Marcus stopped abruptly. “It was I who was cast aside.”
Elizabeth backed up tighter against the railing. “For good reason.”
His lips twisted in a cynical smile. “You will receive me when I come to call, Elizabeth. You will drive out with me in the afternoons and accompany me to events such as these. I will not be turned away again.”
The cold marble baluster froze her hands through her gloves and sent shivers up her arms. Despite the chill she felt hot, flushed. “Are you not satisfied with the numbers of women who fawn over you?”
“No,” he replied with his habitual arrogance. “Satisfaction will come when you burn for me, when I invade your every thought and every dream. One day your infatuation will be so consuming that every breath you take apart from me will sear your lungs. You will give me whatever I desire, whenever and however I desire it.”
“I will give you nothing!”
“You will give me everything.” He closed the small gap between them. “You will yield all to me.”
“Have you no shame?” Tears welled and clung to her lashes. He was implacable and the direness of her situation struck home with cruel effect. “After what you did to me, must you seduce me as well? Is my utter destruction the only thing that will appease you?”
“Damn you.” His head dropped down to hers, his mouth brushing across her lips in a feather-light kiss. “I never thought to have you,” he breathed. “I never expected that you would ever be free of your marriage, but you are. And I will have what was promised to me long ago.”
Releasing the baluster, Elizabeth placed her hands against his waist to ward him off. The firm ridges of his stomach beneath her palms brought a raw, sweet ache to her body. “I will fight you with everything I have. I urge you to desist.”
“Not until I have what I want.”
“Leave her alone, Westfield.”
Sagging with relief at the sound of the familiar voice, Elizabeth glanced up and saw William descending the staircase.
Marcus backed away with a vicious curse. Straightening, he shot his old friend a fulminating glare. Elizabeth exploited his distraction, taking the opportunity to slip past him. Running into the garden, she disappeared around a corner of yew hedges. He stepped forward, determined to go after her.
“I wouldn’t,” William said with soft menace, “If I were you.”
“Your timing is unfortunate, Barclay.” Marcus swallowed a growl of frustration, knowing his old friend would relish any opportunity to fight with him. The situation worsened as spectators, alerted by the carrying tone of angry voices and the rigid set of William’s body, lined the edge of the balcony anticipating noteworthy gossip.
“When you desire Lady Hawthorne’s company in the future, Westfield, be aware that she is indisposed to you indefinitely.”
A statuesque redhead pushed her way through the throng of curious onlookers and ran down the steps toward them.
“Lord Westfield. Barclay. Please!” She clutched William’s arm. “This is not the venue for such private discourse.”
William broke off eye contact with Marcus and glanced at his lovely wife with a grim smile. “No need to fret. All is well.” Lifting his gaze, he gestured to George Stanton who left the balcony and moved quickly to join them. “Please find Lady Hawthorne and escort her home.”
“I would be honored.” Stanton inched his way carefully between the two angry men before picking up speed and melding into the garden shadows.
Marcus sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “You intercede based on a false assumption, Barclay.”
“I will not debate the matter with you,” William countered, all trace of civility gone. “Elizabeth has refused to see you and you will respect her wishes.” He gently removed Margaret’s hand from his sleeve and stepped closer, his shoulders taut with repressed anger. “This will be your only warning. Keep your distance from my sister or I will call you out.” The crowd above erupted in a series of muted gasps.
Marcus steadied his breathing with effort. Level-headedness had seen him through many volatile situations, but this time he made no effort to defuse the tension. He had a mission, as well as his own agenda. Both would require a great deal of time spent in Elizabeth’s company. Nothing could be allowed to stand in his way.
Meeting William’s challenge head-on, he stepped the last few paces until they were only inches apart. His voice softened ominously. “Interfering in my association with Elizabeth would not be wise. There is much left to be resolved between us and I will not have you intruding. I would never deliberately harm her. If you doubt my word, name your second now. My position is firm and worth whatever risk you present to me.”
“You would risk your life to proceed?”
“Without question.”
A weighted pause fell between them as they each measured the other carefully. Marcus made his resolve clear. He would not be deterred, threats of death or otherwise.
In return, William’s gaze penetrated with its intensity. Over the years they had managed an icy public association. With William’s marriage a stark contrast to his own bachelor’s life, they’d rarely had the occasion to exchange words. Marcus lamented that lack. He often missed the companionship of his friend, who was a good man. But William had passed judgment too easily and Marcus would not bruise his pride by pleading a case to deaf ears.
“Shall we return to the festivities, Lady Barclay?” William said finally, the set of his shoulders relaxing a tiny fraction.