Page 105 of Lord of Temptation
Chetwyn stepped into the bedchamber and slammed the door shut in her brother’s face. Anne pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter. She could only imagine Jameson’s startled expression. She’d never seen Chetwyn so forceful. It was a bit disconcerting to realize that it excited her to see him this way.
He strode to the fireplace, raised his arm, pressed it against the mantel, and stared into the cold empty hearth. “Do wish I’d stopped by your father’s study for a bit of spirits.”
“I have some brandy.”
Looking over his shoulder at her, he grinned. “Do you?”
“Yes, would you like some?”
He shook his head. “No, I suppose not. You should know, Anne, that I will treat you kindly.”
“I never doubted that.”
“You will never want for anything. I am convinced and believe with all my heart that I can provide you with a satisfactory life. But I daresay that I believe you deserve more.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I think Lord Tristan is a rotten bastard,” he continued. “But be that as it may, I’ve seen the way he looks at you and more, I’ve seen the way you look at him.”
“How is that, my lord?” she dared to ask.
“As though you are the only two people who exist in the world.” He faced her completely. “Do you love me, Anne?”
She dreaded answering him. She didn’t want to hurt him but she couldn’t begin today with a lie.
“I don’t love you either,” he said as though she had responded. “I asked you to marry me because of Walter’s letter. I’ve come to the unfortunate conclusion at a rather inconvenient time that it’s not enough upon which to base a marriage.”
“Walter’s letter?”
He reached into a pocket inside his jacket and removed a yellowed crumpled piece of paper. “He was ill when he wrote it. I suspect he knew he would die. He asked me to see that you were happy, and I thought that I could ensure that best if you were my wife. I thought I owed him that at least. I pushed him into joining a regiment, into making his own way. Our coffers are thin, you see, and I didn’t want to give him an allowance. Then we declared war on Russia and I told him to sell his commission. Marriage to you would bring him a dowry; he could make do with that. But he didn’t want to be seen as a coward. It’s my fault he’s dead.”
“No, Chetwyn.” Her heart going out to him, she crossed over and placed her hand on his cheek. She had yet to put on her gloves and she was grateful she could offer him a warm touch of comfort. “He always liked playing soldier as a lad. You know that. Nothing you could have said would have swayed him from going. His heart was set on it. You can’t hold yourself responsible. We all have to make our choices and live with them.”
“Is that whatwe’redoing, Anne? Making choices with which we must live?”
“Are you crying off?” she asked, halfway teasing, halfway serious, not quite sure what she wanted his answer to be.
“We beat him up you know.”
“Who? Walter?”
“No. Lord Tristan.”
Her stomach tightening, she stepped away.
“The night he came to the club,” Chetwyn explained. “After he told us that he had attempted to seduce you but that nothing occurred between you and he. We escorted him outside and pummeled him. Rather badly, actually. He didn’t lift a hand to stop us.”
“No, he wouldn’t have.”
“I thought he’d have been a better fighter, that he would have held his own against us.”
“He certainly could have if he’d chosen. I saw him beat off the ruffians that my idiot brother hired while barely mussing his clothes.”
“So why didn’t he resist?”
“I suspect because he thought he deserved the beating. Or maybe he wouldn’t hurt those I care for. Probably the latter,” she said after a bit more thought.
“Do you love him, Anne?”
