Page 93 of Once More, My Darling Rogue
“I prefer to stand.”
“Will you at least move into the room so I needn’t shout and our words can remain private?”
Hesitating, she glanced around. In his residence, he found her pique amusing. Here, it only served as a reminder that she had every reason to be upset with him. Finally, she wandered into the room, stopping near the before-indicated sofa, folding her hands primly in front of her, and meeting his gaze head-on.
Had he really thought only a short while ago that memories of washing his back would have humiliated her? That he could bring her to heel so easily? How had he not recognized the depth of her pride, the strength of her backbone? How could he have not seen that she could have resided in the filthiest squalor, and she still would have held herself as though she were a queen? How had he not known that he would gladly serve as her most loyal subject?
“I make no excuse for my actions. They were reprehensible.”
Her face a mask of calm, she said nothing. He wanted her to at least tell him he had the right of it, he was a beast. He wanted her to yell, rant, move forward, and pound her fists into his chest. He would wager everything he owned—everything, including his recently acquired club—that she knew precisely what he wanted and so she withheld it as a means to punish him. A lashing would have hurt less, but then he didn’t deserve less.
“Do you remember how you came to be in the Thames?” he asked.
A flicker of emotion at last. Fear. Deep and dark.
“No.”
“Somerdale said you left with your uncle—”
“You’ve discussed this with my brother?” Fury now. Her eyes narrowed, her hands clenched at her side. Her breaths coming harsh and fast.
“No!” He held up a hand. “No. Believe it or not, in the beginning, I only planned to have you serve as my housekeeper for a day.”
“But you were having such a jolly time with it that you decided to prolong it?”
“It was not as I thought it would be.” He gripped the mantel to stop himself from rushing forward and taking her in his arms, comforting her with his touch, with soft whispers, with tender kisses. “It would be much easier if you sit down and allow me to explain without interruption.”
“And you think I care about what is easier for you?” She held out her hands, palms facing him. “My hands are scarred now, not the hands of a lady. And I’m no longer innocent. I won’t be a virgin for my husband.”
“You weren’t a virgin for me,” he said somberly.
“You bastard!” she rasped, before tearing across the short expanse separating them and pummeling his chest, his arms, his jaw. She was a madwoman, her fists flailing about, striking anything they could.
He didn’t try to stop her, not at first. He deserved every bruise, every cut, every scrape. But then he feared she might damage herself. He folded his arms around her, brought her in close, held her tightly. “Phee,” he whispered in her hair. “Phee, it’s all right.”
Her arms went limp as she sagged against him, great wrenching sobs causing her shoulders to tremble, her tears dampening his shirt. It seemed he was always destined to cause her pain. He would leave her if he could, but not yet, not just yet.
“Tell me,” he urged gently. “Tell me what happened.”
Sniffing, wiping at her eyes, she pushed away from him. Without meeting his gaze, she walked back to the sofa. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He wished he didn’t. He hoped he didn’t. He who never prayed, prayed to God that he was wrong. But it was the only thing that made sense, that fit with the timeline, and yet it was incomprehensible.
“The first night after I found you, your brother was at the club, playing as though he hadn’t a care in the world. I couldn’t understand why he wasn’t out searching for you. Unless he didn’t know that something had happened to you. Or unless he was the one who tossed you in the river and thought you were dead.”
She rolled her eyes. “Somerdale wouldn’t harm a fly.”
“So it was your uncle. You were going to Stillmeadow with your uncle in order to care for your aunt. But you never got there. Yet your uncle claims you did and then you ran away. Why would he lie?”
“I’ve had quite enough of this.” She turned to go. Lunging forward, he grabbed her arm. Wrenching free, she glared at him. “You promised not to touch me if I met you in here, yet you seem incapable of keeping your promise. I suppose I should not be surprised considering the blackguard you are.”
As much as he didn’t want to do it, he needed to shatter this pretense in order to get to the truth. “Your uncle forced himself upon you that night.”
She heaved a sigh as though he was the most infuriating man in the world and she could hardly be bothered with him. “Let this matter go. You’ve done quite enough damage, don’t you think?”
Oh, he hadn’t done nearly enough if his suspicions were correct. “Look me in the eye and tell me that he did not force himself upon you that night.”
Drawing in air through her gritted teeth, she closed her eyes and balled her fists. He thought it very likely that she was going to hit him again. But when she opened her eyes, he saw determination and steel in them.
