Page 50

The color drained from Lady Elizabeth’s face and she slowly raised a white hand to her throat.

Her stomach somersaulted. Swallowing convulsively, she stared up at him.

The silence in the room was suffocating.

Lady Elizabeth took a ragged deep breath.

“How dare you. I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man alive.

Get out!” she rasped, rising unsteadily from her seat and pointing toward the door.

She could not take his teasing her. She knew of her reputation as a shrew.

No gentlemen approached her. It was cruel of him to play with her in this manner.

In two strides St. Ryne was before her with her hand held securely between his.

“Thank you, my love. Since I know I am not the last man alive, nothing may stand in my way.”

Elizabeth sputtered, “S-s-swine! Trading on your birth as a nobleman.” She tried to wrest her hand away by pushing on him with her other. “A common cit is a better man! Let me go or I’ll scream!”

“Please do, my love. Though I must admit it is an unconventional method of saying, ‘Yes, I’ll marry you.’ I would never want my Bess to be conventional. Of course, if you really want to be in a more colorful compromising position, I’m sure we can arrange that, too.”

Elizabeth glared at him then slapped him with her free hand.

St. Ryne froze for a moment, then gently slapped her back.

Lady Elizabeth’s cheeks burned with the audacity of her action and his unexpected reaction. She didn’t understand him at all!

“Leave me alone! I don’t know how you weaseled your way up here, and I don’t care—just leave!” she rasped, her voice rising, catching painfully in her throat. “I-I won’t marry you. Is that plain enough?”

“My lady, you will marry me, because you really don’t like being the laughing stock of society.

You are a beautiful, gentle, sensitive young woman, and you have lived a lie in order to protect yourself,” he soothed, dropping her hands.

“Only now the chickens have come home to roost, and it no longer protects you. As each day passes, you are becoming more and more frightened.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened. It was on her lips to deny him, but the truth shone out from her face, and she felt naked and exposed. She turned from him to stand in front of the window, grasping the frame with a white-knuckled hand. Sunlight glowed around her like a halo.

St. Ryne walked up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. It was within him to feel compassion for this woman, but she still needed her strength and anger to see her through the next week. He did not want her broken—just the wildness contained, yet always burning within her.

“Don’t worry, my Bess. Though you are a hell-born brat, I don’t hold that against you.

I shall look forward to the fires you’ll ignite in our bed.

Now don’t be petulant just because you’ve finally met someone stronger than you.

I know you are already aching for my caresses, but we can’t have too much of a good thing too soon. That is a way to get sick.”

Elizabeth whirled around to glare at him and move away from his disturbing nearness, only to find she had backed herself into a corner. She tried to push him aside, but his arms were like iron and resisted her.

“You already make me sick.”

“Ah—see? We progress.”

“Get out of my way.”

“I am not in your way, I am your way,” he said softly, leaning toward her.

Just then Lord Monweithe slowly opened the door, his curiosity getting the best of him, since he had not heard much in the way of yelling.

St. Ryne turned his head toward the door with an easy smile on his lips, still keeping Elizabeth pinned in her corner.

He took one of her arms and lightly twisted it behind her back.

“We shall be wed next week at St. George’s in Hanover Square by special license.

I leave it to you to make all the arrangements.

By the by, I find the stories of your daughter’s temper all a hum.

We shall do very well together, won’t we, my sweet?

” he said, glancing down at her to be met by a look of pure venom in return.

“Oh, I know you must continue to rant and rail against me for appearances’ sake, and dig in your heels against the wedding because you are such a playful puss.

” He looked back to the Earl. “But she knows, sir, that will ye, nil ye, I’ll have her.

But come, we have much to discuss downstairs and all of us have much to do before next week. ”

St. Ryne let go of the Lady Elizabeth’s arm, backing away quickly before he could be slapped again.

Elizabeth merely rubbed her abused arm, her mind in a turmoil, her tongue cloying to the roof of her mouth.

Her eyes blazed at him, but she knew she had no way of denting his armor.

As he went to close the parlor door, some of her normal energies returned.

Glancing around quickly, her eyes lighted on a vase on the table next to her.

She picked it up quickly, throwing it at his head.

It missed, but just. She trembled at her audacity when St. Ryne turned to look back, and then down to the vase on the floor. He grinned.

“Practice, my dear, practice,” he suggested, and closed the door.