“Your secondary wine cellar. Of course.” She turned in a circle, then faced him again, surprise joining the anger in her eyes. “A four-poster bed? It’s—”
“It’s yours from the gold room. I knew you liked it.”
“All right.” She folded her arms across her lovely bosom. “I suppose I should ask why you’ve put me in the secondary wine cellar.”
Finally, a reasonable question. Lucien gestured at the groom and footman. “Thompkinson, upstairs. Vincent, go drive the coach around a bit more. And make sure you lock the doors on your way out.”
The groom doffed his hat and exited by the stairs leading into the garden, while the footman fled into the main wine cellar. Given Alexandra’s sharp tongue, both were no doubt relieved to have escaped unscathed. Lucien steeled himself for the argument to come.
“Interesting,” Alexandra said, her voice dripping with cynicism. “Now that you’ve had your servants help kidnap me, you send them away so they won’t hear the explanation. Or do they know it already?”
“They know that I’m concerned for your safety, and that given your strong independent streak, holding you here even against your will is the only way to ensure it.”
“And why are you concerned for my safety, pray tell? Oh, it’s not that Lady Welkins prattle again, is it? I’ll be perfectly safe in Hampshire.” She glanced around the dark cellar again. “Safer than here, apparently. No one has ever kidnapped me before.”
“I’m glad to be your first—again.”
Alexandra blushed. “You’re drunk, aren’t you?”
“Only a little. I’ve been up most of the night moving furniture and fixing locks and removing escape implements.”
“Forgive me for not being flattered, my lord, but—”
“You called me Lucien a moment ago.”
“You’d frightened me out of my skin. Now, do stop this nonsense and let me go.”
“Not until you agree to listen to reason.”
She put her hands on her hips. “About what?”
“About marrying me.”
Alexandra actually laughed, though there was nothing resembling humor in the sound. “You kidnapped me in order to convince me that you’re someone I can trust and rely on? Did someone hit you on the head, Lord Kilcairn?”
He frowned. “That is enough of that. You keep telling me what my motivations are for wanting to marry you. First I’m tired of looking for a wife, then I’m trying to protect you, and then I’m trying to thwart my family. Did I miss anything?”
“Now you’ll want me to marry you to keep me from testifying against you for kidnapping.”
Damn, she was clever. He moved closer to her, but she backed away. Apparently he wasn’t going to win her over by making love to her—not today, anyway. “All of those might have had something to do with giving me the idea, but none of them are my reason for wanting you to be my wife.”
“Please, enlighten me, then.”
Thank God he hadn’t sobered up from last night yet. Otherwise, he never would have been able to spit out the words. “I want you to marry me because I love you, Alexandra.”
She stared at him for a long moment, suspicion and shock and anger warring with one another in her turquoise eyes. “You keep telling me words are just that: words, used to manipulate people into doing what you want. Coming from you, ‘love’ is just another word, Lucien. You don’t believe in love. You told me so.”
“I was an idiot.”
“You’re still an idiot. Open that door and let me go.”
“No. You’re safe here, and I’m going to convince you that I’m sincere. Fiona and Rose both think you’re at Miss Grenville’s Academy, as does your friend Lady Victoria.”
Slowly she sat on the edge of the bed. “And how are you going to convince me?”
“I’m going to remove every damned obstacle you’re using as a prop to disbelieve me. That’s how.”
Alexandra shrugged. “It sounds simple enough, I suppose. But you might consider that I don’t need another reason to dislike the idea of marriage to an arrogant, cynical beast like you who has no qualms about destroying everyone else’s life to prove a point only he cares about.”
