Page 36 of Not his Marchioness
“Our arrangement to be rid of one another,” he said flatly.
She paused, and they regarded each other steadily.
Rhys had engaged in such battles of will with his brother during childhood—usually over some trivial matter—and he had always won. He would not be the first to look away now.
Silence settled around them. From outside came the nicker of a horse and a child’s brief cry, quickly silenced by a nursemaid.
Finally, she exhaled and looked away, conceding defeat.
“Yes, our arrangement to make this marriage look genuine, then go our separate ways. If you continue behaving like an unmarried man, that will never happen, and we will both end up not only ruined but also laughingstocks. So I ask you to exercise discretion. I will not inquire about your nocturnal activities, but I do request that you be careful. If you must go out, perhaps frequent establishments where you are unlikely to be recognized.”
He pressed his lips together thoughtfully. “What exactly do you think of me?”
“What I think of you? I fail to see how that is relevant.”
“It is if you believe my conduct will ruin your efforts. Perhaps you should specify what misdeeds you fear I might commit, so I may avoid them and spare us both future distress.”
She planted her hands on her hips. “I am not in the least distressed,” she declared, in a decidedly distressed tone. “I simply wish to protect our plans and our future.”
“You think I am reckless,” he said, issuing a challenge.
“I think you…” She hesitated, then let her arms fall, her palms turned upward. “I think you are the sort who enjoys playing with fire.”
Well, he had heard such accusations before.
His mother, much as she had loved him, had often despaired of his behavior. She had encouraged him to join the military or read the law, but he had not cared. And his father had been entirely on his side. After all, he was not the heir, merely a second son and therefore not expected to behave like a gentleman.
Now, he sometimes wished his mother had won those battles.
He pushed away the memory of her worried face and focused on the woman before him.
“I may enjoy the occasional adventure, but I will not allow it to destroy our plans.”
“I hope not. I will do everything I can to help restore your reputation, and soon enough, everyone will believe we are happily married. Provided you do not accidentally burn down our entire future,” she said crisply. “Now, if you will excuse me.”
She swept past him toward the door.
He watched her march up the grand staircase, equally amused and intrigued. And somewhat unsettled, for he had just realized something rather startling.
Finally, he had encountered a woman who wanted neither his fortune, his title, nor his reputation. She desired only her freedom.
And as he watched her disappear down the hall, he found that the more desperately she wanted that freedom, the less inclined he felt to grant it.
Their exchange had ignited something within him, something he had not felt in a long time.
While they’d sparred, he’d felt fully alive.
Had he perhaps made a grave error in inviting the very woman who could be his downfall to take up residence under his roof?
CHAPTER 15
Tick-tockwent the grandfather clock. The relentless sound seemed to mock her as she stirred yet another lump of sugar into her tea.
It was already past five o’clock, and Rhys still had not appeared. He had promised—sworn on his honor—that he would be present to greet their guests. The very first callers to their home. And yet he was nowhere to be found.
It seems I have wed the very king of broken promises.
First, he had lied about his whereabouts on their wedding night. Not that she had wanted him anywhere near her chambers. But it was the principle of the matter.
