Page 24 of The Defiant One
Celsie slammed her own glass down. "Damn it, listen to you! The two of you go on as though I am invisible, as though I have no brain or will of my own, as though I'm nothing but a — but a — flea on a dog's ear!" She rounded on her brother. "Gerald, I told you before and I shall tell you again, I was the one who asked Lord Andrew to give me the solution. I was the one who doubted its efficacy. I was the one who attacked him, and I am the one who is responsible for this . . . this mess, and I will not have you forcing us into some ill-advised union when it is obvious that Andrew has no more wish to marry me, than I do to marry him!"
"And what if you're with child?" shouted Gerald.
"If I am with child, that's my responsibility, not Andrew's! He didn't ask for me to . . . to . . . ."
"Ravish him," finished the duke urbanely, topping up his glass.
"Damn you, Lucien!" exploded Andrew, as Celsie flushed crimson. "Must you be so damned crude?"
The duke merely smiled and lifted a brow. "My dear brother, I am merely repeating the words you used earlier."
"Did I ravish you?" demanded Celsie, her insides clenching.
Now it was Andrew's turn to go red. "Don't tell me you don't remember."
"I don't remember a thing except opening my eyes to find myself — "
"On top of him," finished the duke, smoothly.
"Curse it, Lucien!"
Celsie was trembling with mortification. "Thank you, Your Grace, for stating the matter so succinctly," she ground out.
Blackheath merely inclined his head and lifted his glass to her as Celsie turned angry, desperate eyes on Andrew. She saw his own gaze soften, momentarily, before he looked away, his jaw hard. He was as much a victim of this entire debacle as she was. He had warned her not to imbibe the solution, had even tried to talk her out of it. But no. She had taken his warning as a challenge, and now look at what happened.
"Did I?" she demanded, anger and self-disgust making her voice brittle.
He cleared his throat. "Well, let us say that your manner was nothing short of predatory," he allowed.
"Did you resist?"
"Really, Celsie!" thundered Gerald.
"Did you?"
"Well, I did at first, but to be truthful, madam, you were rather . . . well, persuasive in your designs."
"Oh, dear God," she moaned, momentarily covering her face with her hands. Then, raising her head, she looked Andrew directly in the eye. "Well then, since it was your honor that was compromised, your body that was — was —"
"Ravished," supplied Lucien, helpfully.
"Ravished," fumed Celsie, eyes flashing, "then I think that you ought to decide what should be done."
"This is highly irregular!" stormed Gerald, his complexion mottling. "Really, Celsie, I have never heard of anything so preposterous in my life!"
"Be quiet, Gerald. After all, I was the one who coerced Lord Andrew into giving me the solution, so therefore, it is up to me to deal with the consequences."
"I thought you said you didn't remember what happened!"
"Well, I remember that much!"
"Regardless, he was the one who deflowered you!"
"Maybe I deflowered him!"
"Highly unlikely," interrupted the duke, idly studying his cognac. "I daresay Andrew lost his virginity long ago." He smiled and slanted a benignly innocent grin at his brother. "Is that not right, Andrew?"
Celsie saw Andrew turn and glare out the window once more, his eyes like flint.
