Page 75 of The Dangerous Love of a Rogue
‘Are you ready?’ Marlow asked his wife who’d followed Mary downstairs.
Marlow had lectured Drew on the way to the bishop’s palace to obtain the licence. The return journey had been full of threats. If Drew hurt her; if he did not look after her; if he treated her false; if Marlow heard that Drew was behaving inappropriately, setting up a mistress or having an affair… Marlow had found a hundred different reasons to threaten Drew, promising castration at least, murder at most.
Drew did not care. The only thing he did care for was Mary, and judging by her look, she no longer cared for him.
He sighed. He would not survive if she turned her back on him.
He had informed her father it was a mistake to tell him not to do things, because he was a contrary man. He also told Marlow his daughter was as contrary, and if they had not warned her off, she’d probably never have gone near him. Then ignoring the pain of his broken rib, he had patted Marlow’s shoulder with a smile, rejecting her father’s prejudice.
Marlow’s hand had fisted, and Drew had readied himself not to flinch if the man hit him. Marlow had gritted his teeth, dropped his hand and snapped, ‘You are not worth hitting.’
Now, Drew lifted his arm, offering it to Mary. His rib, and his heart, hurt like hell, but he was not going to show it and let any of them know how much they had upset him.
Mary rested her hand on his sleeve.
Pembroke glowered.
Ignoring him, Drew walked Mary towards the front door. ‘I suppose your brother has been insulting me again,’ he said to her quietly.
Her gaze flicked up to meet his, then darted away, in a way that implied Drew was right.
Clearly all the words he said to her counted for nothing compared to Pembroke’s.
‘And you’ve been lapping it up…’ he said. ‘Do you think I am a villain now?’
She did not answer, yet her eyes told him tobe quiet.
Never tell me not to do something, Mary.Have you learned nothing about me? It is like a red rag to a bull.
‘What did he say? Am I charged with something new or is it still seduction? Perhaps I should ask him to a duel and shoot him so he has a decent complaint. Or I could?—’
‘This is not a game,’ she whispered harshly as they led the wedding party out into the street.
‘Am I laughing?’ he answered.
But then, he could not help himself, he had always been easily spurred. He looked over his shoulder at Pembroke. ‘Have you the cheque?’
Mary’s hand, as light as a feather, flinched, her fingers clawing for an instant.
It had been the only way he could think of to hit back at Pembroke, but yet again he had not thought about Mary.
When they reached the carriage, Drew held Mary back, letting the others enter first.
He did not want to cause her any suffering, but he did not know how to manage this –and she is hurting me.
A footman held the carriage door open and two grooms held the horses’ heads. The coachman was already in his seat. Another two grooms hovered by the footplates at the rear of the glossy black coach. All were dressed in Pembroke’s livery.
Hell, if this was the service Mary was used to, she would find life sparse at the Albany in Drew’s two unstaffed rooms.
Drew handed Mary up, then climbed in after her. Pembroke’s pale impenetrable gaze was no more than a mirror. The man must be good at cards; no one would guess what was in his hand.
As he sat beside Mary, Drew grinned, striking back. Let them think he was taking Mary just for their money. Let them feel the pain of this too.
Mary pressed up into the corner. He slid up close, only because she sought to move away.
His ill-temper was getting worse by the minute.
The door shut.
