“I enjoy it, but it’s not a talent I advertise. It’s not in fashionthese days for young men such as I.” There was even a touch of humor inthat. “The French doors open onto the east terrace. Would you care to walka little in the fresh air? The evening is quite warm.”
After a slight hesitation, Beth agreed. For a moment she had begun tothaw, to react to his easy manner, and that would be fatal. The duke andduchess, the house and the servants, created such a solid fabric ofdecorum that it would take a cruder spirit than Beth’s to rip it inpublic. She needed to be private with him.
“Perhaps you will need a shawl,” he said, glancing at her bare arms.She would have sent for one, but the duchess indicated the one she hadlaid aside and he brought it for her. It was a beautiful Norwich silkwhich had doubtless cost more than Beth’s entire annual expenditure onclothes.
As the marquess placed it on her shoulders, his fingers brushed againsther nape. Beth shivered. Their eyes met and there was a moment of intimateawareness, a moment which frightened Beth to death.
She had to escape. She could never, never do this thing.
Beth hurried towards the doors, which he opened for her.
There was a three-quarter moon bathing the stone terrace, illuminatingthe sculpted urns set at regular intervals along the top of thebalustrade. Ivy trailed from them and plants were poking up but there wereno flowers as yet. The smell of the air was just the freshness of thecountry, and the sounds, too, were all natural ? a few rustlings of smallcreatures and, once, the hoot of a hunting owl.
The air had a slight chill now the sun was down, but, as he had said,it was warm enough for her to be comfortable. She shivered all the sameand drew the shawl closer around her shoulders.
He broke the silence. “It is a very beautiful house. Can you not findsome pleasure in living in it?”
“How would you feel, my lord, living in the palace of a Indianmaharajah?”
She saw his teeth flash white in a grin. The moon had turned his hairto silver gilt. “I might be interested, at least for a while.”
“So might I,” said Beth coolly, “if this were a temporarydiversion.”
He broke a spray of ivy from an urn and twirled it in his long fingers.“I do understand,” he said gently. “You have to stay here for a while,however. It shows clearly that you are accepted by my family. My motherwill introduce you to the people hereabouts. You may find it easier whenwe move to London for the wedding ?”
“I didn’t know we were to be married in London!”
He shrugged. “My father ? the duke is masterminding all this. Hisintentions are good. He wants you to be fully accepted by Society.”
He was being so reasonable Beth was almost falling into the trap. Sheforced herself to fight. “ButIdo not want that, Lord Arden. I have abetter idea. Why don’t we elope here and now and live as social outcasts?”There. That should shock him.
If so, it was not noticeable. “BecauseIdo not want that.”
“And what you want will always come first, I suppose?”
He turned sharply to her. “I give you fair warning, Miss Armitage. Ihave a temper. If you persist in snapping like a spoiled brat, I am likelyto treat you like one.”
Beth refused to be intimidated. “If there’s a spoiled brat here,” sheretorted with a sweeping gesture of her arm, “it is not I, my lord. I amthe poor working girl, remember?”
“You are a spitting cat looking for someone to scratch. Go scratch theduke and I’ll defend you. Don’t rake your claws at me.”
Beth turned away. This bickering would never serve her purpose. “Yourfather said much the same thing,” she admitted. “But it is you with whichI am entangled.”
“So it is with me you must negotiate,” he said more moderately. “Let usfind a middle path. I have no intention of having the world think me afool. Let them wonder why I’ve chosen a poor woman of insignificant birthfor a wife. I want no suggestion that I am forced to this, or that you aredispleasing to my parents, or that you are unsuited to your role.”
His wants. His intentions. Simple rebellion fired Beth. Still lookingout over the moon-silvered gardens, Beth taunted in response. “Or that Iam unwilling? How, Lord Arden, do you intend to make me show myselfwilling?” She turned back to him quite unaware of how the moonlight gaveher rather ordinary face the purity of a della Robbia angel.
She saw him suck in a breath, perhaps in anger. Then he walked slowlytowards her, smiling. “Perhaps, Miss Armitage, I can seduce you intowillingness.”
Beth’s nerves gave a shock of warning as she saw where her words wereleading. Unwisely, she retorted, “You would assuredly fail, my lord.”
She only got out a squeak before she was in his arms and his mouthcovered hers. His arms imprisoned, so struggle was pointless, but he didnot hurt her. One hand cradled her head, making it quite impossible totwist away, and his lips, soft and warm, only pressed enough to stifleprotest. Beth was totally helpless. She had always known in theory thatmen were strong; until this moment she had not realized how strong.
Then his tongue slipped through to touch against her lips. She tried toprotest and found it against her teeth, tickling against the inside of herupper lip. A quiver of something passed through her; she was alarmed by asensation of dizziness. With sudden resolution she parted her teeth,prepared to bite.
His mouth pulled back and he laughed.
“Life with you is going to be intriguing,” he said, eyes gleaming. “Anddangerous.”
