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Authors: Patricia Simpson
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come.”
“You should have let me handle it.”
“Why?” she retorted. “You have only one thought, to protect that infernal Marriage Machine.”
“You should never have told my great-grandfather the truth.”
“Someone needed to.” She clutched the bars. “Someone has to speak out. If your great-grandfather is the custodian of that machine, maybe the Overseers will listen to him.”
“It doesn’t necessarily work that way.” Mark wrapped his warm fingers around her cold ones. She tried to snatch her hands away, but he held her fast.
“How does it work then?” she retorted. She had nothing more to lose. She might as well speak her mind. “Who does have the ear of the bloody all-powerful Overseers?”
“No one.” His voice held no reproach. Only gentleness. She had to force herself not to break down in tears. “Unfortunately.”
He stared down at her and did not chide her for being a fool, as everyone else had. She paused, suddenly wondering why he had actually visited, if not to berate her.
“Why didn’t you tell me you had received a silver envelope?” he asked.
“You know the rules—no talk of envelopes outside the family.”
“So you follow some rules and not others?”
She glared at him, still trying to get away, but fighting an entirely different battle on an internal level. Though it made no sense, she was glad to see Mark Ramsay. His outrage at her predicament had warmed her on the inside, just as his hands were warming her frozen fingers. His looming bulk was a like a bastion of strength between her and a world that had spun out of control. But worse, when he touched her and looked down at her with concern darkening his unusual eyes, her heart pattered in erratic leaps of elation.
Her breath caught in her throat. He seemed to notice, and for a moment he stared down at her lips. She thought he was going to kiss her. She ached to be kissed by him. She had never felt such a compulsion in her life. As she stood there, her hands surrounded by his big paws, she realized that she felt closer to Mark Ramsay than she had to anyone in her entire life.
But with the revelation came a bittersweet irony. This was one man she might be able to live with and not chafe at the bindings of matrimony—even without the Marriage Machine. But Mark was not destined to be part of her future.
“I’m told you are to be married tomorrow in fact,” he continued.
“It hasn’t escaped my notice,” she replied. “Or anyone else’s, it seems.”
“A damnable situation.” His voice rumbled with repressed emotion, and she glanced up at him, shocked. His grip tightened.
“Elspeth, it can make little difference if I speak my mind, but I—” He studied her face, and then seemed to think better of what he was about to say. He let his words fall to nothing and sighed.
“Why the sudden holding back?” She studied his face, wondering at his odd behavior. “You’ve been frank with me up until now. What are you hiding?”
“Some things are better left unspoken.” He clamped his jaw tightly. She could see a muscle work on the left side of his face. “Forgive me. I forget myself.”
“Mark,” she jiggled her hands under his, trying to make her point, and trying to rattle him to his senses. “I’m to be married tomorrow. I’ll never be the same. I’ll never desire the things that I want so badly today. I’ll be just a shadow of myself. Tell me what’s on your mind.”
He looked down and shook his head.
“It’s not for the best,” she continued earnestly. “Getting married in that machine. Maybe at one time it was. But it’s no longer right or necessary that a woman lose herself for the greater good.” She pressed her face to the bars until her nose nearly touched the cravat at his throat. “Please, Mark, can’t you get me out of here? Just let me run?”
“You can’t live outside society, El.”
“I could!”
“It will be just another prison sentence. It’s not the
“You should have let me handle it.”
“Why?” she retorted. “You have only one thought, to protect that infernal Marriage Machine.”
“You should never have told my great-grandfather the truth.”
“Someone needed to.” She clutched the bars. “Someone has to speak out. If your great-grandfather is the custodian of that machine, maybe the Overseers will listen to him.”
“It doesn’t necessarily work that way.” Mark wrapped his warm fingers around her cold ones. She tried to snatch her hands away, but he held her fast.
“How does it work then?” she retorted. She had nothing more to lose. She might as well speak her mind. “Who does have the ear of the bloody all-powerful Overseers?”
“No one.” His voice held no reproach. Only gentleness. She had to force herself not to break down in tears. “Unfortunately.”
He stared down at her and did not chide her for being a fool, as everyone else had. She paused, suddenly wondering why he had actually visited, if not to berate her.
“Why didn’t you tell me you had received a silver envelope?” he asked.
“You know the rules—no talk of envelopes outside the family.”
“So you follow some rules and not others?”
She glared at him, still trying to get away, but fighting an entirely different battle on an internal level. Though it made no sense, she was glad to see Mark Ramsay. His outrage at her predicament had warmed her on the inside, just as his hands were warming her frozen fingers. His looming bulk was a like a bastion of strength between her and a world that had spun out of control. But worse, when he touched her and looked down at her with concern darkening his unusual eyes, her heart pattered in erratic leaps of elation.
Her breath caught in her throat. He seemed to notice, and for a moment he stared down at her lips. She thought he was going to kiss her. She ached to be kissed by him. She had never felt such a compulsion in her life. As she stood there, her hands surrounded by his big paws, she realized that she felt closer to Mark Ramsay than she had to anyone in her entire life.
But with the revelation came a bittersweet irony. This was one man she might be able to live with and not chafe at the bindings of matrimony—even without the Marriage Machine. But Mark was not destined to be part of her future.
“I’m told you are to be married tomorrow in fact,” he continued.
“It hasn’t escaped my notice,” she replied. “Or anyone else’s, it seems.”
“A damnable situation.” His voice rumbled with repressed emotion, and she glanced up at him, shocked. His grip tightened.
“Elspeth, it can make little difference if I speak my mind, but I—” He studied her face, and then seemed to think better of what he was about to say. He let his words fall to nothing and sighed.
“Why the sudden holding back?” She studied his face, wondering at his odd behavior. “You’ve been frank with me up until now. What are you hiding?”
“Some things are better left unspoken.” He clamped his jaw tightly. She could see a muscle work on the left side of his face. “Forgive me. I forget myself.”
“Mark,” she jiggled her hands under his, trying to make her point, and trying to rattle him to his senses. “I’m to be married tomorrow. I’ll never be the same. I’ll never desire the things that I want so badly today. I’ll be just a shadow of myself. Tell me what’s on your mind.”
He looked down and shook his head.
“It’s not for the best,” she continued earnestly. “Getting married in that machine. Maybe at one time it was. But it’s no longer right or necessary that a woman lose herself for the greater good.” She pressed her face to the bars until her nose nearly touched the cravat at his throat. “Please, Mark, can’t you get me out of here? Just let me run?”
“You can’t live outside society, El.”
“I could!”
“It will be just another prison sentence. It’s not the
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