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“I just don’t like the idea.” Yet he didn’t elaborate. He increased the distance between them, and any hope Marina may have had that he was going to kiss her evaporated. “Let us look at the books.” He took a chair beside her and opened up the book once again.
She chewed her lip and bent her face forward, hoping to hide both her disappointment and her blush.
* * *
James cut up the meat on his plate with a little more vigor than usual, finding his anger was getting to him. Marina made no comment on it to the point that he wondered if she even noticed. Sitting across the table from him, she had a book beside her dinner plate and was reading about Hogarth’s paintings.
He longed to ask what she made of the book, for he had read it twice himself, but his thoughts were caught up elsewhere. For the last two nights, he had taken Marina to the gambling hall, so she could become acquainted with how it worked. He had also shown her the books, so she could understand business practices and where their money came from. She had shown a natural aptitude for accounts and had impressed him with her skills. Despite her skill, he could not settle.
Two things that had passed in the gambling hall lingered with him as if there was an itch under his skin that he could not quite scratch. The first was how some of the men at the hall had turned their eyes on Marina, watching her. Their gazes he purported to be lecherous, even if their expressions were not obvious.
The thought of any one of those men touching her sickened him.
The second thing that had irked him so much was Michael. He knew Michael had only been causing mischief, but the thought of Michael and Marina possibly becoming intimate started a fury deep within his gut.
Staring at Marina across the table now, James longed to bring it up with her. Yet he didn’t feel he could give her another rule, saying that Michael was out of bounds as a lover for her – he had already given her many rules to follow.
“The gambling hall was interesting,” Marina said, out of the blue, closing up the book.
“Truly? You actually enjoyed seeing it?”
“I did.” Marina smiled a little, her green gaze finding his own. He happily lost interest in his food and looked at her across the table. Her beauty had become an increasing distraction in the last few days. “There was much more to it than I had expected there to be.”
“I am glad. Though you are as trapped in this marriage as I am, I hoped you would find something interesting here.” His voice had darkened with the words. As he took a sip of his lemonade, he noticed her smile slip from her face.
Ah, I did not mean to upset her.
“I am sorry.” Marina’s words were sudden and silenced the air. Neither one of them moved, ate, or sipped from their glasses. “About what happened,” she went on, turning her gaze down to her plate. “It was not my intention to trap you or anyone in marriage that night.”
“You must understand I find that hard to believe –”
“I was intending to ruin my reputation only.” Her words were soft. Contrary to her usual challenging tone, there was a gentleness there that intrigued him. He lifted his napkin from his lap and tossed it to the side, showing he was done with dinner.
Abandoning his place at the table, he stood, his boots echoing loudly across the wooden floor as he walked toward her. He took the chair closest to her at the table and sat down, waiting for her to continue on.
“I couldn’t marry Baron Rutherford,” she said slowly, shaking her head. “He threatened to…” She broke off and gasped, looking down at the glass she held between her two hands.
“To what?” James asked.
“To force me to share his bed. He made the matter quite plain.” Her whispered words put a fury in James. He sat forward, his palm on the table for fear he would strike it with his fists. The thought of anyone forcing Marina sickened him. She should be adored, made love to so that when she shared someone’s bed, she writhed with pleasure, not squirmed in fear.
“Well, I know what I’ll be doing the next time I see Baron Rutherford.” He cracked his knuckles in emphasis, and she smiled a little though it didn’t last long.
“I chose your brother that night because I was running out of time, and it seemed the best opportunity I had. I prayed that I could destroy my own reputation, and his would survive any scandal of me being there,” she explained in a rush. James slowly nodded, considering her idea.
“I bet too that you considered if my brother decided to offer to marry you, you thought he would make a better husband than the Baron.”
“I did.” The words were barely audible at all now. “I am sorry. It was fear, not cruelty or intention to trap you, that made me do what I did that night.”
James leaned on the table once more, bringing himself closer to her.
“I can’t blame you for that.” Strangely, he felt as if he hadn’t blamed Marina for some time – since finding out that she had been betrothed to Baron Rutherford, the thought had simmered at the back of his mind. He couldn’t blame any woman wanting to escape him. “I know what it is like to feel trapped, Marina. I acted out as you did; I broke free from the chains.”
He thought of his father’s debt left to him though he didn’t elaborate.
“I never want you to feel trapped here,” he assured her, his voice deep. “If you ever do, then act out. Be free as you like.”
“I feel trapped a little now.” She tapped the glass as she spoke, her eyes meeting his.
