Page 6 of Storm of Bells
I swallowed.
‘And you seriously expect me just go alongwith this? You think I will be all right with all of this? Youthink I will happily run around performing my ‘wifely duties’?’
Leaning across the desk, he stroked onepowerful finger over my cheek, sending another hot-cold tingle downmy spine. ‘Not really. But those are not the only duties of a wife.I intend to make sure that the good outweighs the bad.’
Oh holy moly…that didn’t actuallysound so bad. Maybe I could just try it out his way, and see howthings went and…
No! Bad Lilly! Bad! You’re an independentwoman with a working brain, remember?
Oh, right. I did have one of those. Somewherein my head it was, right?
Grabbing his hand, I pulled it away from myface, hard—then placed a gentle kiss on his palms.
‘The good will always outweigh the badbetween the two of us,’ I told him. ‘Which is why I will continueto work here, at your side, doing what I do best.’
His eyes narrowed infinitesimally.‘Disagreeing with me, you mean?’
I grinned. I couldn’t help it. ‘That, too.But I was more thinking of serving as your faithful secretary andassistant. After all, if I am not here, who will answer all yourpneumatic missives?’
‘You will soon be a married woman,Mr…MissLinton. A married woman’s place is in thehouse.’
With admirable patience, I still didn’t givehim the kick in the butt he deserved. But neither did I bend, orlook away when I told him, ‘A married woman’s place is wherever theheck she wants it to be! But above all, it’s at the side of thehusband she loves.’
Mr Rikkard Ambrose opened his mouth—andclosed it again.
Well, well, will you look at that? Mr Ambrosewas lost for words. Not surprising, really, considering how few ofthem he probably had stored up to begin with.
I rose to my feet.
‘Anything else, Sir?’
His left little finger twitched. ‘Not that Ican currently think of. Is this your last word on the subject?’
‘It is.’
‘You will not assume your place as themistress of my house?’
‘I will not. I intend to stay right where Iam.’
Nodding, he reached for a nearby pile ofdocuments and began perusing them, a clear sign of dismissal. ‘Isee.’
I see?
Suspiciously, I gave him a look.
‘That’s all? You won’t try and convince me?You don’t have anything more to say?’
His eyes stopped moving. Slowly, they rosefrom the page to fix upon me. So cold. So dark. So indomitable.
‘Throughout my life, Miss Linton, I havefound that deeds can be considerably more convincing thanwords.’
Returning his eyes to the document, heflicked a finger, dismissing me. I retreated, his last wordsechoing ominously in my ears.
What the hell is he going to do?
The Battle of theBride
The moment I opened thedoor of my uncle Bufford’s modest townhouse, I heard them.
