She knew. Without words, she saw it in his shocked face, and a lump of pain almost choked her.
“Oh, how silly! I’m carried away by this silly betrothal business. It’s so late—”
She was half out of bed when he caught her arm and pulled her back.
“Genni, love! I would if I could. I have to marry money.”
Bitterness exploded. “Forwhat?For another set of diamond buttons? For your doxies and bastards? I slipped into the folly of thinking you meant it when you said we’d be together. I know better now.” She pulled against his hold. “Let go of me!”
She fought him but he conquered her, pinning her down on the bed. “Listen to me. The jewels and the gold are necessary for court, and court is necessary for survival. We’re on the brink of ruin, Especially because of Molly Carew.”
“Good for her!” she spat. “You probably promised her the earth, too.”
“Blast your eyes, I did not! I’ve never promised a woman more than I will do. Including you. Genni, sweetheart”—his voice softened—“I hoped you’d become my mistress. A permanent mistress, with a house, a carriage—everything you could desire.”
Her stomach rebelled. “What I desire, my lord, is ahusband.A true husband, a loving home, a safe, secure world into which to bringlegitimatechildren.”
“I thought you a kindred spirit.”
“You were wrong. Let me go.”
He moved off her and she scrambled away, grabbing for clothing. She heard the curtain rings rattle and turned at bay as she struggled into her shift.
He’d pulled on his breeches. “Barbary pirates,” he stated. “A wanton response to kisses. A familiarity with men’s chests. A bold way with words. Don’t claim to be a violated saint!”
Dear God, he saw her as another Molly Carew.
She managed to hook her stays up the front, whichwasn’t easy with the laces still tight. “I’m sure you were dreadfully misled. This is all my fault. Just help me dress so I can get out of here. You don’t need to be afraid,” she threw at him. “I’m not a Molly Carew. I would die before trying to hold a man who doesn’t want me.”
He handed her the petticoat and she stepped into it and tied it at the waist. She was fighting tears, but one escaped, running down her cheek. She dashed it away.
He had her dress ready and she shrugged into it, fastening the clasp at the waist. She was still in her stockings. After all this, she was still in her stockings! She went to her shoes and put them on.
She turned to the mirror to see a blowsy wanton, her thick hair a tangle. She grabbed his comb and dragged it painfully through knots. She had to restore order. No one must ever know.
He took the comb from her and held her shoulders. “I’m truly very sorry if I misled you. Believe me, I care. More deeply than I should. I made a serious mistake, but I’ll do my best to save you from disaster. Sit.”
Genova obeyed, mostly because her knees were failing her. He began to gently tease the tangles out of her hair. That gentleness was perhaps the cruelest blow. He did care. But under his coldhearted code, that weighed very lightly in the balance.
She’d come here knowing this, but she’d put the blindfold on herself and raced to ruin.
She kept her eyes on her hands and rolled the ill-fated diamond. She longed to take it off, but even in her distracted state she knew that would be exactly the wrong thing to do. Their split must be in public, not here.
He was drawing the comb through her hair now. It was, as always, soothing. She swallowed tears, accepting her own responsibility.
She knew her free-spirited ways gave people an impression of improper boldness, and why on earth hadshe said that about naked chests? What was a man to think? He wouldn’t consider shipboard life.
She’d responded to his kisses like a wicked woman from the start, without a scrap of maidenly modesty. He’d not forced her into his bed, or seduced her with promises. She’d left the ballroom willing to make love to him and he knew that.
He gathered her hair on the top of her head and pushed pins in, as deftly as the finest maid. He even found and added the discarded spray of silk roses. She looked in the mirror. Not up to Regeanne’s standards, but it would do.
She stood, putting all her purpose into being calm. She wouldn’t flee this room like a devastated virgin, even if she was one. Thank heaven, thank heaven, for a fragile maidenhead.
She found her fan and slipped the ribbon on her wrist, then checked that she’d left no other evidence. Evidence! The rumpled bed and sweet, mysterious smell would tell the servants someone had been his lover.
Not who, however.
Though the thought choked her, she’d have to return to the party and hope no one had noticed their absence.
