Somber was the lady’s natural state. Her iron-straight black hair and waxen pallor did not recommend her, nor did her abilities as a conversationalist, but her intrepidity called to him like a primal mating call.
His gaze stayed locked on a masterfully composed Daria.
“…which holy estate Christ adorned and beautified with his presence…”
He’d believed stoical to be heronlystate.
“…and first miracle that he wrought…”
She’d gone and proven him wrong in the best possible way.
She may be still now. But the game was up. She’d revealed her hand, and the truth couldn’t be concealed. The curious woman he’d taken as emotionally detached was anything but.
As Lord Lyon droned on from theBook of Prayers, Argyll reveled in his newfound good fortune. Under the very even surface of his raven-haired bride dwelled a passionate, fiery creature to be tamed. Argyll drew a measured breath in through his nose.
She was as hot as a banked fire, just needing to be stirred.And I am the man to so stir her.As those flames caught, his lust snarled awake.
This morn, she’d come alive in her full-throated defense of Argyll. Granted, on his undeserved account. Every charge levered by his family and friends was the bloody honesty he appreciated them for. No person, neither man nor woman, readily exposed themselves to shame. They just did not.
Certainly, there’d never been one amongst the prideful lot he kept company with.
Daria was the one. A rarity in so many ways, ineveryway. She almost revealed she’d asked him to marry her. No, if it weren’t for his interruption, shewouldhave.
She’d been about to lay herself all the way open and tell them she’d asked Argyll to marry her.
And for it, she’d been met with a debacle of a service. One that Lyon, Kilburn, and, hell, even the lady’s own sister turned into a farce. It mattered not that order had been restored—
“…to be honourable among all men and…and….”
Argyll’s vision narrowed to a pinprick.
The drunkard better get himself to rights.
“…nor taken in hand, unadvisedly, lightly, or wantonly, to satisfy men’s carnal l-lusts and appetites, like b-b-brute beasts that have no understand—ha-ha—”
The bible slipped from Lord Lyon’s shaking fingers and hit the floor with a formidablethwackas the fellow descended into a paroxysm of amusement, with Kilburn joining in.
At his side, Daria remained stoic through great humiliation.
Rage tore through Argyll’s veneer of civility.
“Bloody hell, that is enough!” he thundered. “I said enough.”
He needn’t have bothered with the second warning. A deathly still had already blanketed the room.
A vein at his temple throbbed.
Not once had he lost control. Not as a lad. Not as a man. Not as a lover.
Never.
Argyll braced his hands behind his back and breathed.
“Let me be clear. The nextguestin this room to make light, laugh, or so much as crack a smile…” The glacial look he gave the room, the very one he’d been beaten by the late duke until perfected. “You will rue the day.” Argyll bunched his hands behind his back. “The same goes for interruptions…”
The rest of that order dwindled as his future sister-in-law shot a hand up like an eager-to-please student in the schoolroom.
“Yes?” he said awkwardly.
