Page 44 of To Pleasure a Prince
They entered the Iversley box to find Cicely pacing and Louisa looking positively frantic.
“Where on earth have you been?” Louisa hurried up to Regina. “One of your cousins came looking for you and said that you’d disappeared with Lord Whitmore. Then he mumbled something about Marcus, and we thought something might have happened—”
“Your brother has been busy terrifying the patrons,” Regina bit out.
Marcus cast her an incredulous look. “I was defendingyou.”
“By half strangling my cousin?”
“He deserved it. He was going to—”
“Nonsense,” she broke in. “If you’d given me the chance, I would have reminded Henry that gossip is a sword I can wield as well as he. He wouldn’t dare malign me, knowing that I would retaliate by telling people I refused his suit. That would mortify him.”
“You refused Lord Whitmore?” Louisa’s gaze flitted from Regina to Marcus with clear interest.
“No doubt he failed to meet her ladyship’s high standards,” Marcus growled.
“Or Regina simply didn’t think they would suit,” Louisa said helpfully.
Marcus snorted. “I can’t imagine why. He has everything Lady Regina is looking for in a husband—title, wealth…a condescending manner.”
“That’s not what she’s looking for.” Louisa cast Regina an uncertain glance. “Tell him that’s not what you want.”
“Oh, pay your brother no mind.” Regina’s temper flared. “He only says these things to annoy me.”
And disturb his sister. In the past two days, Louisa had doubted her more often than she had in the whole time of their friendship, and all because of the insults her bitter brother continued to—
The light dawned.Thatwas why he was behaving like this, doing his best to make Regina despise him. Oh, Lord, now it began to make sense—his contradictory behavior, his insults, his snide manner.
He thought she was shallow, heartless, and fickle, and he wanted Louisa to think so, too. Because if Louisa could be made to doubt Regina’s character, she might also begin to question Simon’s.
Of all the sneaky, conniving tricks! This wasn’t about courting her—that’s why he didn’t try to impress her with compliments or dress to please her. And here she’d thought he actually wanted her.
Tears filled her eyes; she blinked them furiously back. What a fool she’d been. He’d probably thought to prove her a wanton, too, perhaps even ruin her. She’d been too blinded by her stupid physical attraction to him to realize it. She ought to consider herself fortunate he hadn’t come right out and told Henry what they’d been doing.
But she didn’t feel terribly fortunate just now. She felt used, manipulated by a man more expert at it than any of those society members he loathed.
Well, not anymore. If the dragon intended to devour a virgin before he’d stop terrorizing the countryside, he was about to discover how unpalatable this virgin could be.
Chapter Ten
A discourteous gentleman should never be tolerated.
—Miss Cicely Tremaine,The Ideal Chaperone
Marcus knew he was in trouble. He should never have touched Regina, never have tasted her, never have let her entwine him in her spell. Why else had the thought of Whitmore’s ruining her reputation turned him into a slavering beast? Even a boor like him could tell when he’d lost control, and a man should never lose control around his enemies.
Marcus glanced across the carriage to where Regina sat stiffly gazing out the window while her duenna eyed him from beside her with a distinctly malevolent satisfaction. No doubt Miss Tremaine was glad he’d argued with her cousin.
A pox on her. A pox on them both.
Regina had ignored him for the remainder of the opera, conversing only with Louisa or Miss Tremaine, turning no glances his way, and in general treating him like the only discordant note in her social symphony.
He wouldn’t let her get away with it. Yes, he’d gone too far with Whitmore, but she ought to be glad he hadn’t beaten the man to a bloody pulp. That’s what he’d wanted to do the minute that weasel had threatened to slur her in society.
Stifling an oath, he glanced out the window. If he’d been thinking with something other than his cock, he could have used Whitmore’s accusations to his advantage. Regina would have ended her bargain with Marcus if he’d confirmed even a small part of her idiot cousin’s claims.
Instead, he’d browbeaten the man into silence. And why? Because of some chivalric impulse as out of place as the courtly gesture of tossing one’s cape down across a mud puddle. Because after tasting her sweet flesh, he couldn’t stand to watch her reputation reduced to rags for it.
