With one long hand and his chin resting upon his raised knee, his lithe body was haloed by the fire.Eleanor had to struggle to keep her breathing even.She told herself it was fear that was trembling through her but was not convinced.Did he know what a stunning picture he made?
Like a breath of sanity she realized he almost certainly did.Nicholas Delaney, she decided, was a man used to playing others like instruments—stirring them to action, chiding them into line, and gentling them to produce the tune of his choosing.
He would not find her so easy to manipulate.
He spoke softly, gazing into the fire.“You are afraid.I can understand that after the experience you had.But I can assure you it will not be that way again.I have no desire to force you.Ever.”
He paused, perhaps to allow her to speak, perhaps to collect his own thoughts.When she remained silent, he turned his head to look at her.“Eleanor, we must talk about this, and it would be easier if you would come over here.”With a smile he added, “If there are to be any hostilities I promise to allow you to return to your present position.”
Eleanor seized on this.“In one breath you promise not to molest me,” she sneered, “and in the next you threaten me.You are despicable.I wish I had never laid eyes on you.”
His brown eyes were calm as he appeared to consider her words.“And be back in your brother’s house?”he queried gently.
After a moment during which Eleanor could think of nothing to say, he continued without apparent artifice.“May I remind you, madam, we are married … for life.It may suit you to live your life in a state of war, but it does not suit me.I am endeavoring to find a modus operandi which will make life bearable for both of us.I am even beginning to harbor hopes there may be some happiness to be found in this arrangement.I, at least, am pleasantly surprised by the partner fate has found for me … even if you are showing more spines than a hedgehog.”
He smiled then, and it took all her resolution not to return the smile and melt into compliance.She commanded herself to remain silent.
“I cannot see any hope for us, however,” he continued in that entrancing voice, “if you intend to shun the physical side of marriage.”
The soft voice had been deceptive.Such plain speaking shocked her.“I have no intention of … But I hardly know you, even though…” Eleanor marshaled her disordered wits.“Surely,” she argued, “the marriage act without love is a kind of rape.”
His smile broadened almost to a grin.“Then rape is a common enough crime, I’m afraid.Let us discuss this, but not across the width of the room.Come and sit in the chair.My parole still holds.”
Drawn as if by a string, Eleanor obeyed and sat facing him.At least she was out of his reach.
“Eleanor,” he said, “I believe you are an intelligent woman.I have watched you today and admired your courage, your quickness.I want to consummate our marriage.”
He had her so bewitched that she didn’t flee at those words.She didn’t move at all.
“I will give you my reasons,” he continued, “and perhaps we can arrive at a rational decision.Though that may be expecting too much of both of us at this moment.”There was a sudden note of weariness in his voice that touched her heart.She felt a strange urge to reach out and smooth his golden hair away from his brow.
He turned away and the leaping flames gilded his profile.“Firstly,” he said, like a teacher laying out a lesson, “as I have said, your reluctance springs from a very natural fear.I doubt, however, if your fear will lessen in the near future by itself.The best cure would be for you to fall in love with me, but that seems unlikely.”She saw his lips curve and his eyes crinkle in what appeared to be genuine humor.“For a start, I’m sure you have far too much sense.Perhaps I could win your regard if I were to woo you thoroughly, but I have a great many matters to attend to during this visit to England and much of my time is already spoken for.In view of this, I think it would be better for us to conquer your fear together.”
He paused for a moment and glanced at her, but Eleanor had no intention of speaking.
“Secondly,” he said, “you may already be carrying a child.If this is so, I will accept it and try to be as good a father as circumstances allow.But I must admit my attitude to it might be different if I could believe it to be my own.”
Eleanor felt shock like a blow.“What?”
He looked at her, alerted by the outrage in her voice.“If we confuse the paternity at this point,” he explained, speaking more quickly, “then I will be free to delude myself if I wish.If you have reason to believe there will be a child.”
“I don’t believe this!”she gasped.“Of course it is your child, you wretched man.What kind of a woman do you think I am?”
He focused completely on her.“Mychild?”
When she would have spoken he held up a hand and took a deep breath.Even through his tan she could see he had paled.“Oh, my God.”
He sank his head wearily on his knees.There was such devastation in him that Eleanor wanted to go to him, to hold him and soothe him.
It was as well she did not try, for he surged to his feet so violently she would have been sent flying.He strode to the dark window.She turned slowly to follow him with her eyes, wondering.Some coals settled, crackling and spitting, and there was a sudden flare of light.
At last he turned, his face altered by a strain she did not understand.“Eleanor,” he said, “I have not been in England for over six months.Three weeks ago I was in Paris.”
She studied him in confusion.It was impossible to doubt words spoken with such certainty.“Then what?Who?”
“Your ravisher was my brother.”
Eleanor struggled to make sense of it.Was this further manipulation?If so, it was skillful beyond her powers of detection.She could swear he had paled to sallow.
