Behind the Rake's Wicked Wager - By Sarah Mallory Page 0,91

retorted bitterly, ‘It was not my original intention.’

‘I hope you do not blame me for that.’

‘Who else should I blame? It was my cousin’s interest in you that brought me here in the first place.’

She stared at him.

‘I told you at the outset I had no intention of marrying Gerald.’

‘And then you became engaged to him.’

She turned away again, but not before he had seen the shock in her eyes. He might as well have struck her. Remorse flayed him, but it only added to his frustration.

‘You know that was an error.’ She added, with something of her old spirit, ‘But it is not one I intend to repeat.’

‘I am glad to hear it. I pity any man who falls into your clutches.’

He regretted the words immediately, but they had reached the old bridge leading into Bath and the sudden appearance of a barouche made his team shy. He was obliged to give his attention to preventing a collision before he could reply.

‘I beg your pardon, Susannah. I—’

‘Do not speak to me,’ she commanded him in arctic tones. ‘I will not spend another moment in your company. You will set me down immediately, if you please.’

‘The devil I will. You cannot walk alone through this part of the town.’

‘I can do whatever I want!’

‘Do not be so foolish. No lady should walk near the docks, and beyond that are the poorest stews of Bath. Heaven knows what would become of you if I set you down here.’

‘If you will not stop I will jump down.’

‘Oh, no, you won’t.’ He reached out and grabbed her wrist. ‘You are in my care and I shall deliver you to your house.’

‘Your care, my lord, has almost resulted in my ruin on at least two occasions.’

Jasper glanced behind. Morton was sitting in the rumble seat, wooden-faced. He would stake his life on Morton’s discretion, but she must be very angry with him, to speak so in front of a servant.

Susannah tried to shake off his iron grip.

‘Let go of me!’

His hold on her wrist did not weaken. The heat from his fingers burned through her sleeve.

‘Only if you promise that you will not try to jump down. Quickly,’ he growled. ‘I cannot control this team with one hand and if you will not give me your word then I shall instruct Morton to hold you in your seat.’ He showed his teeth. ‘Only think how that would look.’

‘You wouldn’t dare!’

‘Morton—’

‘Very well!’ Hastily and with a burning look of reproach she made her promise. How could she have ever thought him a gentleman!

‘Good.’ He released her and she cradled her wrist in her other hand, convinced she would see a bruise there if she were to peel back her sleeve. ‘Now you will sit still until we reach Royal Crescent. If you move so much as a finger then Morton will lay hands on you, is that understood?’

She sat upright, staring rigidly before her as they picked up speed. The sense of injustice was fanned by the ensuing silence.

‘You are a monster,’ she told him. When that elicited no reply she added, ‘A brutish beast. You should be locked up.’

Still he did not reply. She tried again.

‘I have never known why everyone thinks you so charming. You are a fraud, Lord Markham. You are nothing but a rake. A—a libertine. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. A seducer of innocent females.’

His frown grew blacker with every word she threw at him, but he said nothing until he had guided the curricle into the Crescent and pulled up at her front door.

‘We will continue this conversation inside.’

‘If you think I am going to allow you into my house after this—!’

With a total want of decorum she scrambled out of the curricle and ran up the steps. Unfortunately Gatley had not been prepared for their approach and she was obliged to hammer upon the knocker. Behind her she heard Morton addressing his master.

‘I’ll take ’em back to the stables, shall I, m’lord? You’re in a fair way to ruining their mouths, the way you’ve been jerking at the ribbons.’

Glancing back, she saw that Jasper had jumped down and was even now on the pavement. The door opened and she ran inside, but before she could order Gatley to deny him, Jasper had followed her into the hall.

‘I am afraid Mrs Wilby is not at home,’ offered the butler. ‘She left a message to say she is visiting Lady Gisburne today and after dinner they are going on to