Unable to bear her own thoughts, Purity turned and started to walk again, but Foxford’s hand snagged her arm.
Outrageous!
Chapter Twenty
“You cannot do that,” Purity insisted, already imagining every passerby was watching with interest.
Wrenching her arm free, she whirled away, getting only a few more steps before Foxford caught her again.
She turned on him, feeling feral. If she didn’t have gloves on, she might do him an injury as her mother had taught her in a lesson on dealing with unwanted harassment. A well-placed scratch would buy her freedom. She could always bring her knee up to his manly parts, as her father had suggested to do in a dire emergency, but that seemed extreme.
Besides, this man was her fiancé, and if the marriage occurred, then she didn’t want to unman him to the point they would be unable to have children.
Foxford stared down at her. “Tell me what I can do.”
“You have done enough. Haven’t you made it so we must marry?” she bit out. “Why? Why would you do this to me?”
A shadow crossed his face. He clenched his jaw. She even watched the muscles in his neck flex. None of that helped.
“The Timesis not my fault,” he insisted. “What precisely are you accusing me of?”
“Condemning me to be attached to you,” she said, unable to rein in her intense feelings while trying desperately not to give in to histrionics. Her tone was strangely grating and accusatory. But after all, she was standing on a high bridge over quickly moving water with the Houses of Parliament overshadowing her and arguing with the notorious Bachelor Baron.
“You are opposite to the dream I had for a husband.”Was that clear enough for him?“I want a man with all the social graces, as well as someone who can be loyal and loving.”
“I am all those things,” Foxford insisted, but his tone was more hesitant than adamant.
Purity shook her head. “People don’t change their nature in the space of weeks,” she hissed out the last word.
Foxford came a step closer as if they were in the intimate confines of a drawing room and not in the middle of Westminster Bridge.
“I didn’t need to change, at least not my manners. I have always known which spoon or fork to use. I know how to comport myself in the company of thetonor even the royal family.”
“Liar!” she said. “Then why did you need me to help you catch yourself a wife?”
“It was you!” he declared, throwing his hands in the air, then pointing at her. “It was always you.”
“You are lying!” Purity said again, anguish bringing those tears to her eyes she vowed would not be spilled in public.
“I am not lying. I promise you. Didn’t I behave well enough at the concert?”
She waved that away with a gesture of her hand. “One night listening to music. Even you couldn’t blunder at the theatre.”
“I do not blunder anywhere. Test me, put me through the trials.”
“I don’t need to. This very instant you are causing a scene, proving you don’t understand the rules of polite society.”
“Not fair,” he said. “I tried to visit you at home.”
Sighing, she glanced around her. In truth, no one seemed to care about two people having a row. But she did. “I will allow you to escort me home.”
Without waiting, she began to walk the way she had come.
He fell into step beside her.
“Ask me some blasted questions about manners.”
She pressed her lips tightly. This wasn’t a game. This was her life and her future. And he was a rake, and an uncouth one at that.
