She was beautiful but young, only twenty and one, which made him eight years older than her at twenty-nine. He wasn’t usually attracted to women so na?ve in so many ways and would have easily dismissed her if the rest of her was just as innocent. She was young but very much a woman. Marriage to her, at least in bed, would be no hardship.
He would have to find a way to ensure she never found out his secret, however. At least, not until Creed was dead. That would be hard, since the wives of the other three members of the O.S.S. knew exactly who the men were and how to keep a secret.
“Lady Philomena, I’ve not been myself today. If you would allow it, I’d like to court you properly.”
“No. You don’t like my uncle.” She looked much stronger now, which he liked much more than the fear, even with her refusal. This was much better. She lifted her chin as she held his eyes. “Consider our engagement broken.” She started toward the door.
“Wait.” He caught up with her and took her hand.
She turned and tried to snatch it back, but he wouldn’t let her. He waited for the fear to return to her eyes because if it did, he would release her, but after a few seconds more, when all he saw was more anger, he tightened his hold on her hand.
“If you can prove to me that your uncle is innocent, I will concede. For now, let us simply focus on us. Allow me to court you. Let us get to know one another. Let us see if we might find ourselves in agreement to the match in the end.” And he would do what must be done to ensure it.
Philomena frowned. “How do I prove him innocent? That’s impossible.”
He shrugged. “Still, if you find a way to do so, I’ll welcome Creed into our family with open arms.”
Her eyes widened. “Our family?” The words were said with a great breath. He could hear the wish in them and knew it had little to do with him in particular. She obviously wanted a family. The thought of a family made her smile. That, he liked more than anything else he’d learned about her. He didn’t wish to live the way he had with his parents. He wanted warmth and though he and Philomena were not a love match, he’d seen it grow more than once over time between couples.
But first, he had to get her down the aisle.
“Let me court you,” he said in a hushed tone.
Her eyes, though they’d never actually left him, resettled in a way that told him she’d not been truly looking at him before and now she was. He was close enough to feel her faint breaths, heard it slightly catch before she said, “But we don’t have the time to properly court. Our engagement party is in two days.”
With his free hand, he touched her cheek and watched color fill her cheeks before saying, “Then we’ll need to spend every waking hour together until then.” It would be hard, he knew. He still had other duties to attend to. He needed to meet with the O.S.S. and deliver the other letter to Wardington, which was something he wasn’t looking forward to.
But Philomena was important. He had a duty to fulfill and through her, he was fulfilling it.
That thought didn’t displease him as he thought of all the other ways she’d fulfill her duties as his wife.
He was momentarily speechless when he realized a fact he never thought possible.
He beginning to want the woman his mother had chosen. “Impossible.”
“How very strange.”
They’d spoken at the same time and both stilled after realizing they had.
He had no idea what Philomena had been thinking, but the creases that formed between her brow proved she’d be a challenge.
“No,” she said with finality. “It wouldn’t work.”
He wanted to curse, but instead let go of her chin and touched her shoulder while he thought of a way to change her mind.
He could only think of one. “Give me two days, and if you still decide that you’d rather not marry, I will do everything within my power to see that your name goes unstained if you still wish for the engagement’s end.”
Her eyes lit from within, and he wanted to touch her face again and find out if that light made her skin equally warm.
What he’d offered her worked in her favor and they both knew it. If not, once she walked out that door, she’d have to suffer the life of spinsterhood.
“Two days,” she whispered before taking the steps needed to be out of his touch. “Then I’ll decide.”
He grinned. The only decision she’d be making in two days would be which flowers she wished at the wedding.
He would see to it.
* * *
5
CHAPTER
FIVE
.
.
.
* * *
She couldn’t imagine a more
perfect ending for her story. …
* * *
.
How very strange.
It was as though in a blink of an eye, Durham had changed from a nightmare to a pleasant dream. He'd become another person.
And he could just as easily become yet another person again. She did admit that for a moment, she'd been tempted to believe him. She shivered at the memory of how he'd stalked her with that intent look in his eyes and then caressed her cheek. The heat of his body could not be contained by his glove, but she'd be a fool if she didn't take into account what else those hands could do when angered. While he'd all but called her uncle the worst sort of man in the world, Creed had never looked at her with the loathing the marquess had, never given her cause to worry or feel fear.
As she waited for him in his carriage, the urge to flee settled into her belly. The only reason she had the day away from her chaperone was that the cook had accidentally served Mrs. Gale bread that had contained nuts last evening, which had caused a horrible reaction. Mrs. Gale's tongue had swollen, her eyes had grown red, and her breathing short and labored. The doctor had been summoned at once, and Mrs. Gale had been put to sleep.
While Mrs. Gale wasn't her favorite person, Mena would never wish harm on anyone and did admit that Mrs. Gale's intentions were always good. She'd visited a still-drugged Mrs. Gale this morning before leaving for the day, unsure if the woman had even been aware of anything Mena had said.
Yet now Mena wished for the woman more than ever, if only so someone could ensure her safety, and for that alone, Mena was willing to suffer Mrs. Gale's insistence that Mena marry the marquess, while all the while, she would remain true to her position. She would not marry Durham.
She didn't know what she'd been thinking when she'd agreed to spend the next two days with the marquess. Alone. As though they were truly courting, which in Mena's opinion, they were not. Two days was what she promised in order to gain her freedom, and two days was all she would give his lordship and not a day more.
With his urging that they spend as many hours as possible together until the party, Mena was positive that the marquess would eventually slip from his now-charming character and show his true self. All she had to do was wait... and make sure there was plenty of room between them when it did happen.
She jumped when he opened the door and took a seat across from her. Her heart had leapt into her throat and not even his smile could settle her. He was dangerous, she told herself. She had to watch his every move.