For a moment he looked as though he’d argue the same point. But then he seemed to reconsider.
“Fine,” he said, lifting his good shoulder in resignation. “You’re right. I must be mistaken. I never knew you as a child. You were never the daughter of a whore. All the more reason why you shouldn’t tell the Gramercys anything about this.”
“But I have to,” she whispered. “I must. They deserve to know. They’ve been so kind to me, offered me so much faith. I have to tell them. Today.”
He struggled to his feet. “Then I’ll go with you.”
“No.” She sniffed. “I don’t want you there. I don’t want you anywhere near me.” She jabbed a finger to her breastbone. “I tried to see the best in you, despite all your surliness. I defended you in my heart, even in the face of your callous rejections, and yesterday . . . I was ready to marry you, you heartless man. I foolishly thought I was coming to love you.”
Her voice broke. “And you were lying to me. All along, from the very moment you walked into this village and saw me singing in that borrowed India shawl. You lied to me. You forced me into this joke of a betrothal. You made me a fool in front of all my friends, as well as the people I hoped to call family. All this, when you knew—you knew how much it meant to me. I can’t keep letting you hurt me, Thorne. You were right, that day in the churchyard. I need someone capable of sympathy and caring. I need a better man.”
“Katie—”
“Don’t call me that. Don’t ever call me that again.”
He caught her by the arm. “Katie, I can’t let you walk away. Not like this.”
“Why not?”
“Because I—”
Her racing pulse stumbled. If he told her he loved her, right here and now, she wouldn’t be able to leave. Even after all he’d done, she wouldn’t have it in her to walk away. He had to know that.
Go on, she silently urged. Just say three words and I’m yours.
“Because you’ve spent the night here,” he said.
She narrowed her eyes. Coward.
“You spent the night alone in my quarters,” he said. “If anyone notices that, you’ll be ruined. Completely.”
“I’ll take my chances. I’d rather be ruined than be with you.” She wrested out of his grip and went to the door. “Our engagement is over.”
“You’re right, it is over,” he said. “We’ll be married today.”
Chapter Fifteen
Thorne had known all along that this would happen. He’d warned her, again and again, that if she knew him, she’d want to get as far away as possible.
He watched her now, inching toward the door, wearing an expression of pure disgust.
“Marry you? Today?” She shook her head. “You’ve gone mad. Perhaps it was the adder venom.”
“I’d never claim to be a learned man, but I have my wits about me.” He crossed the room slowly, learning his new balance with a leaden right arm. “You’ve spent the night with me. Alone. In my personal quarters.”
“But you were ill. I couldn’t leave you. I had no choice. And besides, nothing happened.” A blush touched her cheeks. “Well, almost nothing.”
A shudder went through him as he recalled the sweet flicker of her shy, velvet tongue and the soft heat of her sex. And all those naive, starry-eyed promises—offers to keep him and love him and give him a home, as if he were another stray pup she’d adopted.
Evidently, those offers were rescinded now.
He said, “You know as well as I, it doesn’t matter what did or didn’t happen. It’s what people will assume.” He hadn’t removed her from a whorehouse all those years ago just to make her look the slattern now. “We must marry. You’ve no choice.”
“Of course I have a choice. Watch me make it.” She wrenched open the door and dashed through it. He watched her disappear in the direction of the village—running with all the haste of a bat fleeing dawn.
With a wistful thought that he’d have preferred to do this with some bread and ale in his stomach, Thorne set off in pursuit. Badger happily joined the parade, ears flattened against his head.
As she hurried down the path that led from the castle bluffs to the village, she threw him a look over her shoulder. “Stop following me. I’m not marrying you, Thorne. You’re going to America. I mean to stay here in England. With my family.”
The path straightened onto a gentle downslope. Thorne forced his weary limbs into a sprint, gaining ground until he could stretch out his left hand and catch her by the arm.
Ignoring her cry of outrage, he wheeled her to face him. Her hair escaped its pins, tumbling about her shoulders in heavy waves. She stared at him, breathing hard.
He found himself equally starved for air. What was it she’d said earlier?
Rapturously stunning beyond all words and comprehension.
Yes, that about summed it up.