Page 56 of Captivating the Countess
Lord Nevins paid no heed but grabbed the umbrella before she could run him through with the steel tip. While he struggled to wrench it from her grip, Bell kicked his kneecap, then trod his toe. She wore boots. He didn’t.
Heavy footsteps pounded down the hall, and the door nearly soared off its hinges.
It was a bit of a blur after that. Nevins flew backward, releasing his hold on the umbrella. Bell stumbled and reached for her desk to prevent falling. Fearing she’d faint, she began counting backward. Instead of feeling the usual spirits prying at her consciousness, she felt... a suffocation?
Rain slammed his hard fist into the gentleman’s weak jaw, and she winced. The baron was not muscular. He staggered. Before the younger man could raise his fists, Rainford grabbed the back of Nevins’ collar and bodily flung him into the hall.
Then he slammed the office door and locked it. Fury blackened the marquess’s eyes as he swung around to find Bell cowering against the desk, still holding her umbrella. She wasn’t certain she’d ever seen the self-possessed lord so very angry.
“Do I murder him or just fling him into the snow?” he demanded.
Before she gathered her scattered wits or examined the oddenergyaround them, Rainford crossed the small space and took her in his arms. “You didn’t faint.”
So she hadn’t. Interesting. “Too furious,” she decided.
As a reward, she clung to his welcoming embrace, relishing his hard chest and pounding heart just for a moment, just long enough to regain her equilibrium and stop the shaking. “He was under the impression that I could be bought.”
It had been a very curious conversation, right up until Nevins had tried to touch her person, and she’d reached for the umbrella.
“I’ll kill him,” Rain arbitrarily decided. “But I’ll throw him in the snow and let him freeze first. Maybe I’ll let him run and shoot him down like the vermin he is.”
Bell offered a watery chuckle. Now that the moment of ugliness was over, she preferred a more tidy resolution. “Don’t, please. I believe he is a particular friend of Lady Dalrymple. It would be an embarrassment to her. I’ll ask Franklin to have his bags packed and removed to the carriage door. You needn’t do a thing. Why aren’t you upstairs in your study?”
She’d been terrified that no one would hear her if she screamed. She was trying to be sensible and not weep like a schoolgirl, but she didn’t react well to confusion.
Rain rocked her against him, refusing to let go. “It was stupid of me to treat you like Davis. You cannot work down here alone.”
Returned to her reality, Bell shoved at his chest. “I will learn to handle idiots. I know how. I was caught by surprise that he seemed so very certain that I was available for a price. I stupidly tried to reason with him.”
“To men of that ilk, all women have a price. And because you choose to take employment, he assumes you are no different. I had hoped that by seeing me treat you as the lady you are, the guests would respect you. I cannot believe Nevins is so abysmally stupid.” Rain reluctantly released her.
“I’d like a bell pull installed.” Gathering her composure, Bell set aside her umbrella. “And I should like to go upstairs for some tea while I order Nevins to the devil.”
“I would prefer you tell me to murder him and install your office in the library where no one ever goes,” he grumbled, leading her into the corridor.
“Including most of your staff,” she reminded him. “I need to be able to speak with them upon occasion, and they’re more comfortable here. And you have given me permission to order them as needed without bothering you. Your time is better used elsewhere than murdering guests.”
Bell wished she could explain the oppressive atmosphere she’d experienced in Nevins’ presence, but Rain wouldn’t understand if she couldn’t.
Having him beside her as they strolled the halls created an intimacy almost as exciting as having him in her bedchamber. Whatever drew them together was almost palpable.
She wondered if he felt it, too. Rainford was ever the proper marquess, his pale hair artfully arranged, his jaw shaven despite the fashion. With those jutting cheekbones, he had the icy look of a thunder god. Today, his cravat was a bit awry after the fisticuffs, and she daringly reached over to rearrange it.
The iceberg glared down at her with an expression that should boil water.
“May I come to you tonight?” he asked in cool tones that belied his expression.
“Button is eager to take up residence,” she said in regret. “I do not know how we can be discreet.”
“To hell with being discreet. Let me announce our betrothal and be damned to them all. Nevins and his ilk would not dare touch you then.”
Bell couldn’t help her heart beating a little faster at his decidedly unromantic suggestion. She laughed a little to still her foolishness. “Ever the conquering hero, without an ounce of poetry in your nature.”
He bestowed an icy glare on her, but even he couldn’t argue that wasn’t a real proposal.
“The wedded state has never been my goal,” she continued before he could find better words. “You have heard the story of my mother’s destructive marriage? I know you are not a drunkard and destitution is not on your horizon, but marriage comes with a high price. I’d rather know that I can take care of myself.”
And if he was to be a duke someday, his wife would very much need to stand on her own in a world of which Bell knew little.
