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Authors: Sara Ramsey
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won’t threaten to send you away. Knowing you, you’d only enjoy it. But I can’t ignore what I saw tonight. If Carnach doesn’t agree to marry you, I’ll find a way to ruin him without bringing you into it.”
“I already said I will marry her,” Malcolm said.
“And I already said I won’t marry anyone,” Amelia replied.
“And I said I would marry Lord Carnach, but apparently that doesn’t signify,” Prudence said.
Salford and Amelia both started talking at once, but the earl’s stronger voice carried the floor. “You are better off without the bounder, Prudence. You deserve someone with a keen mind, not a rake.”
She leveled a glare at him. “There are no men with keen minds in the ton, Alex.”
Alex looked wounded. Amelia followed with another blow. “Do I deserve a bounder, then? Not a very brotherly sentiment, even from you.”
“Enough,” Salford snapped. “You’ve had every chance to live the life you want, and yet you risk it all far too often. Perhaps Carnach can control you where I’ve failed.”
Malcolm could have told him it was the wrong thing to say. For someone so renowned as a collector, Salford really had the most inelegant way with women. Even Prudence winced, and she was not in Amelia’s corner.
Amelia gaped at her brother. Malcolm felt a twinge of sympathy. Whatever she had done, she didn’t deserve to be castigated for it in front of him.
“I won’t have you talking to my future wife like that, Salford,” Malcolm said, stepping toward Amelia and taking her hand in his. Her fingers curled lightly in his palm, devoid of their earlier passion, but she didn’t evade him.
It was Salford’s turn to gape. Finally he bowed to his sister. “I am sorry, Amelia. You know my words escape me when I’m in a temper.”
She didn’t respond. Malcolm squeezed her hand, lightly. She retrieved her fingers from his grip. When she finally spoke, her voice was frozen. “I won’t forget, you know.”
“I won’t expect you to. Carnach, if you will wait on me in the morning, we can discuss settlements.”
Amelia stooped to retrieve her slippers, then walked to a nearby footstool so she could sit and tie them on. Malcolm felt the chill emanating from her as she spoke. “At least promise that if Carnach and I don’t suit, we may break it off.”
She wasn’t looking up, and so missed what Malcolm saw — the brief softening of Salford’s face before he answered. “Divorce is out of the question. But you needn’t marry for a few days. If you truly don’t suit, I won’t force it.”
Her resulting smile was strangely triumphant. Malcolm ignored it. They suited, at least physically. And not even a deaf man could miss the heat of their banter. If the scandals Salford hinted at were truly awful, she was exactly what he didn’t need in a bride. But was it worse to take her anyway, or risk Salford’s wrath just as he was trying to build influence in London?
Amelia looked up and met his eyes. Her smile was positively wicked. He could read the thoughts behind it. Even though his honor was at stake, he gave her a wicked smile of his own.
She would try to escape him — to prove they weren’t compatible.
And the devil within him was eager to prove her wrong.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Amelia was irate, aggrieved, enflamed — she could list adjectives for days, and probably would when she next sat down with pen and paper.
But she was also guilty. And ashamed. She would find a way to escape this engagement, no matter how intent Malcolm and Alex were on arranging it. But could her friendship with Prudence survive?
She dragged her eyes away from Malcolm’s smile and forced her clumsy fingers to tie her slippers. “Shall we go to our rooms and leave the gentlemen in peace?” she asked Prudence when she was done, as though it were any other evening, as though nothing between them had changed.
“Can I bring my book with me, or do you plan to steal that too?”
Amelia winced. She heard her
“I already said I will marry her,” Malcolm said.
“And I already said I won’t marry anyone,” Amelia replied.
“And I said I would marry Lord Carnach, but apparently that doesn’t signify,” Prudence said.
Salford and Amelia both started talking at once, but the earl’s stronger voice carried the floor. “You are better off without the bounder, Prudence. You deserve someone with a keen mind, not a rake.”
She leveled a glare at him. “There are no men with keen minds in the ton, Alex.”
Alex looked wounded. Amelia followed with another blow. “Do I deserve a bounder, then? Not a very brotherly sentiment, even from you.”
“Enough,” Salford snapped. “You’ve had every chance to live the life you want, and yet you risk it all far too often. Perhaps Carnach can control you where I’ve failed.”
Malcolm could have told him it was the wrong thing to say. For someone so renowned as a collector, Salford really had the most inelegant way with women. Even Prudence winced, and she was not in Amelia’s corner.
Amelia gaped at her brother. Malcolm felt a twinge of sympathy. Whatever she had done, she didn’t deserve to be castigated for it in front of him.
“I won’t have you talking to my future wife like that, Salford,” Malcolm said, stepping toward Amelia and taking her hand in his. Her fingers curled lightly in his palm, devoid of their earlier passion, but she didn’t evade him.
It was Salford’s turn to gape. Finally he bowed to his sister. “I am sorry, Amelia. You know my words escape me when I’m in a temper.”
She didn’t respond. Malcolm squeezed her hand, lightly. She retrieved her fingers from his grip. When she finally spoke, her voice was frozen. “I won’t forget, you know.”
“I won’t expect you to. Carnach, if you will wait on me in the morning, we can discuss settlements.”
Amelia stooped to retrieve her slippers, then walked to a nearby footstool so she could sit and tie them on. Malcolm felt the chill emanating from her as she spoke. “At least promise that if Carnach and I don’t suit, we may break it off.”
She wasn’t looking up, and so missed what Malcolm saw — the brief softening of Salford’s face before he answered. “Divorce is out of the question. But you needn’t marry for a few days. If you truly don’t suit, I won’t force it.”
Her resulting smile was strangely triumphant. Malcolm ignored it. They suited, at least physically. And not even a deaf man could miss the heat of their banter. If the scandals Salford hinted at were truly awful, she was exactly what he didn’t need in a bride. But was it worse to take her anyway, or risk Salford’s wrath just as he was trying to build influence in London?
Amelia looked up and met his eyes. Her smile was positively wicked. He could read the thoughts behind it. Even though his honor was at stake, he gave her a wicked smile of his own.
She would try to escape him — to prove they weren’t compatible.
And the devil within him was eager to prove her wrong.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Amelia was irate, aggrieved, enflamed — she could list adjectives for days, and probably would when she next sat down with pen and paper.
But she was also guilty. And ashamed. She would find a way to escape this engagement, no matter how intent Malcolm and Alex were on arranging it. But could her friendship with Prudence survive?
She dragged her eyes away from Malcolm’s smile and forced her clumsy fingers to tie her slippers. “Shall we go to our rooms and leave the gentlemen in peace?” she asked Prudence when she was done, as though it were any other evening, as though nothing between them had changed.
“Can I bring my book with me, or do you plan to steal that too?”
Amelia winced. She heard her