The very air in the room altered when August entered. She
was simply stunning wrapped in her Worth gown and her confidence. She pulled
the door closed behind her, her chin parallel with the floor and her shoulders
squared to face him. It was almost as if she had been born to be a duchess.
“You are angry with me.” Noting the way her small hand kept
a secure hold of the doorknob as if she intended to leave at the first sign of
trouble, he stayed where he was so that he would not frighten her. He wanted
many things from the woman before him, but her fear was not one of them.
Eyes bright with her fury, she said, “Of course I am. Do you
have any idea what you have done?”
Even though he knew that it would only goad her, he could
not stop the smile from twisting his lips. “I presume you mean the waltz?”
“You know precisely what I mean. Everyone thinks that you
intend to propose to me now instead of Violet.”
It was terrible of him, but he could not resist himself when
it came to her. Smiling widely now, he leaned a shoulder against a shelf and
said, “You did ask me to not dance with her tonight, if I recall.”
She violently let go of the doorknob, if such a thing was
possible, and crossed her arms over her chest to pace the short distance to the
low-burning fireplace. The library was a small but comfortable room with dark
oak paneling and a seating area with several overstuffed chairs and low tables
set before the fire. Aside from the bookcases framing the mantel, and the row
of them at his back, they were the only furniture in the room. Had she kept the
chairs between them because she feared being alone with him? A twinge of guilt
made itself known that she was probably right.
“I should have realized you would make this into another
sparring match. Whatever your reasoning, you have made everyone believe that
you intend to propose to me. Why would you do that?”
She could not look directly at him when she asked that. Her
gaze had settled somewhere along his ear. Interesting. Also of note, the color
on her cheeks was higher than when she had walked into the room. Partially due
to her anger but, he would be willing to bet, also because she was as attracted
to him as he was to her. Watching the myriad of expressions on her lovely face
during their waltz had made him suspect as much. Now he knew for certain.
Tipping his head slightly to attempt to force her to meet
his gaze, he explained, “Perhaps because I do mean to propose to you. Have you
considered that?” He was surprised to find that his heart was pounding with
those words.
Breath lodged in her chest as she jerked to meet his gaze.
“What? No.” Her lips parted as she appeared to struggle to form her next words.
“I . . . I do not accept.”
Not yet, but she would. “I have not proposed to you, yet.”
Having overcome her apparent shock, she drew herself up.
“That hardly matters. I won’t accept when you do, so you shouldn’t bother.”
“Thank you for the fair warning, but I rather hope to change
your mind.”
She laughed at that. Laughed as if he were a lowly servant
asking for her hand rather than a duke. “Impossible.”
For the first time that night, a glimmer of anger burned in
his chest. “I am a respected peer with four estates and—since I lack the
requisite excessive weight and want of hair of others in my position—more than
a passing attractiveness.”
She took in a breath and closed her eyes briefly before
catching him with that directness he found both enticing and unsettling. “The
fact that you believe those are the only things that recommend you as a spouse
is both troubling and sad.”
He could only stare at her, taken aback by her opinion. “As
troubling and sad as they may be to you, they are very sound reasons for
marriage. Why would you not want to marry me?”
Crossing her arms over her chest again, she asked, “Why on
earth would I ever marry you? You
truly cannot fathom a woman turning down your offer of marriage, can you? I do
not intend to marry you, because I like my life as it is now. You have
absolutely nothing to offer me.”
“Nothing is such a strong position.” He heard himself saying
the words and moving forward without ever consciously thinking of what he was
saying. “You like kissing me. The marriage bed will be no hardship for either
of us.”
As he wove around the chairs separating them, she took a
step back until she came up against the bookcase. The soft flames of the fire
lit up the rose of her cheeks and the interest in her eyes. They had fallen to
rest on his mouth, much as his own gaze was eating up the sight of her soft
lips. It was amazing how the simple reminder of their kiss had changed them
both so fast.
Dear God, to have her in bed beneath him would be one of the
greatest accomplishments of his life.
“That is hardly . . . That is no
reason . . .” Her gaze moved back and forth between his eyes and
his mouth as he came to a stop in front of her. Near enough to touch, but he
did not dare take that path yet. “Are we like horses to you, then? Choose the
mare you would prefer to breed and we all simply go along with your choice?”
He managed to swallow down his laugh, even as her words made
heat pulse in his veins. “That is not at all how I see this, and it is hardly
fair to assume as much when I am willing to negotiate.”
“Not fair?” The softness that had crept into her eyes was
burned away by a new wave of anger. “You have some nerve speaking to me about
fair play. None of this is fair. You decide you need money and then decide to
marry to get it. Now you’ve decided that I will be your convenient bride, no
matter how I feel about it.”
This time he could not hide his laughter. “I assure you that
you are anything but a convenient bride. You are the most stubborn and
infuriating woman I have ever met.”
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