Page 11 of Every Rake Has A Silver Lining

Lord Felix gaped like the nodcock he was, then scurried away on Edgerton’s heels.

Charlotte’s dark brows formed a pronounced V over her seductive eyes. “Did you mean it?”

“What? The cavorting?” He snorted a laugh. “Setting your brother’s teeth on edge was too good to resist. I hate to admit this—to you especially—but I’m in no condition for cavorting.” He managed a wink. “As tempting as you are.”

“No, you buffoon.” She rolled those dark eyes. “That you would marry me.”

“Ah. That.” He rubbed a hand at the back of his neck, the heat from his skin scorching. His gaze flicked to the quinine on his bedside table. “Well, the situation seemed to demand a proposal. At least to appease your brother and make your refusal clear to Davies.”

“You’re not answering my question. Was your offer genuine?”

The cold-water bath had done nothing to ease his elevated temperature but everything to place both him and Charlotte in this horrible situation. He needed to sit down—he needed his quinine.

With a brief wave of his hand, he motioned Charlotte to the chair by the window, then sat on the bed.

Her back ramrod straight, Charlotte perched herself on the edge of the chair. She flitted her gaze toward him, her cheeks blooming with color, then turned her attention toward the door.

Simon followed her line of sight and saw—nothing. “What are you looking at?”

“It’s not what I’m looking at, but what I’m tryingnotto look at. Please, close your legs.”

Oh.He chuckled softly and moved his legs and the gaping towel closer together. “I’m decent now.”

She kept her attention on the door. “I doubt that’s possible for you.”

Even though she didn’t look at him, he shrugged. “Very well. You asked if my offer to marry you was genuine. Do you want it to be?”

“You are insufferable!”

Great satisfaction filled him when she jerked her attention from the door and dropped her gaze to his towel-covered groin. A smile tugged at his lips.

“Stop smirking! This is not in any way humorous. For once, would you be a gentleman and answer my question directly?”

It was so easy to bait her, but she was right. They needed to clear up this mess. “Yes. My offer was sincere. You are in a rather sticky pickle. I’m offering you a way out.”

“I hardly think being bound to you for life is a preferable solution.”

Interesting choice of words, and one reason why this mad idea might work. But he would have to confide in her. “That may not be as long as you imagine.”

Her head swiveled to the quinine bottle. “You’re sick.”

“Yes.”

“Is it . . .” Movement, subtle and barely noticeable, in the long column of her neck caught his eye. “Malaria?”

“Yes.” All the joy of teasing her seeped out of him. She actually appeared concerned.

“And fatal?”

“I don’t know. It’s the most truthful answer I can give you.”

After what seemed like a few hours of staring at each other, that in truth were probably only a few seconds, he said, “Since it’s only the two of us, let’s be honest. You want to be married to me about as much as I want to be married to you. But your reputation is at risk. You may not think much of me, but my mother raised me to be a gentleman. And I’ll be damned if I’ll stand by and allow you to get leg-shackled to Lord Worm, who would beat his wife.”

A tiny smile ghosted her lips but disappeared so quickly, he might have imagined it. “What would this . . . arrangement entail?”

He hitched a brow at her. “What would you like it to entail?”

“Please spare us these games. Would you expect a marriage in the truest sense?”

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