“Having known you all of your twenty-one years, you might be willing to concede I know you extremely well, wouldn’t you agree?” he asked after they were both seated. He paused a heartbeat and continued, as apparently the question was rhetorical. “In some form or another, you’ve been in love with Rutherford for practically half your life so please explain to me why you are now refusing to marry him? Dammit, if nothing else, he owes you.” His green eyes flashed with anger.
“What do you mean?” Missy cried. “You told me you would support any decision I made.”
“That’s when I thought you’d come to your senses and accept,” he snapped. “My God, he’s ruined you and you may be expecting his child. Have you given any thought to what you—an unmarried lady—will do?”
Except for the day Thomas had learned about the indiscretion, she’d never seen him so worked up. Damn him for promising his support when he hadn’t meant it.
“He doesn’t love me. Would you have me married to a man who was forced to the altar?” She sat rigid in her seat.
“I would have you married to the father of your child rather than disgraced and ostracized from Society.” He came to his feet in one fluid motion and began pacing the length of the room.
“As I told James, I don’t even know if I am with child. Women do faint for other reasons. It could very well have been from hunger. My appetite has been off for several weeks.” Which was the truth. Ever since she had met with James after the incident, food had become a necessity, not a pleasure.
Thomas paused to pin her with a look that told her that nothing she said would appease him today.
“You said you would not force me,” she reminded him again, watching the broad spread of his retreating back, before he spun on his heels and made his way back, his tread quiet and tempered. He halted by the mahogany desk.
“I will say nothing for now, but in the event you are carrying his child, I promise you, we will have this discussion again and I will be far less indulgent.”
In other words, he wouldn’t rest until he saw them wed.
“I take the blame for what happened and I am willing to deal with the consequences by myself. Judging by what you did to his face, don’t you think James has already received his due?”
Missy thought her brother was going to explode as his green eyes flashed like lightning strikes. “You are not the only member of this family. Have you given any thought to Emily or Sarah? And what of Mother?”
“Of course I have and I won’t allow anything to damage our standing in Society. I’ll leave if I have to.”
With a weary sigh, Thomas closed his eyes and shook his blond head. “Missy, the man ruined you. He owes you. Moreover, he had that beating coming and more. If you didn’t love the blasted man so much, I would have called him out.”
“They do not permit duels any longer. You’d have been jailed or hanged.”
“Men have been called out for less,” came her brother’s dry reply.
Missy gave a small smile. Although famous for his volatile temper, especially if compared to Alex, who was the soul of temperance, she knew her brother was capable of beating James senseless but he loved him too much to actually kill him.
“Well, then we must all be extremely relieved that it didn’t come to that.”
He grunted and said, “Yes, I imagine we all are. Look, Missy, I know I’ve never spoken to you about this, but I want you to know that I will provide amply for you in your marriage contract.” He braced against the edge of the desk, his legs crossed at the ankles. “You will be given a monthly stipend in an amount that will keep you and any children you may have,” he stared pointedly at her waist, “self-sufficient and in relative comfort for the duration of the marriage. I have also put the house in Dorchester in trust for you. I will also demand a clause be put in the contract that your husband has the responsibility of furnishing you with comfortable conveyance for your exclusive use.”
It appeared Thomas had given the matter a great deal of thought. But his gesture, while generous and caring, didn’t bode well for her marriage—that is to say, if she were to wed.
Reading the surprise on her face, he rushed to add, “This is something I plan to do for Emily and Sarah as well. My intent is to ensure you will always have lodgings to call your own, and enough money to care for yourselves in the event your marriages are not to your liking.”
Tears misted her eyes as she stared up at her brother. She could see his anger was born out of love and much of her own pique dissipated. Rising to her feet, she came to stand in front of him. She reached out and took his hand in hers. “Thank you.” Tenderness lit the pure green of his eyes, which was the only response she required.
After a loving squeeze, she released his hand and dropped hers to her side. “I wonder what James would make of these demands—if I had agreed to his proposal, that is?” she added quickly.
“I can’t imagine I would hear one word of dissension,” Thomas replied, grimly. Then he muttered under his breath, “If he knows what’s good for him.”
But loud enough for her to hear every word…and smile.
Chapter Twenty
Missy felt like a wallflower, hugging the wall like it was her only support. She’d declined the third invitation to dance in as many minutes, but when Claire had been whisked away by Mr. Chepley, Missy had thought better of it. She hadn’t wanted to attend Lady Langley’s ball but her mother had been adamant.
A quick glance around revealed that James hadn’t arrived—as yet. But she was certain he’d come. In the three days since she’d refused him, he had attended every event where she’d been present. He had showed up daily in Hyde Park to intercept her morning walks. Even an impulsive trip to Bond Street to procure a new reticule and shoes had triggered an encounter. The man was everywhere! He simply wouldn’t leave her alone.
Missy felt hunted…and vulnerable, for with every encounter, every look, every touch, she weakened. Until then, she’d never experienced James Rutherford in pursuit. If he had been hard to resist before—and she knew intimately just how much—he was nearly impossible when he utilized the full force of his charm. He kept her on edge, her senses in a constant heightened state. She knew he was determined to wear her down but she was equally determined to resist.
Another sweep across the dance floor revealed Claire enjoying a waltz. Her gaze continued on until she spotted both Thomas and Alex, cups in hand, near the refreshment table at the rear of the room. The last she had seen both men they, too, were on the dance floor. Missy didn’t see one young miss pass the pair whose eyes did not linger over long on the sight they made, tall and disarmingly handsome in their evening wear. She started across toward the popular pair, skirting the perimeter.
“Missy.”
The sound of her name came from behind her and stopped her dead in her tracks. James said it loud enough for her to hear above the music and gaiety but it held a sensual quality to it; low and gravelly, for her ears alone. She wanted to run and hide but if she did it would give him the upper hand. She turned on the heel of her kid leather boots to confront her tormentor.
Her breath caught in her throat. He was dressed in black evening wear, white gloves and a blinding white cravat. He looked dashing, simply breathtaking.
“Missy, you look exquisite,” he murmured, peering at her from between thickly fringed lashes. She saw seduction in his eyes. She had to force herself not to stare like a besotted fool. Composing her features, she affected an air of indifference.
“James.” She did not offer her hand but he took it anyway. Impaling her with his gaze, he bent his head and brushed the back of her gloved hand with his lips. Then he turned her hand until her palm faced upward. Too bemused to pull away, she had no idea what he intended until she felt the damp swipe of his tongue on the inside of her wrist.
This time, Missy did jerk her hand back and then glanced quickly around to see if anyone had witnessed his impertinence. She met a couple of curious stares with a c
ool smile. She turned her attention back to James. “Just what on earth do you think you are doing?” she said in a fierce whisper.
The smile he sent her set her heart into a mad race and caused her toes to curl. A dull throb started between her thighs. She silently cursed the ease in which he could bring her body to a pulsing state of unwanted arousal.
“Is that not the manner in which men greet women of such dear acquaintance?” he asked, all innocence and light.
“We no longer have that kind of familiarity.” She smiled for the benefit of any onlookers and then turned to resume her course.
But she should have known a man like James could not be dismissed. In two swift strides, he was by her side, his hand taking a commanding grip of her elbow.
“I think our familiarity goes well beyond a mere kiss on the wrist, wouldn’t you say?”
Startled, Missy instinctively started to jerk her arm away but he clamped his hand down firmly and steered her toward the doors leading outside.
Missy could have struggled if she wanted to make a scene, but she’d no desire to be on the tongue of every gossipmonger, so she allowed him to lead her to the terrace.
“What is it you want, James?” she asked, doing her best to sound as bored as she was flustered, agitated, and hot.
He released her elbow and Missy instantly yanked her hand from his reach, thrusting it behind her back for good measure. But the tingling of her flesh lingered long after the contact ended.
“You have had over a half dozen men paying you court tonight alone. Do I not warrant the same opportunity?” He watched her from between hooded eyes, his mouth a sensuous dream. “I would think given the—uh—intimate nature of our relationship, even more so.”
Missy knew that looking into his eyes spelled certain surrender so she cast her gaze out into the dark, still London night where the scent of floral blossoms mixed with his sandalwood cologne.
“We,” she said, with great emphasis, “do not have a relationship.”
James moved into the line of her vision. She could tell by the amused glimmer in his eyes that he knew exactly what she’d been trying to do.
“Don’t fool yourself. We,” he said with the same emphasis, “will always have a relationship. Right this moment you could be expecting my child.”
Missy stamped her foot. “Hush!” She made a furtive look around, spying a long row of hedgerows on one side and two couples conversing quietly just outside the terrace door, well out of earshot. “Do you really want the world to know? Is it not enough to ruin me but will you have me shunned too?”
James’s pale eyes slit ominously. “You’re the one who wishes it this way. Just say the word and we can be married within the week.”
He made it all sound so terribly easy but she knew better. A marriage between them would be a disaster.
“Why are you pushing so hard now? You do not want to marry me. You have said so often enough.”
“I want you,” he said, his voice throaty and deep, his eyes glittering hot.
“You said it was only lust.”
“Which is sometimes more than many couples have.”
“Yes, but it is not enough—not for me.”
James took a step closer and tilted her chin with a gloved hand. “What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t want you to say anything,” she said, while resisting the urge to wrench her chin from his hand.
“You will be my wife,” he said softly but his tone held a hard edge of determination.
“Yes, but will you be my husband? Will you be the kind of husband I want?”
“What exactly is that supposed to mean?”
“Will you pledge your love and fidelity?”
James paused, and it was the kind of pause that, no matter how quick the recovery, was an answer in itself.
“What you are offering me is not a marriage. It is a business arrangement. I will provide you with an heir and I will get…” Missy allowed the sentence to trail off.
Nothing is what she would get. A cold sterile union with the benefit of fantastic, mind-shattering sex. And sadly, no matter how well suited they were in bed, it would not be enough to build a good marriage.
“I am offering you a father for our child. I am saving you from the shame of ruination.” Missy could tell by the hard note in his voice that his patience had worn thin. The last three days of cajoling had now given way to hard coercion.
“That is if there is even a child. We don’t know as yet.”
“So you would rather wait and then have the ton whisper your name when our child comes early?”
“It is done all the time,” she said, feigning indifference with a shrug of her shoulders.
“I won’t have it done to me or mine.”
The possessive tone in his voice startled her. She could almost feel the frustration and anger in his form emanating from him in waves.
“You act as though I belong to you. I belong to no one. Even if we were to marry, you wouldn’t own me.”
“You would be my wife. That claim alone would be sufficient.” He treated her with another hot stare and this time he took his time as he trailed down her figure, his gaze lingering on the pointed peaks of her breasts and the indentation of her waist. She felt a hot blush suffuse her cheeks, and her body, in its usual betrayal, reacted to his regard.
She folded her arms across her chest. As if there was protection against the way her body immediately responded to him in any and every fashion. The knowing smile that curved his sensuous lips told her he was aware of her response.
“I have a proposition to make I believe will suit us both.” He gave her one of his coaxing, gentling smiles that she had been subjected to with potent frequency the past three days. Missy wanted to close her eyes against its lure. “Until we have ascertained whether a child has resulted from our love—”
“Our indiscretion. Our mistake,” she cut in. Whatever his ploy, she was determined not to lose sight of the stark, brutal reality of what had occurred between them. Embellishing it with words like love didn’t change the facts.
The irises contracted within the azure blue of his eyes and his mouth tightened. After a moment, his expression eased.
James continued after her heated correction. “Very well, then if you are expecting my child, you will marry me. If you prove not to be, well then…” He deliberately left the sentence unfinished. Let her conclude what she willed from it. Right now he needed her to stop running from him. A lie by omission was a small price to pay.
She opened her mouth to speak, and James could tell by her expression, her response would be anything but agreeable.
“And before you refuse, let me advise you of two things. Not only am I a high-ranking member of the ton, but my father is quite influential in the House of Lords. I hope you’ve come to know me well enough to know I will not allow you to take my child from me. I will not allow you to bear me a bastard. I would exert all my influence and power, and that of my family to ensure that that does not come to pass.” He paused, to let his words penetrate. “It’s up to you to decide which you prefer, a truce or a fight.”
Missy’s mouth snapped shut and remained that way while silence held court. She eyed him, as if to gauge his sincerity. Eventually, her shoulders and chin dropped as if understanding that he hadn’t issued a groundless threat, but an avowal he would follow through to the bitter end.
“And if I am not?” she asked, suspicion in her voice.
“If you are not, then we’ll both be spared, won’t we?” he replied, avoiding answering the question directly.
Missy regarded him, trepidation in her eyes. Slowly, almost reluctantly, she said, “Very well. I shall agree to that.”
Relief flooded him. Until she’d agreed he hadn’t known just how important her acquiescence had been. Thoughts of the child had barely factored into his determination. He wanted her. Craved her. It didn’t matter if she was expecting his child or not. And if he was being honest with himsel
f, it was that fact that terrified him.
“Wonderful,” he said briskly. “Then come, let us dance. We should at least act the role of a prospective couple.”
Missy hung back for a moment, while she considered his latest proposition. Giving a slow nod, she accompanied him back into the ballroom.
What Missy hadn’t expected was for James to head directly toward her brother and Alex. Thomas was still sorely upset with him and grew quiet and brooding whenever his name was uttered. Alex, on the other hand, refused to take sides, continuing to treat James exactly as before.
“I see you have decided to brave the lion’s den.” Alex said, thrusting his hand forward as they halted in front of him. Two dimples creased the slash of his cheeks and one dimpled his chin, loading him down with looks aplenty. His reference to Thomas at any other time would have elicited amused smiles instead of the tension-wrought stretch of silence that followed.
James shook his outstretched hand, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “I’m relieved to see I’ve managed to retain one of my friends.” He stared pointedly at Thomas, who glowered at him before turning his gaze away. Missy was surprised he hadn’t already walked away.
Alex chuckled. “As I don’t believe my brother has the same appeal as Missy, I can say we are fairly safe from having the same issue mar our friendship.”
Missy couldn’t help a smile. James scowled and glanced over at Thomas, who stood mere feet away.
Following the direction of James’s gaze, Cartwright said, “Don’t concern yourself with him, he will eventually come around.”
Even above the din of the crowd, Thomas was still well within earshot, and his expression grew fiercer before he pivoted on his heel and stalked away. James instantly stiffened and a red flush washed his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. It was apparent his rift with Thomas sat heavy on his mind—perhaps even on his heart, if he had one.
“I will leave the two of you to enjoy yourselves.” Cartwright gave a half smile and a brief nod and then strode away to get lost in the crush.
Beverley Kendall Page 26