Page 84 of The Good Girl's Guide to Rakes
He looked at her indulgently. “If you go running to Ransome, and he makes even the slightest threatto my person, I’ve already penned my letters to every scandal rag in London, along with instructions to mail them if I’m hurt in any way. The outcome is a given: you’ll be ruined, Ransome can’t wed you, and no one else will have you except me. My mother will withdraw her support of you, destroying your family’s precarious social position.”
“You can have any woman you want,” she insisted frantically.
“I’ve set my sights onyou, and I’m accustomed to getting what I want. Yet,” he added pointedly, “what I do is truly foryourbenefit. A little gratitude might suit you better than this vulgar display of emotion.”
Bile rose in her throat, along with the feverish wish that she could punch Lord Montford in the gut. Anger surged through her. Here was another goddamned man who believed he could control her, who manipulated her into doing whathewanted.
“I’m not a virgin,” she said curtly, desperate for anything that could force him to relinquish his grip on her.
Lord Montford’s steps faltered, yet he regained his footing and continued to push her through the dance. “No matter. So long as you aren’t increasing on the day of our wedding, everything can proceed according to my intentions.”
“I never knew,” she said lowly. “I was foolish and thought you innocuous. But you’re truly a bastard.”
He scowled. “Language, Miss Kilburn. I won’t have my future bride speak so crudely.”
“I beg your pardon,” she said, fluttering her lashes, “you arsehole.”
“You can’t goad me into breaking our engagement.”
What could she do? There had to be some way to extricate herself, yet how could she? Lord Montford had effectively trapped her, with Kieran’s future and the fate of her family held hostage to the earl’s demands.
Time. She needed time. “A week. Then I’ll give you my answer.”
His brow lifted. “You seem to have mistaken this for a negotiation.”
“Unless you want me fleeing to America,” she ground out, “you will allow me a week before I come to any conclusions.” When he tried to stare her down, she simply stared back, until he exhaled.
“As you please. But it’s bootless to attempt any maneuvering out of our arrangement. Youwillmarry me, Miss Kilburn, and Iwillundo the damage that you so thoughtlessly wreaked upon your family.”
His condescension infuriated her, yet there was nothing she could do but seethe.
The song finally came to an end. She barely waited for the last note before stalking from the dance floor, uncaring whether or not it appeared rude. A headache dug talons into her throbbing skull, and she fought through the pain to locate Kieran. She had to tell him, had to warn him what was happening.
She drew up short as she saw him surrounded by two matriarchs and three debutantes, all chatting pleasantly as the older women tried not to appear overly acquisitive. The girls fanned themselves and sent Kieran coquettish glances.
She was going to lose him. In despair, she realized she was also going to lose herself. Desolation consumedher and she felt minuscule and powerless in the face of what confronted her. Tears welled, but she couldn’t weep in the middle of a ballroom, so she furiously blinked them back.
“Celeste?” Rosalind’s worried face came into view. “What’s happened? What’s wrong?”
“I have to go home,” Celeste croaked.
“Of course,” her friend said. “Here, lean on me and I’ll get you out of here.”
“Thank you,” Celeste answered. “I’ll be fine.”
As she and Rosalind hurried from the ballroom, Celeste wished that her words were true. All she needed was to make it back safely to her carriage, and then she could let the world fall apart around her.
Once she was in her vehicle, she allowed herself to give in to tears. Yet it didn’t leave her with the sense of exhausted peace she sometimes got from weeping. Instead, she was a bundle of rusty wire, all jagged pieces and tension. She wanted to feel numbness, but pain and anger kept rising in drowning tides. There could be no way out of this situation, and she stared down the barrel of a lifetime of misery.
Chapter 20
Two hours had passed since Kieran had left the Duke and Duchess of Greyland’s ball, and he now waited impatiently beside the rig. He held the horse’s bridle and strained to peer into the darkness for signs of Celeste’s approach. Though his invitation to her had been spontaneous, he’d made a plan after leaving Mayfair.
He’d hired the vehicle for the whole night, his intention to drive it himself all the way to Hampstead Heath and spend as much damned time there as he and Celeste wanted. In the rig was a packed hamper of bread, cheese, apple cakes, and wine, as well as a blanket.
A midnight picnic wasn’t quite as wild as some of their other adventures, but eagerness shot along his limbs and made his palms sweat. Because once he had Celeste out on the moonlit heath, he’d finally let her know that he wanted more from their brief arrangement. Something lasting—something permanent.
“Christ,” he muttered in disbelief. He’d never have believed he could reach this point in his life, or meet someone with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his days. And yet it was precisely what he needed: a lifetime with Celeste. It was frightening, and wonderful.
