened you instead.”

“I’m not frightened,” she snapped.

“If you say so.” He cocked his head to one side. “What happened? Did he beat you with a riding crop or tie you to the bed, something of that sort?”

She halted, her hand almost at the door. “I beg your pardon?”

His lips quirked up. Why must his gaze be so knowing? “Not that, then. Clearly you’ve never heard of such practices.”

She wished she were a better actress. She knew how to be cold and angry, but she couldn’t seem to maintain even that façade with him. She thought she’d heard of everything, what with all those vulgar songs, but these particular forms of sexual activity had never been mentioned.

“It’s none of your business.” She hastened to change the subject. “Why would Miles think you are fortune hunting? Aren’t you well off?”

“Yes and no. I inherited a heavily encumbered estate. Most of its income goes to paying off the debts, but I have other sources for my day to day expenses.” He shrugged. “I didn’t know about your dowry, but Garrison wouldn’t have believed me if I’d told him so. He can think what he chooses of me, but I don’t wish to expose you to even more opprobrium than before.”

“Better than Melinda or the baby coming to harm. If there’s plenty of talk, horrid as it is, the murderer may learn where I’m sleeping and avoid the family wing.”

“Assuming he will somehow find a way to gossip with the servants,” Sir Julian said. “Assuming he is willing to risk coming upon me as well.”

“I don’t want you to be hurt either, Sir Julian.”

He laughed. “I’ll be fine. Let’s go down to dinner.” He opened the door, then said in a soft voice, “By the way, if Lord Garrison asks, I showed my interest in you from the day we met, but I offered for you this morning after helping you down from the roof. I hope you didn’t tell Melinda something different?”

“No, but she knows about the books and the death threat, everything but the fact that our betrothal is false.”

“You must leave off my title and just call me Julian, at least during family dinners. It will give credence to our betrothal.”

Yes, but it felt far too intimate. She couldn’t afford to feel intimate with this inquisitive, perceptive, attractive man.

But nor could she think of an excuse, so she agreed. “Very well. Julian, it is.”

They left his bedchamber and proceeded downstairs. Their feet made no sound on the thick runner, which was perhaps why Miles and Melinda didn’t hear them from the drawing room.

“She hardly knows the fellow,” Miles growled. “Colin would never forgive me if I let her marry him out of desperation.”

Daisy came to an abrupt halt, huffing. Julian stopped as well.

“How dare he think I would do anything so stupid?” she hissed. “Or that he could stop me!”

“He doesn’t know you,” Julian said softly. “Not really.”

Which seemed to imply that Julian did. It was frightening how clearly he saw her. Understood her.

“I can think of no other reason she would agree to marry someone she met only a week or two ago,” Miles went on.