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Percy only laughed. “Any woman who would put a living snake in your pocket is certainly up to my standards by merit of sheer mischief. Besides, my father has been after me to find a decent girl.” He peered at him, sobering. “By George, you aren’t bothered by the idea, are you? I know you’ve kissed her, but I thought that was just—”
“Of course not. It’s only that I know Sabrina would never seriously consider you,” Henry said, deliberately doing his best to appear nonchalant. “You are far too much like her father.” Which is the problem.
The impudent grin returned. “I can certainly remedy that little misperception. You’re, ah, quite certain you aren’t interested in her yourself?”
Henry wanted to hurl the decanter at his friend’s head. Instead, he gripped the handle a bit tighter and poured himself another glass. “Do as you please—only don’t come running to me in a panic when the hellion takes you up on it,” he said with nearly perfect equanimity. Nearly.
The other man stared at him for a long moment. “Very well, then. I shall shock the masses tomorrow and put myself forth. I would only do this for you, you know. I’ve spent years cultivating my reputation as an impossible fish to catch. I hope you appreciate my sacrifice.”
Henry forced a smile to his lips. “She hasn’t accepted you yet.”
“She will,” promised Percy, laughing. “I can be very persuasive, and I’ve never yet had a woman turn me down.”
God.
His head began to pound. It was time to face the truth. If she accepted Percy’s proposal, it would mean he’d never had a chance at all. Not really.
He made the decision to try one more time. If he could not convince her to marry him for the right reasons, then he would rather her have a measure of what she took for happiness with Percy. At least with him, she’d be safe from Fairford.
It was the lesser of two evils. He doubted very much whether he would be able to wish them well, but if she persisted in her blind prejudice against him, it might be the only viable alternative.
There is always abduction, his thoughts whispered. He could. He could compromise her and force the issue. But she would never trust him again for as long as she lived, and that was no marriage. He wanted her to choose him.
LONDON WAS ABUZZ with the astonishing news: Lord Falloure, the man long hailed as “The Terror of the Ton,” had at last succumbed and was paying earnest court to the increasingly outrageous Lady Sabrina.
And there was more. News had reached Henry t
hat Percy had put aside his latest mistress.
Today, as he and Sabrina walked along the edge of the woods at Belleford, Henry decided to take the bull by the horns. “I wish to discuss the matter of you and Falloure,” he began quietly, staring at the reflected sunlight dancing on the river’s surface.
“What is there to discuss?”
“Are you planning on accepting his offer?”
She shifted, the nervous motion betraying her. “What offer? He hasn’t made one.”
“He will.”
“Are you so certain of another man’s intent?” she inquired lightly. “I’ve already told you he is merely a friend.”
“Yes, which is the same thing you told people about me, and I should think we are more than just friends.”
She sighed, picked a leaf from a nearby tree, and flicked it away. “Perhaps that is the problem. Your possessiveness has overreached the reality of our relationship.”
“I won’t deny that I don’t like his hanging about,” he continued, “but my main interest is in protecting you.”
“Haven’t you figured out by now that I’m quite capable of managing myself without a keeper? I don’t need your protection. Besides, there is nothing to protect me from. He. Hasn’t. Proposed.”
“He will.”
“Are you aware of something I am not? Has he shouted from some rooftop that he intends to ask me?”
“He might as well have. He has dismissed his mistress.”
“Yes, he told me he was planning on doing so,” she answered with a careless shrug.
Her answer stopped him in his tracks. “He did what?”
