Page 25 of The Defiant One
"So you see, my dear? That settles that."
"That settles nothing," Celsie snapped. "Lord Andrew? What are your wishes in this matter?"
"I have already stated them. With all due respect, madam, I have no need or wish for a wife. Indeed, I would prefer to forget this matter ever happened and simply get on with my life."
"Well then, as I also have no need or wish for a husband, I daresay we are of like mind, and I, too, would prefer to forget it ever happened. Please take me home, Gerald. I find that I am developing quite a headache."
The duke sipped his cognac. "Really, my dear, that's an excuse you should have used an hour ago." He turned to his brother, eyes gleaming. "I beg your pardon. Perhaps you should have used it, Andrew."
Celsie thought — hoped — that Andrew was going to kill the duke right then and there. He shot to his feet, his face darkening, his fists clenching at his sides. "The lady has stated her wishes, I have stated mine, and I am leaving."
"So am I," snapped Celsie, also rising.
"But what about my brother's compromised honor?" asked Lucien, raising an innocent brow. "It would be most embarrassing if word got out that he was attacked by a woman and did not enjoy it."
"I never said I didn't enjoy it," Andrew ground out.
"Oh. Well then, that changes things immensely, doesn't it? As you are of superior strength to the lady, and did nothing to defend yourself from her — what did you say? — ah yes, persuasive designs upon you, then I daresay we can conclude, after all, that you are as much responsible for this predicament as she is. I really think that one of you, at least, should offer marriage."
Celsie had had enough. She strode angrily up to the duke of Blackheath, who remained sprawled negligently in his chair, an amused little smile playing about his mouth as he looked up at her.
"You seem to be rather hard of hearing, Your Grace," she said tersely. "I have already told you that I have no wish to get married."
"And you, my dear, seem to be ignorant of the gravity of this situation. Perhaps if you explain why the idea of marriage to a handsome young man like my brother here is so revolting, I will suddenly find my hearing quite restored."
"Because marriage doesn't suit me, that's why."
The duke was back to examining his cognac. "Ah, yes. I seem to recall that the last two fellows you tried to marry expired under rather extraordinary circumstances, the former, if I remember correctly, by choking on a pea. Hmm. Perhaps marriage doesn't suit your prospective bridegrooms, my dear."
"Only one of them expired," said Celsie icily. "But even so, we wouldn't want your poor brother here succumbing to the Jinx."
"Rubbish," said Lucien, smiling. "He is a de Montforte. 'Twill take more than a pea to do him in." He looked at Andrew. "Surely, you are not afraid of being done in by a pea, are you, Andrew?"
"Why the devil should I be afraid of being done in by a goddamned pea when three drops of my solution seem to have done the trick well enough?"
"Ah, but surely it is not as bad as all that. You do not find the lady wanting, do you? She is quite lovely," the duke murmured, lifting his glass to Celsie. "She has spirit, intelligence, and enough money to finance any disastrous little experiments you should choose to . . . test in the future. Truly, I cannot see what the problem is."
"The problem is, I do not need some female interfering with my time, my work, my schedule, my life. I do not have time for a wife, and I do not want the responsibility of having to look after one."
"Ah, but you should have thought of that before you allowed her to take the solution. Now, you may find yourself facing the responsibility of looking after a child. Would you want any son or daughter from this union to be born a bastard, Andrew, simply because you are too stubborn, foolish, and proud to do the right thing?"
Celsie slammed her hand down atop a small table. "Stop harassing him! It is obvious that he has no wish to get married, and I will say once and for all that I don't want to get married, either!"
"Ah. Do you find him wanting, then?" asked the duke, smoothly.
"That is not the point! And I have had enough of this absurd conversation. Gerald, I demand that you take me home. Now."
"Celsie —"
"Now. Before I grow even angrier than I already am."
Gerald put down his glass, but his jaw was rigid, his eyes glittering with fury. "Very well then, Celsie. If you will await me in the carriage, I will join you as soon as I have concluded my business here."
She rose to her feet. The gentlemen did as well. Then, with a short curtsey to the duke, Celsie turned and marched from the room, leaving an awkward silence in her wake.
"That settles it, then," said Andrew.
Somerfield put down his glass. "That settles nothing, de Montforte."
