At a click Portia whirled to the door.
“He’s locked it,” Bryght confirmed. “He’s not best pleased with us, I fear. We had better do as we are told and talk to each other.”
Portia turned. He was coming toward her, smiling. “Don’t!” she exclaimed, backing away.
He stopped. “What’s the matter?”
“Don’t touch me.” She meant it as much as a warning as a protest, for she knew she was vulnerable to his slightest touch and she did not want to entangle them any more than they already were. She saw him take it as outright rejection.
With distant courtesy, he asked, “Do you have any objection to sitting by the fire where it is warm? May I pour you some wine? I’m afraid I have no food here.”
Portia stared at him. “Of course I don’t want wine. The marquess has locked us in, time is flying, and in the morning there will be a duel. We must do something!”
“I doubt there will be a duel, Portia. Relax a little and talk to me. Do you realize how little we have actually talked?”
Portia was fixed against the door as if glued there. “Of course I do. That’s why this whole thing is so absurd. No one marries a person they have met only a handful of times.”
“But such very interesting meetings.” He poured the wine and came over to offer her a glass.
After a moment, Portia took it and drank, hoping to steady her nerves. She was trapped here with Bryght, but at least it was a study not a bedroom. The only furniture was two upholstered chairs by the fire, some small tables, a desk, and many bookshelves. The shelves were not filled with elegant leather-bound philosophers, however, but with ledgers, bundles of papers, and almanacs.
It seemed businesslike and that was a safe thing to focus on rather than his casual attire, his smile, and his overwhelming presence. How could her wretched body be shivering with excitement just to be in a room with this man?
Seeking a commonplace topic of conversation, she walked over to the desk. “What were you doing here?”
“Putting my affairs in order.”
Her hand flinched in the act of touching a paper. “This doesn’t look like a will.”
“No. It’s actually details of some investigations to do with guano.” At her questioning look, he said, “Bird droppings.”
Portia turned away sharply. “There’s no need to make fun of me, my lord. I apologize for my vulgar curiosity.”
“I am not making fun.” He was behind her then, taking her cloak. She turned, but it was gone and in truth it had been too hot for this room.
“Portia,” he said gently, “we do need to talk. Come sit by the fire. I promise, I have no evil intentions.”
She allowed herself to be placed in a chair by the fire and sipped the wine. The lightest touch of his hand on her arm had been like fire, but she must remember that he didn’t want to marry her. He had withdrawn his offer, even at danger to his life.
“Perhaps I should apologize,” she said. “Your brother implied that I am the cause of your troubles, my lord, and he is right.” She looked up seriously. “That’s why I had to do something. Neither you nor Fort are to blame for this. It would not be fair for you to fight.”
He had taken the opposite chair and lounged there, far too beautiful in the firelight for her composure. “You are not blameless. But your brother takes the greater share. And if Fort and I fight, it will be little to do with you. The quarrel goes deeper than that.”
“What quarrel?”
“Our families have been at odds for years. The old earl hated Rothgar. Of course, Rothgar is the sort of man the old earl despised—despite everything he was a genuine prude—but they clashed on other matters. Rothgar was one of the few willing to take on Walgrave, the Incorruptible.”
Portia sipped her wine, the commonplace nature of this conversation soothing her. “But Fort isn’t like his father. He’s hardly a prude and I doubt he even shared his politics. Why would the feud continue?”
“Perhaps there’s a tendency to offer reverence for the dead by continuing their causes….” After a moment, he added, “The trouble was exacerbated by matters to do with my youngest brother and his bride, Lady Chastity Ware. You must know Chastity.”
“Yes, a little. But the earl’s daughters were guarded and not permitted to mingle much with lesser mortals. Did Fort not want your brother to marry his sister?”
“Not particularly, but you must have heard of the scandal that surrounded Chastity. That she was caught with a man in her bed?”
“But it was all a mistake, I understand.”
“Indeed it was, but it took a great deal of maneuvering to establish that. Particularly as her father had spread the lie to begin with.”
