Page 15 of The Study of Seduction
She stiffened. “Why would you think that?”
“You told me once that you wished you could visit him. I assumed you might have decided to do so.”
“And lead the English authorities right to him, if anyone happened to be watching? I’m no fool.”
“No, but you are being manipulated by the rest of your family. Imagine my shock when I learned that you were right here in England, being kept from me by your cousin.” He stepped nearer still. “Knightford knew full well that I couldn’t leave London with the ambassador away.”
“Yes. He did.” She stared him down, determined not to let him gain the upper hand. “So did I. He was only doing as I asked.”
“I don’t believe you.” As she stifled a curse, he added, “I know that deep down, you sense our connection. You may claim otherwise, but you recognize that we’re meant to be together.”
Oh, Lord, what now? He truly believed what he was saying. She walked over to part the curtains, as if to look out at the night street. Hopefully he wouldn’t be aware that the window was actually a set of French doors opening onto a balcony that connected with the card room next door.
“Admit it,” he said from behind her, far closer than she liked. “You and I belong together.”
“If I thought so, I would have accepted your proposal of marriage.” Stealthily, she reached for the handle.
“You refused my proposal because your cousin commanded it.”
She tried the handle. It was locked.
Panic built in her chest. She was trapped. And the last time she’d been trapped alone with a man . . .
No, she wouldn’t give in to hysterics. She mustn’t! Count Durand mustn’t see her quake before him. Fear was the enemy.
Forcing a smile, she faced him, alarmed to find him only a few feet away. “I refused your proposal because I’m in love with someone else.” The minute she blurted out the lie, she regretted it. Count Durand might be the sort of fellow for whom such a declaration would make matters worse.
But he merely laughed. “That’s absurd. My spies have seen no evidence of that.”
Anger spiraled inside her, and she clung desperately to it, hoping to banish her fear. “Spies? You’ve beenspyingon me?”
“I told you. I shall never let you escape me.”
Her blood faltered.Be strong, she told herself.You can bluff your way through this.
She donned her haughtiest manner. “If you’re trying to convince me of your love, that isn’t the way to go about it.” With a sniff, she rushed past him.
But she wasn’t quick enough. Catching her by the arm, he jerked her back around and pushed her against the wall.
“Then I shall have to convince you some other way,” he growled, before taking her mouth with his.
A tiny part of her screamed,Fight!But the rest of her froze. Dark memories from years ago swamped her. A night in an orangery. Soft kisses twisting into hard ones. A man’s rough hands groping, ripping . . .
Her ears began to ring. Her vision was tunneling now, and her head spinning . . . Oh, Lord, no, no, no. She couldn’t faint. Not now. Not with him!
Then the door slammed open beyond them, and through a dim fog, she heard Edwin say, “Let go of her, you bastard, or I’ll beat you within an inch of your life!”
Four
It took all of Edwin’s strength not to hurtle across the room and plant a facer on Durand. But laying out the charge d’affaires of the French embassy would set tongues to wagging, and the last thing they needed was rumors swirling about Clarissa and Durand. The man would use them to force her into marriage.
The very idea made Edwin’s blood run cold. Especially when she stood stock-still, trembling, her face white. Seeing her so shaken cut through him like a knife of ice. If the man hadn’t stopped trying to kiss her at that moment, Edwin might have pummeled the bastard anyway.
“Step away from her.” Edwin held his hands curled into fists before him in a pugilist’s stance. “Now!”
Durand frowned. “Stay out of this, Blakeborough. It’s none of your concern.”
“The devil it isn’t.” Edwin said the first thing that came into his head. “She’s my fiancée.”
