She watched him, her face composed, even as her heart raced beneath the stern trappings of her day dress. “I’ve been a very great fool, haven’t I?” she said in a conversational voice.
He was scribbling something on a piece of paper, and he didn’t bother to look up. “More than once, Lady Miranda,” he said. And then his pale, empty eyes met hers. “To which time were you referring?”
“Our friendship is far from accidental, isn’t it?”
“Our friendship?” he echoed, and there was only the slightest trace of mockery in his voice. “It was planned. ”
“But how did you know I’d have a carriage accident? Or was that simply good luck on your part?” She kept her hands clasped in her lap. She didn’t want him to see how tightly she was gripping her fingers, and she buried them in the folds of her pelisse.
“I never count on luck, child. One of my men tampered with your carriage, ensuring the wheel would come off. ”
This was a nightmare, she thought, not blinking. This was some horrid bad dream and she was back home in bed, sleeping soundly.
But she knew it wasn’t. “I could have been killed. ” Her voice was steady.
He showed no remorse. “That would have been highly unlikely, given that you are a notable whip. I expected you’d be able to control your cattle under even more dire circumstances. And of course we were right there waiting. If my calculations had been off it still would have accomplished what I hoped. ”
Author: Anne Stuart
“And what is it you wished to accomplish?”
He set the pen down and leaned back. “Your family’s misery,” he said frankly. “In particular your older brother’s, but I’d be happy if the entire family suffered the torments of the damned. ”
It felt like a knife to her heart, she thought dazedly, trying to compose herself. Her friend, her lover, the lover who’d never touched her, never said anything but who was, nevertheless, her love. “Me included?” She managed to keep her voice steady even as she was breaking inside.
His eyes met hers. “Actually not,” he said. Watching her, and there was an odd expression in his pale eyes. “I thought I’d marry you. ”
His arrogance took her breath away, and her grief vanished, replaced by a cleansing anger. “I think not. ”
“Do you? You forget: I always get what I want, sooner or later. Call it payback for what happened to my sister. ”
“I didn’t know you had a sister. ”
“She was my half sister and my only living relative. Genevieve Compton. ” He said it as if he expected it to mean something to her, but she simply shook her head.
“I’ve never heard of Genevieve Compton. ”
“Your brother Benedick’s fiancée? Granted, you were a child at the time, but I can’t believe you weren’t aware of the scandal. ”
“Our family is always embroiled in scandal. My parents did their best to shield me from some of the more salacious stories. What did my brother do to your sister?”
“He cried off from the engagement and she killed herself. ” The words were flat, emotionless, and Miranda stared at him in shock. The stories of the mad fiancée she vaguely remembered now made sense. “He told her he was going to break the engagement, so she arranged to meet him at Temple Bar to discuss it with their lawyers, and when he arrived she took a gun and blew her brains out in front of them all. ”
“That is truly tragic,” she said, horrified. “But your sister was said to have been mad—she threatened him with the very same gun. ”
His mouth thinned. “It’s of no consequence. He took my sister. I thought I’d return the favor. ”
She didn’t move, afraid if she did that she’d attack him. She’d never been so angry in her life—she almost trembled with it. “No. ”
His smile, the one that she’d found so charming, now infuriated her. “Yes. ”
“This isn’t medieval England, you lying skunk,” she said with something close to a snarl. “You can’t marry an unwilling bride. ”
“You’ll be willing. ”
“And what miracle or force of nature would ensure that?” she snapped.
His voice was simple and direct. “If you don’t I will challenge your brother Brandon to a duel, and I will kill him. ”