my reputation,” she told him. “The servant who observed me getting into your carriage has been paid handsomely for his silence. No one will ever know what happened except for us. But you must convince my brother there is no need to worry about me carrying your child.”
Of course Ravenscroft believed Decker’s seed was already planted in Jo’s womb. Decker had made certain of it, and he had no intention of disabusing the blighter of that false belief.
He clenched his jaw. “That is the reason you came racing to me just now and pulled me into this library? To tell me I should throw you to the wolves? What manner of man do you think me, to suppose I would do that?”
Her lush lips parted. “You will not be throwing me to the wolves. Julian was angry yesterday, but he is calmer today. He will not force me into a marriage, despite what he said last night. You need not sacrifice yourself for my sake.”
How misguided she was. He’d had the night to ruminate upon his options. And no matter how many times he turned over the facts and possible outcomes in his mind, he could not deny that the mere thought of her marrying another man—ever—filled him with the urge to claim her as his own.
No, the plain truth was that as much as he did not want to marry, as much as he did not want a wife, he could not allow himself to walk away from Lady Josephine Danvers. He wanted her. If she were to become his wife, he could finally have her. And when he tired of her, as he inevitably would, he would not interfere in her life. She would be free to pursue what she wished, and so would he.
The arrangement would not be an entirely unwanted one, aside from the marriage bit. Having her in his bed would sweeten the unexpected bitterness of having to wed. There were only two impediments to achieving his goal at the moment—Jo and her irate brother.
He took her other hand in his, drawing her nearer to him, and studied her beautiful face. “Marriage to me would not be such a horrible fate, I think. I have no need of your dowry; the money will be yours to dispense with as you wish. I have no need for heirs. You would have your independence, and we could cross off the rest of the items on your list.”
A frown furrowed her brow. “But you do not want to marry. You are a notorious bachelor.”
He dipped his head, bringing their lips nearer. “I do not want to marry, it is true. But neither do I want you to marry another man. That leaves us with only one solution to our current quandary, does it not?”
She blinked. “What if I do not want to marry you, Decker?”
Well, there was always that.
It was his turn to frown. “You do not want to marry me?”
She fretted with her lower lip. “That is not what I said.”
“Perhaps you would prefer to wed a lord,” he said grimly. “Someone like Hungtingdon or Quenington?”
He would never be able to change who he was. He was the bastard son of the Earl of Graham, and no matter how much he resented his arrogant prick of a sire and the fact that they shared blood, it would forever shape his life.
“No.” She shook her head, her gaze searching his. “There is no other man I would want to be my husband, if I must marry.”
He snorted. “That is hardly a commendation.”
“I—”
“Hush,” he interrupted. “Someone is coming.”
A flurry of footsteps beyond the library door reached him. Decker had a suspicion they were about to be interrupted once more by the Irate Brother of Doom.
He stole a swift kiss from her lips. Just one, and over far too quickly. “Allow me to handle matters with your brother. I will speak to you afterward, if he permits it.”
She looked as if she wanted to argue, but Decker released her hands and took a propriety-observing three steps in retreat. The library door burst open in the next second, revealing the Earl of Ravenscroft.
If glares could kill, Decker would be lying in a pool of his own blood on the Axminster at that very moment.
“Mr. Decker, what the hell are you doing in my library?” he demanded. “And Josephine, if you believe I will not make good on my threat of sending you to a nunnery, you are wrong.”