“The latter,” she answered with ease. Too much ease, she knew, and far too quickly as well. “What I am telling you, Lord Rayne, is that I want to marry you tomorrow morning, just as we have discussed. I do not wish to tarry any longer.”
His sensual lips flattened into a thin line of determination. “And yet, you initially objected to the abbreviated nature of our betrothal. What has changed, my lady?”
Everything.
You.
Me.
The way you make me feel. Your hands beneath my skirts.
She blinked. “Nothing has changed, and that is the reason why we ought to carry on as planned. I have prepared myself according to the nature of our agreement, my lord. I do not wish to wait any longer. Doing so would not benefit either one of us. We both are eager to move on with our lives.”
Deny it, she begged him inwardly.Tell me you have no intention of moving on without me. Tell me your intentions have altered.
Instead, he nodded. “This is true, my lady. The sooner you are with child, the sooner I can return to Spain.”
She suppressed a flinch at his words. She had known, all along, what he wanted from her. Why had she dared to think he might change his mind? Because he had shown her a modicum of concern? Because he seemed to care? Because he had run his delicious hands over her thighs?
“Of course,” she forced herself to say brightly, as if the reminder of his plan to callously abandon her and his child were not the verbal equivalent of sinking a dagger deep into her heart. “If we marry tomorrow as planned, we will both be much nearer to accomplishing our goals.”
“Our goals,” he repeated.
Ah. He believed he was the only one in their marriage with goals. How very man-like of him.
“Yes,” she said. “Ourgoals, my lord. You wish to return to Spain, assured of an heir who will keep your odious cousin from inheriting your estates and title. I wish to secure my freedom and to hold my head high in society. To never again have to suffer banishment. I will admit, I am most eager to return to my friends and the social whirl.”
His jaw had tensed. She did not miss the signs. Something about what she had just said had displeased him. But she could not fathom what it would be.
“Which friends are you eager to return to, Lady Catriona?” he asked coolly. “I will remind you that you are a reflection of me. And further, that you will remain faithful to me until you produce me a healthy heir. Not a moment sooner.”
How dare he suppose she only wanted to marry him so she could take a lover or otherwise bring scandal and condemnation down upon him? When he was the one who was so hell-bent upon returning to Spain and abandoning her and their child in England?
Catriona’s first instinct was to rail against him and such an unwarranted judgment.
She forced her indignation aside, however, for the night had been a long and trying one for the both of them. And she was still thankful for the way he had come running to aid her, Monty, and even Torrington.
“I am more than aware of the responsibilities I will be undertaking as your countess, Lord Rayne,” she informed him, her voice equally frigid. “I may have been ruined, but I have no intention of flouting the vows we speak.”
She could only hope he would not.
He nodded. “Thank you, Lady Catriona. I will take you at your word.”
“And I will thank you for honoring my word,” she said, even though she was certain he doubted her. Perhaps few people in his life had ever been worthy of his trust, or something had happened to make him so quick to be suspicious.
At odds with the sudden vein of their conversation, he proceeded to pour her a fresh cup of tea, adding sugar and milk accordingly. He offered it to her with a wry smile. “Tea, Lady Catriona?”
“Thank you.” This time, when she accepted the cup and saucer, she took great care to keep her fingers from brushing his. Spurred by a persistent voice inside her, she continued. “You promised me freedom, Lord Rayne. After I bear your heir, I am to have free reign over my own life. You assured me that much when you asked me to become your wife, and if you are seeking to rescind the offer now, please say so.”
He poured himself a tea—no sugar, no milk—with effortless elegance. “One life in exchange for another,” he said. “That is what I promised you, my lady. I trust you are still willing?”
One life in exchange for another.
How cold it sounded.
How emotionless.
He had no wish to meet his child or have a role in his upbringing. She must not forget that.
