‘Ah, I see.’ Rawden’s hands fisted. ‘So this is all my doing, is it? But it turned out to your advantage, did it not? You managed to trap yourself a nice husband. And do not lecture me on honour, a woman who duped my poor brother….’
‘I duped no one. I cared for Will.’
‘I do not believe you,’ said Rawden. ‘He is dead, yet you are not even in mourning garb. So much for caring for him. I think you convinced Will you were in love with him, and he was too honourable to leave you stranded before going off to war.’
‘I did not have to convince him of anything. Your brother declared his love for me. He sought me out. It was Will who pursued me.’
Rawden shook his head. ‘That was not the Will that I knew.’
‘Is it so hard to believe that a man might love me?’ she cried.
‘No,’ he spat. ‘But that is not the point.’
Looking at her, Rawden could well believe that any man could fall for the lovely Miss Howden at first sight. She was infinitely protectable with that anguished look on her wide-eyed face, her stunning, fiery hair and the blush to her cheeks. She was all delicacy and softness, just waiting for a strong man to offer his protection and claim her innocence.
Rawden’s lip curled in a sneer. ‘My brother’s adoration was your salvation from poverty, was it not? Have you not been spurned by the suitors in the ton for your lack of dowry and fortune? I made enquiries before I called on you, you see.’
‘You may judge my character as wanting without knowing me, but know this, Earl Voss. I prayed for your brother’s safe return and grieved at his death, not because of the ruin of my own prospects but because he was fine and young and did not deserve that fate. And I had to learn it from an obituary in the newspaper. It was there, in black and white, with no warning, shattering my hopes.’
‘Is that so?’
‘Had we married, you would have been family, and I would have had to endure your company. But William is gone, and he is not coming back, so I do not need to put up with you.’ She wiped away tears. ‘I have endured much these last weeks, but I will not stand for your insults. You may leave, Earl Voss, for I am heartily sick of appeasing men’s cruelty.’
How dare she dismiss him when he had come to help her? Gripped by anger, Rawden took Grace Howden by the shoulders and put his face in hers.
‘Maybe I did not express myself well, but I have a right to the truth. My accusation is not baseless. When we met, you were alone, outside, in the dark. Not very ladylike behaviour. Did I not just see Caville Sharp leave this house? Is he not a notorious rake and seducer? Are you not in desperate circumstances? Put all that together, and is it such a stretch to think your honour for sale, Miss Howden? After all, you let me do what I wanted that night at the rout.’
Her lip quivered, and Rawden let go of her, regretting the harshness of his words. But his regret was painfully dispelled in the next instant when Grace Howden slapped his face soundly.
Rawden grabbed her hand before she could withdraw it. ‘Don’t ever do that again,’ he snarled.
‘Don’t ever impugn my honour again.’
‘Well now, that just goes to show what a little alley cat you really are,’ said Rawden, rubbing his cheek, which stung like the blazes. ‘You have some nerve to hit me, woman.’
‘Why, because I am a penniless nobody, and you are so high and mighty?’
‘No, because if you had the slightest understanding of my character, you might find I will hit you back.’
‘Go on then. Punish me for having your brother’s love. Do your worst. I care not. Hit me, and then get out.’
Rawden stared down into her anguished face, her lips inches from his own, his chest pressed to hers. How had it come to this? He had not expected her to be so lovely nor to be the young woman from whom he had stolen a kiss. He had come to get the measure of her, but that kiss was still seared on his memory as sweet and exciting. It sparked a passion he could not forget, making him want to possess and devour her and rip away her pretence of innocence.
‘The face of an angel,’ Will had gasped at the end, and Grace Howden was undeniably pretty, in a tragic kind of way. There were dark circles beneath her eyes. Her face had lost its roundness from the summer, and was pale and gaunt, and held undeniable suffering. He had meant to carefully sound her out but Caville Sharp’s appearance had sparked unreasonable jealousy and brought his calm crashing down. And she looked at him with such revulsion that Rawden hated himself.
This would not do. Rawden released her and stepped back. ‘Forgive me. I did not mean to lay hands on you.’
‘I think you should go,’ she whimpered, as if all the fight had gone out of her.
‘I cannot. I must tell you of William.’ He stared down at the swirl of blue and red in the Persian rug. ‘He made me promise with his dying breath.’
‘You were with him when he died?’ she gasped.
‘Yes.’ He looked up into wide hazel eyes shining with tears. She was either a good actress or genuinely distressed. ‘Will was severely wounded. I held his hand as he slipped away.’
She put her hands to her stomach and made a sound between a cry and a moan. ‘Oh, that is a relief. I had pictured him dying alone on some foreign field. But it is such a comfort to know he had you with him.’
Rawden shut his eyes to banish the memory of blood, so much blood, and the cries of dying men, the squalor, the stink of fear. He swallowed hard, and when he opened them again, she was watching him intently, tears rolling down her cheeks. He concentrated on the hazel depths of her lovely eyes to stop himself from falling apart.
