Page 72 of Avenging the Earl's Lady
Had she, in those intimate moments, revealed something, some piece of intelligence that had led him to Guignard?
“You visited my bedchamber last night to find the painting.”
“No.”He swiped a hand through his hair.“In any case, Kincaid made the connection between Guignard and La Fanelle.”
“Did you secure the painting before you dallied with me then?”
“I was not dallying.I am deadly serious about marrying—”
“You are dodging my question.”
He straightened.
“Oh, do get up, Shaldon, and for once,tell me the damned truth.”
He blinked.“It was after.”
Bile rising again, she pressed a hand to her mouth.Before or after, what did it matter?
She stood, drawing him up by the elbow.“Get up.And pray, tell me, what lady would want to marry a man like you, always planning, and plotting, and scheming?You would be up and off for…for South America, or…or India, tracking down someone who did you wrong decades ago, flying off with not so much as a note of goodbye.”
He opened his mouth and closed it, his expression inscrutable.
No denials then?Heat pounded into her head, anger sparking along every muscle.
“Or maybe your lady won’t care, because if you’re off swanning around other parts of the world she won’t be confronted with the three or four different women you’re tupping as you carry out your revenge.”
“Jane.”
“What lady wants a husband, much less a lover, who would escort her home from a musicale and be off to make love to another,all in the same night?”She shook her fist at him and squeezed her eyes shut blocking out his astonished look.“Not I, Shaldon.Not I.I’ll not marry you.I’ll not play second fiddle to your cronies and chums, and all the sneaking old enemies from twenty years in your past, or to the women you’re bedding for England.Take the blasted painting.Go and wave it under your Duque’s nose while you cuckold him.”
He took in a sharp breath.“Jane.”
Soft linen touched her cheek.
Blast it all.She was weeping.
“Look at me, Jane.”He pressed the handkerchief into her hand and secured her shaking shoulders, his hands infuriatingly gentle, his dark gaze locked on hers.“The painting isallyours.Do with it as you please.There is no other woman, most definitely not the Duquesa.I did not make love to her.”He pressed his lips together, looking almost nervous.“Marry me, Jane.”
“No.”
“Take some time.Think about—”
“No.There’s no need for time.”No need, no need, no need.She must be off, and soon.“The answer is no.”
Pain flashed in his eyes, quickly shuttered.
Had she seen that?Had that been real?Or was it another one of his deceptions and tricks?
Oh, how she wished it wasn’t.
She shook her head.“I’m leaving, Shaldon.”Perry would loan her the funds, or Sirena, or perhaps Graciela.“This is only a game for you…a challenge.You don’t truly wantme.”
His steady gaze sent warmth rippling through her, stirring up echoes of the previous night’s pleasure.
“I want you,” he whispered.“You’ve lived in my home for months, tempting me.This is no game.I care for you.I would be true to my vows, to you, always.I can be as loyal as you, Jane.Please.Give my proposal twenty-four hours.We’ll talk tomorrow night.Will you agree to that much?”
True to his vows, and lying to her right now?She’d seen him with the Duquesa, with her own eyes.
