Page 46 of Only Scandal Will Do

His brow furrowed and confusion puckered the fine lines around his eyes. “Katar...God, this is ridiculous. I cannot call you Lady Dalbury when we are in bed!” He ran a hand through his hair, causing the ends to stick up rakishly.

“Then there will be no hardship for you tonight, my lord.”

“No hardship!” His dark eyes widened. “You cannot believe that we will not... But we

are married now.”

“Yes. That we are.” She stared at him, unwavering. “But not by my choice.”

“You chose to wager.”

“I chose to save my brother’s life. Can you not see that?” Kat shook her head, unsurprised by his lack of understanding. “What else could I do?”

Dalbury stood, mouth open, searching for an answer.

“None of this has been my doing,” she continued, her voice rising in indignation, “but I am the one who must pay for it. So now, Lord Dalbury, it is your turn to pay. You seem to like purchasing things. And I have turned into a canny bargain, haven’t I? Purchased for a lifetime instead of just an evening.” Her face heated at the memory of his thousand pound bid. She turned to the fire to hide her humiliation.

“But Ka--Lady Dalbury. Despite those concerns, we are married under the law.” The warmth of his hands on her shoulders rivaled that of the fire. “Would it be so truly bad to spend the night with me?” His whisper tickled her ear, sent shivers down her neck. With his thumbs, he kneaded small circles at her nape, and the tension there released.

Weariness from the day’s stresses overwhelmed her, and she closed her eyes. She wanted nothing more than to melt into his strong arms, feel them surround her, so safe and secure. But it was a lie and she must face the truth.

He cared nothing for her. She was nothing more than a means to an end for him. If she relented, he would use her and be on his merry way to the next woman. Kat retreated from the edge of surrender. Back stiff, she jerked out of his grasp and staggered toward the fireplace. She whirled to face Dalbury. His astonished face transformed from caring into the impatient lines of a thwarted hunter. “Come here, Katarina.”

She raised her chin and stared at him.

Dalbury shook his head and released a loud sigh. “Will you please come here, Lady

Dalbury?”

Still she did not waver, but gave a single shake of her head.

“Will you at least give this a chance?”

“And if I say no, will you force me?” The implication of her words must have sunk in because Dalbury’s face drained of color.

“You think I would do that?” He pierced her with his gaze, searching for a denial.

“You attempted it before, and since I have only known you for three days, I cannot be sure--”

“I did not try to force you, madam!” Dalbury drew himself up to his full height, towering over her. “I was under the impression you were playing your part in that wretched scene.”

“And do you think I am playing a part now, my lord?” The icy question seemed to stop the marquess’s protest cold. Heart in her throat, she continued. “I assure you I am not. Just as I can assure you that I will not come willingly to your bed, tonight or any night.”

The lines in Dalbury’s face hardened at her avowal and his cynic’s mask crashed into place. “Indeed, my dear?” he replied. “Why do I find myself doubting that? As I recall, in the past three days you have said the same thing about dancing with me and marrying me, and both have come to pass.” His eyes glittered with challenge. “I look forward eagerly to proving you a liar once again. My lady.” He executed a perfect bow, spun on his heel and strode through the doorway at the opposite end of her bedchamber, slamming the door so hard the pictures on the walls rattled.

Kat stared at the door and released the breath she had been holding. She felt weak all over, and took two steps toward the chaise before the floor rushed up to meet her. Collapsing with a loud thump as her legs gave out, all she could do was sit and wonder what to do next.

From the direction of Lord Dalbury’s rooms came the muffled sound of breaking glass.

The door behind her flew open, startling her so badly, she cried out and tried to crawl away from this new menace. Margery burst in, face flushed, brandishing a poker.

“Has he hurt you, my lady?” She gasped, and darted a glance around the room, seeking an attacker.

“Margery, my God. Have you been in there the whole time?”

“Yes, my lady. Lord Manning give me strict instructions to listen and see if his lordship was harsh with you.” She peered at Kat, apparently seeking evidence of bruising. “Did he lay hands on you?”

“No. Here, help me up.” Grasping the maid’s hands, she rose on unsteady legs. “Now, help me out of this gown and bring my night rail.”