Page 47 of To Pleasure a Prince
“I am not going to be tutored by your damned brother!” he exploded. “There’s nothing wrong with my clothes, and I behave as I please. It has nothing to do with not knowing the rules.”
She turned slowly to face him, her eyebrows arching high. “Do you mean to say youchoosenot to follow the rules of gentlemanly behavior?”
“Damned right,” he growled.
“But I don’t understand. You insisted that we have a proper courtship, that it not be private, that I be seen in public with you. I assumed that in return you meant to treat me the way a man who is courting a woman generally does—with courtesy and respect. But apparently it’s only a proper courtship for me. For you, it’s…what? I am trying to understand.”
Uh-oh. This was not how he wanted the conversation to go. “It’s…er…”
“Surely you know that behaving badly shames both me and your sister. So why do it?” Her eyes narrowed. “Perhaps because this is not a proper courtship after all? Because it is only your scurrilous way of trying to make me give up on Louisa and Simon?”
His blood chilled. Had she guessed what he was up to? “That’s absurd.”
“And all your talk of wanting a beautiful woman on your arm? Was that a lie, too? And your kisses and your claim to desire me?” Her hands were shaking now, and her lower lip trembled.
He stifled an oath. “You know damned well I desired you…Idesireyou…I—” God, she was talking circles around him.
“You desire me. Yet you do not want to please me.”
“I didn’t say that,” he growled.
“You certainly said and did nothing to make me think otherwise. So how can you blame me for thinking you were toying with my affections for your own vile purposes? The way you claim Simon is toying with Louisa’s?”
The comparison hit him like a blow to the chest. Something had gone badly awry during this conversation, but he’d be damned if he could figure out where.
La Belle Dame Sans Merci is used to turning men inside out, remember?
“I hardly think I could toy with a woman who’s rejected eleven proposals of marriage,” he shot back, desperate to regain his footing in the deepening morass that suddenly surrounded him.
Anger glittered in her eyes. “So you decided that my having past suitors made it acceptable for you to toy with me.”
“Damn it, I wasn’t toying—I meant—” He swore a foul oath. “You’re twisting this all around. You know how I feel about society. Why should I follow their ridiculous rules?”
“Because you’re courting me?” When he scowled, she added dismissively, “Never mind. I think I understand now.”
He stiffened. “Understand what?”
“If you did not set out purposely to toy with me—” She paused to cast him a brittle glance. “That is what you claim, isn’t it?”
“Of course,” he bit out, more uncomfortable with this conversation by the moment.
“Then it must be as I said at first—you don’t know how to behave publicly.” She gave a heavy sigh. “I should have seen it before. You are simply too proud to admit it. All your grousing and protests—they’re precisely how a man behaves when he’s out of his element and doesn’t want anyone to know.”
“Out of his element?” he said uneasily.
“I suppose I shouldn’t have made it worse by pointing out your need for lessons in gentlemanly deportment.”
“I do not need lessons in deportment!” he roared.
“There’s no need to shout,” she said primly. “It’s all right. You needn’t be ashamed of it with me.” Her face showed nothing but pity.
Pity, damn her!
A million shades of red exploded in his brain. Nobody pitied him, not her, not his sister, nobody. Perhaps he floundered a bit when he was in society, but that was only because of how those asses treated him. Did she expect him to beniceto them? When they were rude to him? To smile and bow and—
The devil he would. He thrust his face right down to hers. “I do not need lessons in a damned thing. I simply choose not to cater to your insane whims and society’s silly rules.”
“Forgive me, but that’s what incompetent fellows always protest when they don’t know how to dance or behave properly or say the right things. But I am perfectly happy to help you learn—”
