Page 18 of His Betrothed
He watched her for at least an hour as she toiled in the hot sun, her black gown clinging to her back. He thought he should feel victorious, but as she putaside the vegetables she meant to use for his meal, he suddenly wanted it all over with.
He rose up, bracing his hand against the apple tree, angered anew by how weak and trembling even his good leg was. “I’d like to go backinside,” he said, unable to use the name she’d called herself.
Roselyn sat back on her heels, wiping the perspiration from her forehead with her sleeve. “I have one lastrow—”
“I need to go in now,” he interrupted, watching as she flinched and her expression grew uncertain. If she had been born a boy, her acting could put her on the London stage.
She walked toward him, carrying the basket of vegetables. It sickened him that he would have to depend on her.
Spencer lifted his arm, and she stepped against his body. He wanted to feel revulsion, but instead, asshe reached around his back, he felt the pressure of her breast against his ribs, smelled again the natural perfume of her garden and her kitchen.
The walk from the courtyard around the cottage seemed long as he looked down at her bent head and thought of all the things he wanted to say. He was angry at her, and angry at his body for reacting to her as a woman.
Hastily she opened the door, guidedhim inside, then shut it. When she turned toward him, Spencer used his body to push her back against the door. The basket of vegetables tumbled from her arm and spilled across the floor. She looked up at him with wide gray eyes as hebraced his hands on either side of her and used all the menace his height allowed him.
“Mr. Thornton, what—”
“Be quiet, Lady Roselyn,” he said, his voice a soft,rumbling growl.
Terror widened her eyes, then she wiped all expression away.
“How did you know?” she asked in a cool voice.
Oh, she was good, he thought, leaning nearer. She shrank back against the door almost imperceptibly—but he saw.
“My bailiff gave you away, Lady Roselyn.”
She put her hands against his chest and pushed, but he didn’t move. “What do you mean,yourbailiff? And move awayfrom me. Now!”
“All in good time, Lady Roselyn. Have you been sleeping in my manor home? Is this cottage just to make me feel sorry for you?”
“You mean my parents’ home. I live in this cottage. Surely you remember they wouldn’t want me at Wakesfield—or anywhere near them.”
“Are you so foolish that you did not read the contract that binds us together?” he demanded. When would she tremble andcry and beg for his understanding?
“I broke our betrothal; nothing binds us now.”
“You don’t sound certain, my lady—and with good reason. Everything here is mine, by your father’s own command.”
This time she didn’t try to hide the flash of horror that stole across her features. “You are lying. I did not marry you, so you are not entitled to a dowry.”
“Believe me, I am more and more thankfulthat you didn’t marry me. But our contract is binding. You have made sure I can never legally marry—but I am damn well entitled by law to the lands and moneys promised me.”
She took in a harsh breath, and Spencer thought tears would be next. But she was so calm it was unnatural.
Roselyn vowed she would not scream, she would not give Spencer Thornton the satisfaction of knowing that once againhe had hurt her. Her father would never give away her childhood home, her only sanctuary. His words could not be true.
But her parents hadn’t let her read the marriage contract.
With her back against the door, she stared up at Thornton. This was the man she remembered. He used his strength and size to intimidate her, just as long ago he’d driven her away with a casual, dismissive look. He wasdark and foreign, and maybe even a Spanish spy.Would he try to hurt her now that he didn’t have to pretend anymore?
“Is that why you came to Wight?” she demanded, pushing again on his chest, feeling muscle as solid as any wall. “Do you want to disrupt my life with your lies just for revenge?”
“’Tis not a lie—this is my estate now.”
“You made it clear you didn’t want to marry me. I did bothof us a favor by running away, so I owe you nothing, and certainly not my home.”
“A favor?” he said, giving a harsh laugh. “I knew my duty; I would have married you.”
