Page 76 of The Viscount's Promise
Her lips twisted. “Don’t tell me he never told you. I swear, Bertram loved you more than anything; I was certain he would have told you all.”
“Perhaps you had best explain, madam,” he growled.
“No,” she said slowly, eyeing him with interest, leaning back against the stone railing and crossing her arms. “No, I don’t think I shall.”
He took a menacing step toward her. “I warn you, Lydia. Do not play with me, for I have the power to make your life a living hell. You know I do.”
She considered him a moment, uncertainty clouding her eyes, before she straightened and shrugged. “Very well. I don’t suppose it matters now. Your brother was...hesitant, I believe is the word, to enter into a union with me. He had some medieval notions about honor and brotherly love, it seemed. He knew you cared for me and couldn’t stomach taking me for his own. So one night I gave him a little something to help him along.”
“You drugged him?” Malcolm demanded furiously.
Her eyes flared in alarm. “Not drugged. Dear me, Malcolm, what kind of monster do you think I am?”
“Do not tempt me to answer that, madam,” he growled.
“I merely softened him with alcohol. The man could not hold his liquor.” When he continued to stare at her, aghast, she scoffed. “There’s no need to look at me like that. He enjoyed it, I assure you, though he did his best at appearing horrified the following morning.”
White-hot anger raced through his veins. “I always knew you were an underhanded, conniving spawn of hell. But this is a new low even for you.”
“What did I do but help the man get what he wanted? And he did want me. I saw the way he looked at me when he thought no one would notice. But there was always that love for you that stood between us.”
“You mean that stood between you and the title.” Bertram’s face flashed in his mind, so full of regret the morning he’d pulled Malcolm aside and told him he was to marry Lydia. At the time, Malcolm had been unable to see past his grief and rage. Now he looked at it with new eyes. Bertram had been a man tricked into a marriage he never wanted, forced to do his duty and hurt his only brother. Too honorable to put the blame where it had truly belonged, squarely on Lydia’s shoulders.
“You destroyed his life,” he rasped. “You destroyed mine. All for a title and a fortune. How can you live with yourself?”
“Very well, thank you.”
He gaped at her.
“What would have happened to us if I had married you instead, Malcolm?” she went on blithely. “How would you have supported us? We were both of us so young. You had no skills, no income, no property. We would have lived on your brother’s charity to get by. No, it was much better this way.”
Unable to stomach her a moment more, he turned away.
“You cannot mean to leave,” she demanded.
“I do,” he bit out.
She rushed to plant herself in front of him. “Very well, I admit it must be upsetting to you, learning all that.”
He let out a disbelieving laugh. “Upsetting? Madam, you have no idea.”
She had the gall to roll her eyes. “Please, Malcolm. You are being dramatic. That is all in the past. It has no bearing on the present.”
“It haseverythingto do with it.”
“Come now,” she said. “Yes, I may have made mistakes in the past. But the fact remains that we are both here, we are both available for a dalliance. I have always wanted you, Malcolm, though I chose security instead of lust. And you are so much more than you used to be.” Her voice lowered to a purr, her hands finding and stroking over his jacket lapels. “There’s no reason on earth that we cannot continue where we left off.”
His hand shot out, gripping her fingers, removing them forcibly from his chest. Her mouth opened in a surprised oval.
“You will keep your hands from my person,” he said with deadly calm. “You disgust me more than you ever have. What you did to my brother, and the damage you did to my relationship with him, can never be forgiven. Never.”
He went around her, determined to leave her with all haste. But she was not done with him.
“And where will you go?” she lashed out, her voice gone harsh with her outrage. “Will you return to the insipid, weak Lady Emily? For I’m sure she won’t have you back. Not now.”
Nothing else she could have said could have stopped him. He whirled on her. “What have you done?”
She seemed at once to realize her mistake. Her eyes widened, and she backed up a step. “Nothing. I’ve done nothing.”
