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J ames awoke in the middle of the night to the sound of music.

He was immediately angry. He was sure at once what was happening. Victoria must be trying to disturb him. She seemed to derive such joy from tormenting him, and he knew that she was angry after the encounter with Lord Blackburn today in town. He should have expected some sort of retaliation.

That didn't make it any easier for him to accept.

She was going to have to learn that this sort of thing was not acceptable.

When she married, when she went to her husband's house…

Well, it wouldn't be his problem anymore.

But even so, the anger did not abate. Was she mad?

Didn't she realize that a husband might not be as lenient with her as he had always been?

If she were to try things like this in her husband's home, she might find herself facing a kind of anger she would never encounter here.

The anger he felt at being awakened in the middle of the night turned righteous. Someone needed to let her know that she couldn't always get away with these things. It was for her own good.

He got out of bed and pulled on his dressing gown.

Stepping into his slippers, he grabbed the candle that he kept beside his bed and headed for the door.

The music was coming from the conservatory, where the pianoforte stood, and he knew that she must have decided to play the middle of the night.

Was this another attempt to make him believe that there were ghosts in the house?

If it was, she must know that it was a fool's errand.

He hurried down the hall toward the conservatory and threw open the doors.

Victoria didn't even look up when he came in. She didn't falter in her playing. It was as if she hadn't even noticed his arrival.

James closed the door rather harder than was necessary in order to get her attention.

Victoria still didn't remove her fingers from the keys. She continued playing until the music reached its natural conclusion. She rested her fingers on the silent keys for a few moments longer, then removed them to her lap and looked up at him.

"Good evening," she said.

"Hardly," James shot back. "It's the middle of the night. What are you doing up?"

"I'm starting to feel as if you always ask me what I'm doing up in the middle of the night," Victoria said.

"Well, you're always up in the middle of the night," James pointed out. "If you don't want me to ask you about it, perhaps you should try staying in bed after the sun goes down."

"It's as I told you last time," Victoria snapped. "I couldn't sleep."

"What's the reason this time?" James asked her. "More fears about ghosts? Did you feel a cold spot in your room?"

"My fears are nothing so insubstantial," Victoria said.

"You'd be just as afraid as I am if you were me.

You can't imagine what it's like to have no control over your life.

To be taken into town, paraded before a gentleman you don't even know, and told that perhaps this is the man you will find yourself married to.

As if such a thing had never happened to me before.

Am I to be passed from husband to husband for the rest of my life? "

"Hopefully the next one will last you," James said. "I can't imagine you would need more than two."

Victoria looked down at the keys and said nothing.

"All right," James said. "So you couldn't sleep. What made you think it was a good idea to practice the pianoforte in the middle of the night?"

"I have to practice," Victoria said primly.

"We're having a guest over tomorrow, and I know you want me to impress him.

I need to be sure I'm ready for that. Since I was only warned a day ahead of time, I'm not sure when I'll have time to prepare my music.

You want me to be ready to play for the earl don't you? "

The wave of anger that swept over James was something he felt totally unprepared for.

Whatever she said, he knew why she was doing this.

She had gotten up in the middle of the night to make noise in a deliberate attempt to disturb his sleep.

It was her way of getting back at him for inviting Lord Blackburn to dinner.

"You are incorrigible," he ground out through gritted teeth.

"You have been a thorn in my side from the very start.

You shouldn't be my responsibility, you know.

It's not my fault my cousin chose to marry a lady such as yourself.

It's not my fault you are so difficult to get along with.

I shouldn't have to put up with you, and once you're married I won't have to. "

"You'll never get me married if you don't permit me to practice," Victoria said smugly.

"You and I both know that you aren't practicing out of any desire to impress Lord Blackburn," James snapped. "You don't care what he thinks of you. Or, I should say, you would likely prefer it if he disliked you. You don't want anything to do with him. You don't want to marry him."

"You know all that, and you're still determined to force me into a marriage with him," Victoria said wonderingly.

"What kind of man does that make you? Certainly not one who cares for my happiness or well-being.

You only care about yourself. The only thing that matters to you is how you are impacted by things going on around you.

I don't want to marry, and I tell you that it will harm me if you force me to do so, but you refuse to listen. "

"And you're unwilling to admit that I may know what's best for you," James said.

"You don't know what's best for me," Victoria said.

"You hardly know me at all. You don't know anything about me.

I allowed myself to believe you knew me well because you understood that I wasn't capable of murder.

But now, sitting before you, it occurs to me that that is the bare minimum.

Anyone should be able to see that I'm not that type of person.

I don't know how I gave you credit for understanding that I'm not a criminal.

You deserve no credit for that realization. "

"Well, I agree that it's not a very difficult thing to see," James nodded.

"It does confuse me that so many people seem to think you a murderer.

But it's as I said — they've latched onto what the most interesting story is.

There's a part of them that wants to believe my cousin was murdered because it's exciting and it allows them to ostracize you.

I do wonder how many of them actually think it's true.

It's probably fewer than you would think. "

"Which only serves to reinforce my point," Victoria told him. "Understanding that about me doesn't mean that you know me well."

"How well must I know you in order to arrange a marriage?"

"I don't doubt your ability to arrange a marriage.

But you say that you know what's best for me.

You seem to believe you know that better than I know myself.

Or perhaps you simply believe that it is your right to do whatever you may think proper with me.

You think of me as a part of this house, as a possession that you inherited when my late husband died.

You came in here and told me that everything in the house was yours.

The books were yours, the furniture was yours, and all of the rooms belonged to you.

Well, I can concede that this house is yours.

I can accept that everything in this house is yours.

But I am not one of your possessions. I am not a part of your inheritance.

I am not just an object that you can pass around. "

She had risen from the piano bench while she was speaking, driven to her feet by her own passion. Now she closed the distance between the two of them, never breaking eye contact with him.

"I refuse," she murmured. "I refuse to do as you wish. I refuse to marry. I refuse to allow anyone else to have such control over my life. Not you, and not any other gentleman either."

James found that his breathing was rather erratic. He didn't know how to account for it. He was extremely aware of how close to him she was standing. And as he regarded her, he found his eyes dropping to her full lips.

They were parted slightly. He inhaled sharply as he took them in, unable to turn his mind from the thought of kissing her.

It was a mad thought, of course. He knew perfectly well that it was the last thing he should be considering.

He wasn't truly considering it. It was just that she was so…

So engaging. And he couldn't deny that she was beautiful.

If he had met her under different circumstances, if she was another person altogether, he might be considering kissing her. A part of him almost wished he could.

He had been staring at her lips for too long. He forced his gaze back up to her eyes.

She had noticed what he was looking at. He could tell it once by the fact that her cheeks had gone rose petal pink. She took a quick step backwards.

But she must've been flustered, for she tripped over her feet and stumbled.

James's hand flashed out without his thinking about it, and he caught her by the waist before she could fall.

It was necessary to pull her close, to catch her against his own body in order to stabilize her, so when she gasped in shock, he felt the rise of her body against his and it felt like lightning had run down his spine. His heart seemed to miss several beats.

She stared into his eyes, looking as if she was searching for something.

James couldn't begin to sort out all the things he was feeling.

He was excited by her, by the opportunity to hold her against him even though he knew they shouldn't be doing any such thing.

At the same time, his anger had not abated.

She thought she could just refuse to go along with his plans?

What did she think, that she could stay here in this house with him forever?

Did she feel entitled to call this place her home even now?

And she was just going to refuse all the effort that he had put into finding her a better situation?

All because she wanted to resist being controlled?

"I can tell you one thing," he said. He was aware that he was trembling, though he didn't know if it was from excitement or rage or some heady combination of both.

"You certainly have a knack for making me lose my control.

So I wouldn't be too quick to assume that you are the only one out of control these days. "

He pushed her away from him rather roughly — more roughly than he would have done if he had been fully in control of himself. Knowing that he needed to distance himself from her until he could get a tighter grip on his emotions, he turned and hurried from the room, leaving her to watch him go.