He dipped his head, bringing their lips nearer. “I do not want to marry, it is true. But neither do I want you to marry another man. That leaves us with only one solution to our current quandary, does it not?”
She blinked. “What if I do not want to marry you, Decker?”
Well, there was always that.
It was his turn to frown. “You do not want to marry me?”
She fretted with her lower lip. “That is not what I said.”
“Perhaps you would prefer to wed a lord,” he said grimly. “Someone like Hungtingdon or Quenington?”
He would never be able to change who he was. He was the bastard son of the Earl of Graham, and no matter how much he resented his arrogant prick of a sire and the fact that they shared blood, it would forever shape his life.
“No.” She shook her head, her gaze searching his. “There is no other man I would want to be my husband, if I must marry.”
He snorted. “That is hardly a commendation.”
“I—”
“Hush,” he interrupted. “Someone is coming.”
A flurry of footsteps beyond the library door reached him. Decker had a suspicion they were about to be interrupted once more by the Irate Brother of Doom.
He stole a swift kiss from her lips. Just one, and over far too quickly. “Allow me to handle matters with your brother. I will speak to you afterward, if he permits it.”
She looked as if she wanted to argue, but Decker released her hands and took a propriety-observing three steps in retreat. The library door burst open in the next second, revealing the Earl of Ravenscroft.
If glares could kill, Decker would be lying in a pool of his own blood on the Axminster at that very moment.
“Mr. Decker, what the hell are you doing in my library?” he demanded. “And Josephine, if you believe I will not make good on my threat of sending you to a nunnery, you are wrong.”
Decker sketched an ironic bow. “I am here to speak with you, just as I promised. However, I was repeatedly informed you were not at home.”
“That is true,” the earl snapped. “I am not at home toyou. Now kindly crawl back to whatever rock you emerged from beneath.”
“I will not be going anywhere until I have said my piece,” he insisted firmly.
“Julian, please listen to what Mr. Decker has to say,” Jo pleaded softly. “You promised Clara earlier that you would see reason.”
Ravenscroft’s glare did not abate at all. “Leave us now, Josephine.”
Instead of leaving the chamber and obeying her brother, however, Jo sidled nearer to Decker. That pleased him. A surge of protectiveness blossomed in his chest. Along with that same, troubling feeling that had been haunting him ever since… Well, ever since he had first thought about her conducting any of the items on her list with other men.
Possession.
He felt as if she were already his.
“Perhaps Lady Jo ought to stay as her future is being discussed,” he suggested to the earl.
“Mayhap the things I want to say to you should not be spoken before a lady,” countered the earl, but there was a grim note of acceptance in his voice.
“I do wish to remain,” Jo offered. “Think of Clara, Julian. If we are to settle this matter swiftly, it will ease her stress. She does not need to concern herself with me when she will so soon face her lying in.”
“Do not use my beloved wife as a pawn against me,” her brother snapped at her. “You owe her a debt of gratitude, you know. If it were not for her, you would be on your way to a convent as we speak.”
Decker’s lips twitched in wry humor at the notion. Ravenscroft was blustering, of course. Although he was still clearly irate with both Decker and Jo, he did not seem as inclined to begin throwing punches today.
Yet.
