“Eugie.” There was the voice again, deep and delicious.
Hisvoice.
Slowly, her eyes opened, blinking into the darkened chamber. Surely, it had been a dream. Surely, the Earl of Hertford was not truly in her room. She turned her head on the pillow and let out a shriek when she found him standing beside her bed, illuminated by the flickering glow of a small brace of tapers.
“Damnation,” he muttered, scowling at her. “No screaming unless you want the entire wing at your door demanding to know what is going on in here, and then you will truly have no choice but to wed me.”
Her body was instantly aware of his nearness. Undoubtedly the dream she had been having about him did not help matters. Her nipples were hard. Her skin was flushed. Why, oh why, did she have to be so responsive to the scoundrel?
She clutched the bedclothes to her neck as if they were a shield. “What are you doing in my chamber?”
“Lower your voice, Eugie.” He settled his rump upon the edge of her bed.
“Get off my bed!” she whispered furiously.
“I need to be nearer to you so no one will overhear us,” he returned.
“The only thing you need to do is go away,” she countered.
“I want to speak with you.” His low voice was as delicious as ever, sending an unwanted trill through her.
She ignored it. “Speak with me elsewhere.”
“I would have.” His jaw clenched. “But you have been hiding away in here for two days. I had no choice but to come to you.”
“I am not hiding.” Her cheeks went hot. “I am ill.”
A shadow flickered over his face. “Is it because of me? Because of that night? You are not in pain, are you?”
Only internal agony, but she was not going to admit that to him.
“No,” she snapped. “Now do get out of my chamber, Lord Hertford. You do not belong in here, and if this is some sort of stunt to entrap me into marriage, I can assure you, I will not go through with it. I will not be forced into marriage with a fortune-hunting cad. One man tried it before you, and he was not any more successful than you will be.”
His nostrils flared. “I am not attempting to force you into anything.”
“I distinctly recall your words the other night.”
“Admittedly, my delivery was lacking. I merely wanted to reassure you I would take care of you.”
“I do notneedto be taken care of,” she returned.
“Allow me to rephrase.” His tone was as grim as his countenance as he paused. “I wanted to reassure you I would not bed and then refuse to wed you. While my actions have suggested otherwise, and I do not blame you for reaching such a conclusion, I am a man of honor.”
“And why would I wish to wed any man, least of all you?” she demanded, still unimpressed by his efforts.
Dev could not make her marry anyone.
She could go somewhere, take her disgrace elsewhere. To the deepest, darkest recesses of the country, where no one knew her name and she could not taint her family. She could buy a cottage and plant roses in her garden and live off her fortune and take care of herself.
It did not seem a bad plan.
Perhaps lonely.
She would miss her sisters and her brother, certainly.
But she could do it. She was strong.
“Because you could be carrying my babe,” he said then, a fervent note in his voice she had not heard before. “I took measures to ensure my seed would not take root, but nothing is certain.”
