Page 85 of Falling Into Bed with a Duke
“This doesn’t change anything, Minerva.”
“It changes everything. You needn’t bother to speak with my father this evening. I have no intention of marrying you now.”
“I don’t see why not.”
“You deceived me.”
“I’m certain there are things about yourself you’ve not told me.”
“Nothing as bad as this. You wasted your inheritance. You traveled the world, sought out pleasures, while your estates languished. Did you think there would be no consequences to your unbridled spending, to your failure to take responsibility?”
“I’m taking responsibility now.”
“It’s too late. I will not marry a man I cannot respect, and I cannot respect a man who allows his financial situation to get to this state”—she swept her hand over the desk—“and then expects a lady’s dowry to undo the damage.” She was not a woman who cried, and yet she felt the sting of tears. “You should have been honest with me, Ashebury.”
Turning on her heel, she headed for the doorway. She’d nearly reached it when his voice echoed around her, through her. Full of confidence, warning, and victory.
“I’m not certain you’re in a position to deny me ... Lady V.”
ASHE was angry at the accusations she’d thrown out at him. What did she know of his struggles, of how he’d come to be in his position? Why did she discount his feelings for her just because he was in need of her dowry?
Spinning around, she glared at him. “Are you threatening me with blackmail? Do you really think I’m the sort to be intimidated by such poppycock? What passed between us doesn’t change anything. I won’t marry you.”
He strode across the room, stopping only when he was near enough to smell the verbena. “I’m certain your father will feel very differently when he learns that I deflowered you.”
“It will be your word against mine.”
If she didn’t look at him with such loathing in the depths of her brown eyes, he might have let her go, but she’d stung his pride. “Truly? Because all of London knows about the heart-shaped birthmark at the bottom of your right hip? Even with your skirts on, I can lay my finger unerringly against it. What will he say then?”
“He won’t force me to marry a man I have no desire to marry.”
“And what will London say when they find out that the prim and proper Miss Dodger visited the Nightingale Club three times?”
“You won’t divulge that. They’ll kick you out. You’ll never be welcomed there again.”
“What need will I have for the Nightingale when I have a wife to satisfy all my baser needs?”
“You’re mad if you think I’d welcome you into my bed.”
“You’re too sensual a creature to not welcome me, to deny yourself the pleasure I can bring you.”
“Arrogant prig.”
He gave her one of his more devilish smiles, designed to conquer a woman’s heart. “Don’t be a fool, Minerva. Yes, I need your dowry to set my financial matters to rights, but that doesn’t mean that things can’t be good between us. Thingsaregood between us. The Nightingale proved that.” Before she could react, he grabbed her, drew her in close, and slanted his mouth over hers, determined to remind her of the passion that flared so easily between them, to spark her desire, to—
The pain hit low, hard, sharp, and doubled him over. His knees slammed to the floor, the rest of him smashed against it, and he curled into a fetal position, fighting to catch his breath.
“I will not marry a man I cannot love,” she stated flatly, “a man who does not love me.”
Through his watering eyes, all he saw were her skirts and the heels of her shoes as she made her way out of his library, out of his life.
Chapter 19
SHE refused to cry. The stinging in her eyes was the result of London’s wretched air, not her heart’s breaking.
“I am going to take out an advert in theTimesannouncing that I will never marry and am no longer entertaining suitors.”
After returning home, she’d joined her parents in the library. They stared at her following her announcement while she merely tossed back the scotch she’d poured for herself after entering the room.
