“And you are a privileged young woman with too much time on your hands,” he said flatly. “Find another little hobby to occupy yourself with, my lady, and stop meddling in my business. If you continue to stand in the way of progress, I cannot be held accountable for my actions.”
Until that moment, she’d never understood the meaning of seeing red. All her life, she’d struggled to be taken seriously—to not have her abilities and ideas discounted because of her gender and age. Godwin’s patronizing tone caused a scarlet cloud to fog her brain.
“Is that a threat?” she gritted out. “You, sir, are no gentleman.”
His lips twisted. “Never said I was, duchess.”
“Do not address me in that manner. I am not a duchess.”
“Right. You are merely the daughter of a marquess. A lady with a reputation to protect.”
His wintry-green gaze was that of a marauder: cold and shrewd. She shivered, knowing that he was assessing her weaknesses so that he could exploit them.
Her pulse racing, she said, “If you’re insinuating that you intend to blackmail me?—”
“I’m not a man who insinuates. I say it, or I don’t. And I am not going to blackmail you.”
“Because you are above extortion?”
“No.” He shrugged, her insult pinging harmlessly off his steel-clad arrogance. “Because anything I would use to blackmail you would incriminate me as well. I have no desire to pay the matrimonial piper for our little indiscretions. Delightful as they were.”
Pay the matrimonial piper? While she didn’t account herself a prideful lady, she’d had dozens of proposals since her come-out, from men of rank and wealth. They’d considered her a prize, not some dashed price to pay. Moreover, Godwin’s trivialization of the intimacies they’d shared was more than a little insulting.
Her fingernails bit into her palms. “I wouldn’t marry you if?—”
“Is it necessary to finish that sentence? We both know how it ends.”
“You are the most insufferable man I’ve ever met.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“I hate you!”
“Yes, well, I have that effect on people. Listen, sweetheart.” His gaze hardened even as his voice strangely gentled. “You don’t want to take on a man like me. You’re meant for better things. For ballrooms and blue-blooded blokes who’ll serenade you with poetry and shower you with jewels. Why do you care about a stupid country spa? Go back to London like a good girl and find another hobby. Leave the dirty business of life to others better suited for it.”
A. Good. Girl?
Something in her snapped. Before she knew it, her hand was flying toward his face. He caught her wrist in an iron grip. She swung with her other hand, and he grabbed that one too. The next thing she knew, he’d backed her up against a wall, pinning her hands above her head. Although she struggled, he kept her manacled in place.
Her bosom heaving, she glared up at him. “Let me go.”
“You don’t want to play games with me,” he warned.
“I’m not playing games. And this isn’t some little hobby,” she hissed. “Miss Letty is my friend, and I will not let you destroy her birthright. Why do you want her spa, anyway? A man with your predatory nature surely has bigger game to hunt unless…unless the spa and its waters are worth more than you’ve let on?”
“No one will pay her more for that damned place than I am willing to,” he said with soft menace. “My reasons for wanting to acquire it are my own. Now I am telling you politely to stay out of my way.”
“This is politely?” Pointedly, she tugged on her wrists, pushing her face into his. “You’re nothing but a brute!”
“I am a brute.” He leaned over her, as if to prove his point. “Which is why you ought to heed me, duchess.”
“For the last time, do not call me that!”
“Stop acting like a spoiled brat whining about a lost toy, and I will.”
The unfairness of his accusation made blood rush in her ears.
“You’re the most arrogant, heartless, callous bounder?—”
