Haunted by the Earl's Touch - By Ann Lethbridge Page 0,96

wanted Mary in his bed.

She deserved so much more.

She certainly deserved better than a bastard for a husband who had not protected what was his. His fists opened and closed. Fear squirmed like a live thing in his gut. He pushed his roiling emotions behind a wall of ice the way he’d learned to do as a boy. At some time in the future they might bear closer examination, but not now, when it would take all his strength to do the right thing.

Squaring his shoulders, he strolled into the room. Her quick smile warmed him like the midsummer sun, but he shielded his heart in icy determination.

‘What is wrong?’ she asked.

Already she understood him too well. ‘Word from Templeton has arrived.’

Her gaze sharpened.

‘The will is undeniably flawed. He signed his father’s name, not his own. Two names reversed. So small a mistake, it took ages for anyone to spot it. Whether it was intentional or because of infirmity, we will never know, even though I suspect the latter. Whatever the case, it will not stand.’

She gazed at him for a long moment, beautiful, clear blue eyes revealing the working of a bright intelligence. He could almost see the implications tumbling through her mind.

‘I am not then an heiress who must marry within the year?’ she finally asked.

‘But we will marry,’ he said. ‘The settlements will be generous, you can be sure.’

He waited, his mind, his whole body, alert for some sign as to her response to his announcement. He didn’t expect this to be easy, or go well.

A small crease formed between her finely drawn brows. Her gaze dropped to the still hands in her lap, effectively hiding her thoughts. He wanted to counsel her not to speak precipitously, not to rush to judgement, to consider the advantages, but he had been forcing her to his will from the moment they met. No longer. He didn’t have the right.

She had saved his life.

What he wanted, what he hoped, was that she could conclude that what he suggested was the right choice, the sensible choice.

‘Why?’ she said to her hands. She lifted her gaze. ‘Why should we marry?’

She demanded he argue his case after all.

‘Surely the reason is obvious.’

A blush said she understood his meaning perfectly well. He let go of a sigh of relief. He’d feared she’d balk. Feared it badly enough to hold his breath like a schoolboy longing for a treat.

She shook her head. ‘I won’t do it.’

For a moment, he didn’t believe what he heard. Then realisation hit with the force of a blow, shattering his soul to nothing but shards that pierced his heart in the aftermath.

He strode to stand before her, gazing down into her lovely, sorrowful face. He loomed over her, letting her see his disbelief. But not the damage. Never that. ‘You are not thinking clearly,’ he said.

She rose to her feet, tall, magnificent, her flashing eyes almost on a level with his. An angry goddess about to smite some lesser mortal.

And after the way he’d behaved, it was just. But he wasn’t going to let her go without a fight. ‘Honour demands—’

‘Your honour, not mine. As I told you before, I do not move in circles that bind me to your notions of honour.’ A flicker of comprehension passed across her face. ‘And besides, if the will is broken, then you can no longer claim guardianship. You cannot keep me against my will, or force me to wed you.’

Oh, his Mary was indeed clever.

Only she was not his. And never really had been his. He should have known better than to think, to hope, she might yet find him of some worth. Still, he could not let her go without one more attempt to find common ground.

‘Hear me out, at least,’ he said.

Her eyes were as cold as the grave. ‘Very well.’

‘The tables have turned, yes, but it does not mean we should not marry. I am no woman’s first choice of a father to their children, with my own parentage in doubt, despite my mother’s denial of wrongdoing.’

‘You doubt her.’ She spoke flatly.

‘I just don’t know. She fled. If she was innocent, why would she not have stood her ground?’

‘Sometimes that is the easiest way for a woman.’

He’d made her flee, too. He heard the condemnation in her voice. ‘Think of the advantages. I am wealthy. I can provide for you. Protect you.’ He could see he wasn’t making any headway from the hard expression on her face. He started

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