Lady Rosabella's Ruse - By Ann Lethbridge Page 0,70

on to like a child clinging to its mother, was all her own creation.

A myth.

‘I simply tell the truth,’ he said.

She would not let him destroy her beliefs. ‘You are wrong.’

Another twist of his lips. ‘All right, then, name your price for this marriage. Anything in my power to give.’

What she wanted most in the world was to know her sisters would have a future. Have the chance to choose a man for love, not out of desperation. For Sam to see a doctor without fear of the debtors’ prison looming over their shoulders. Could she give up their futures while she searched for the perfect man? A man who would love her back, when she had so much love inside her to give.

It wouldn’t be fair to them, when she could solve everything right now.

And for her there would be physical passion with this man. Nights like tonight. She’d been attracted to him from the first, and if what she’d thought was love was merely infatuation, if she never let it become more than that, wouldn’t it be more than bearable? Wouldn’t it be more than many women of her class experienced?

He must have seen the weakening of her resolve, her acceptance, because he stroked her shoulder, a sort of solace because he knew she’d give in.

He looked just too smug about her succumbing to his superior male logic. A hot buzz built up in her veins. Anger. The same anger that had driven her to the moneylender, so she would not have to listen to the doctor lecture her about the money she owed.

An anger tainted with the desire to salvage what little pride she had left.

‘You spoke of giving me whatever I wanted in exchange for this marriage. These are my terms, then. Pay my debts. They are considerable. Pay for a come-out for each of my sisters and provide them with a reasonable marriage settlement and I will agree to be your wife. But if there is to be no faithfulness on your side, then there is no need for any of this.’ She gestured vaguely at the bed.

As he stared at her, the gleam in his eyes an acknowledgement that he’d won, a slow seductive smile curved his beautiful mouth. Her insides clenched, unable to resist his allure.

‘I will agree to all but the last,’ he murmured. ‘As my wife, I expect you in my bed.’ The smile broadened, became wicked. ‘I promise I won’t force myself upon you, but I defy you to resist me.’

Her unruly stomach tumbled over. Resisting him seemed to have been out of the question from the moment she saw him on Lady Keswick’s terrace. But she would not submit without a fight. ‘Nothing you can do could induce me into your bed.’

‘Are you so sure?’ He bent his head and brushed her lips with his. Softly. Sweetly. Her heart tumbled with longing.

Longing for more than physical attraction.

It was not to be. And for the sake of her sisters, she must endure.

She turned her face away. ‘Very well. If that is part of the price, I will agree. But I want our agreement in writing.’

He laughed. ‘Good for you. It seems you have learned something after all.’

Instead of learning about love, she had learned the art of striking a bargain, if she dared trust him to keep his word. Her father hadn’t kept his word and she’d trusted him. A bitter taste filled her mouth. ‘Then once the contract is signed the matter is settled.’

Cold enveloped her.

Garth really couldn’t blame her for her misgivings or her wariness. He’d done his best over the years to ensure that even the most desperate of matchmaking mothers wouldn’t accept him, even if he crawled on his belly.

Fortunately, she’d shown him the cards in her hand and he’d played to them. Debts.

Large enough to make her desperate.

Even so, she’d bravely held her ground for longer than he had expected. Was there something behind her reluctance? Had Penelope revealed the circumstances of his birth? Mark knew. Had he told his wife? His back teeth ground together. Dammit, he didn’t care if she knew or not. The agreement was set.

She could think what she liked of him. He’d had his unworthiness drummed into him since he was a child. No woman had the power to hurt him, because he didn’t allow himself to feel. And if he produced a son as a result of his carelessness, then he’d find another way to make it up to