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Somehow the words did not lighten the heaviness that tugged at her heart, but she managed a stiff smile as she swallowed the lump in her throat.
“You have accomplished what you desired in Paris,” she said in a voice that thankfully did not shake. “I assume that you will be returning to Madeira.”
“On the morrow.”
Her fingers clutched the covers. “So soon?”
“There is no need to delay, and I will admit that I am anxious to be home.”
“Then it is perfectly obvious what is to be done with me.”
A strange smile touched his lips as he moved back to the bed. “I am relieved that you agree, meu amor. I feared that you might foolishly attempt to battle the inevitable.”
She smiled wryly. He would, of course, be arrogant enough to assume she would plead to stay at his side. Had he ever possessed a mistress who was not anxious to keep him as a lover?
Well, if he expected such nonsense from her, he was destined to be disappointed.
She managed to tilt her chin to a proud angle. “I only ask one favor of you.”
He quirked a dark brow. “And what is that?
“I ask that you offer me sufficient funds so that I can return to England in at least some comfort.”
“Ah.” With an unexpected motion he shifted to sit on the bed next to her. “I fear that will not be possible.”
Raine glared into the impossibly handsome features.
“You promised that you would see that I was returned to England in safety.”
“And so you shall be…in time,” he drawled sardonically. “My business demands that I spend at least part of the Season in London. And no doubt you will wish to visit your father while we are there.”
“Visit?” Her frown only deepened. “I do not understand.”
He shrugged, his expression revealing nothing of his inner thoughts. “I cannot imagine why. It all seems rather straightforward to me.”
“You said you were going to Madeira.”
“And so we are, meu amor. Indeed, we will travel straight to the island in just a few hours. I have already spoken to my groom to assure we have a carriage awaiting us at first light.”
She straightened from the pillows, her jaw clenched. He intended to take her to his home? No. As painful as it might be to have Philippe walk away from her, it was preferable to being dragged to Madeira.
Gad, did he not realize how humiliating it would be to endure the disdain of the servants and villagers who had known him since he was a small lad? To live in the home that would someday be filled with his children?
“No, Philippe, I will not go to your estate,” she said, her expression set in determined lines. “It is not proper.”
He slowly shifted, his arms landing on each side of her body to trap her beneath the covers. He was close enough that his breath brushed her cheek and the scent of his warm body wrapped her in its potent force.
“You are wrong. Nothing could be more proper. It is where you belong.”
“A mistress does not reside beneath her lover’s roof.”
“No,” he whispered, his eyes watching her with a strange intensity, “but a wife most certainly resides with her husband.”
Shocked silence filled the room as Raine struggled to accept that she had not misheard the low words.
“Good Lord,” she rasped, pressing herself into the pillows, “you’ve gone mad.”
His lips twisted as he stroked a finger down her flushed cheek. “We have already established that is a distinct possibility, but that does not alter the fact that I intend to make you my bride as soon as we return to Madeira.”
