Where on Earth have I met you before?
It was the only thing he could concentrate on when he should really have been reprimanding her for her insolence.
“Well?” she prompted. “Is that it? Is this solely for a dowry?”
“Yes,” he replied, his mind still searching for where he had encountered her before.
Lydia folded her arms across her chest. “The way I see it, thisisa winning hand for you and a losing one for me. I could have the same freedom as a spinster.More, perhaps. Why should I accept your proposal?” She glanced at the carriage clock on the mantelpiece. “I shall give you two minutes to make a persuasive argument. If you cannot, I shall chase you out of here, and I shall curse your name with everything I possess.”
My sharp-clawed, sharp-tongued feline…
Recognition flared like a lantern in the dark, the phantom sting of her slap tingling up his cheek, the memory of her lips honey-sweet on his own. He had assumed her ferocity in the library had been a result of their misunderstanding, but now he could see that it was part of her nature.
A minor pity, for he had hoped for a more obedient sort of wife.
“I do not need two minutes.” He smiled coolly. “You will accept because you have no other choice. I am not asking nicely, Lady Lydia.”
Her blue eyes glinted with simmering anger. “Then do not expect a nice reply.”
“I am surprised by your behavior, in truth,” he said silkily. “You did not seem so repulsed by me in the library. Shocked, yes, but not repulsed. Would it help if I donned my wolf mask and you put on that delightful cat mask again?”
Lydia’s gasp reverberated through him, a thousand emotions shifting across her face in the span of seconds. “That… that was you?” Horror pushed to the front of her obvious feelings. “You kissed me to compromise me and trap me in a marriage with you! Iknewyou were a weasel!”
William smirked. “That was truly a case of mistaken identity, but what is done is done.” He bowed his head to her. “We are getting married in a week.”
He turned to leave, pausing on the threshold. “Oh, and if you have any thoughts of emulating your sister, just remember the soft press of my lips on yours and what you have read about me in the scandal sheets over the years. I should hate to see your name there, besides mine, in anything but congratulation.”
CHAPTER 4
The moment William left, Lydia collapsed to her knees, slumping forward with her head in her hands. After dreaming of the truest of true loves since she was old enough to read a fairytale, she was to end up with the crooked shrub of a villain instead of the golden hero.
She was to be married to a wretch who snuck around at balls to grab and kiss unsuspecting—and suspecting, according to the scandal sheets—ladies.
It was too much; air and tears locked inside her chest, fighting to get out. So, she kneeled there, rocking back and forth, entirely numb. The enormity of what had just happened would undoubtedly hit her like a rock later, but for now, the bombardment of every emotion at once was canceling each other out.
She did not look up as she heard the sound of footsteps racing toward the study.
“What did I tell you?” her father cried. “What did I say, just before I stepped out of the room?”
“It could not be helped,” she whispered, shaking her head. “He had it too well planned.”
Her father approached. “What do you mean?”
She shook her head harder, feeling so foolish for all the silly daydreams she had allowed herself to enjoy since the masquerade. He had been a beast all along, even in her imagination, where she had thought she was safe. As for being repulsed by him—if she had not been utterly appalled before, she certainly was now.
“I… I…”
The words would not come out, fear trapping them in her throat. Of all the people in the world, she simply could not tell her father that she had allowed herself to be caught alone with a gentleman. He had warned her so often, implored her to maintain her propriety.
“Do not be like your sister,”he had said time and again before Emma had found love and security with Silas.“I would not survive it if you were to bring shame upon us too.”
“Lydia, my sweet girl, is there something you are not telling me?” She heard her father move closer. “You can tell me anything, dear one.”
She wished that were true.
“His… argument was persuasive,” she murmured, praying her father would let the matter go. “I am… just… thinking it through, that is all. I saw no reason to… bring you into the conversation. He said nothing… he had not already said to you, I imagine.”
Her father sighed, and she could picture him with his hands on his hips, shaking his head at the realization that his youngest was just as defiant as his eldest.