"Yes, it does. Name one thing about me you like."
Your bosom.
He retained enough grip on strategy to keep that to himself. "I like your loyal heart. I like how good you are with your father. I like your mind. If you’d been born a man, you’d make a name for yourself in science."
"Thank you," she said, looking dazed.
"That’s three things. I could list more." He took a chance as he continued, although what he said might scupper his plans forever. "I also like how you look. You’re a dashed pretty girl, Emily. When you take the trouble, like you did for the reception at Pascoe Place, you’re beautiful."
She looked even more astounded. And disgruntled. It was clear the compliment didn’t please her.
"Are you saying you’re…attracted to me?" She asked the question as if she needed to wash her hands afterward.
Hamish controlled the childish impulse to tell her that if she didn’t find him appealing, plenty of other girls did. "I’m saying I’ve noticed that you’re a pleasure to look at."
When your mouth is closed.
That wasn’t entirely true either. When she wasn’t set on puncturing his conceit, she was clever and interesting.
"That’s not enough to build a life on."
It wasn’t. But it would have to be. "Emily, we must wed."
"So you can become Astronomer Royal." She sounded sour, although he couldn’t see why she should scorn his ambitions. She knew what it took to pursue a scientific career.
He kept his voice steady. "So your life doesn’t become impossible."
Her chin jerked up. "I can survive a bit of gossip."
She must know it was worse than that. "You and I were caught in an assignation, Emily. The world and its wife will talk of nothing else. If we don’t wed, you’ll be ruined. No respectable household will allow you across the threshold."
"I’ve always been considered an original."
"But a chaste one." He made an impatient sound. "For God’s sake, can I sit down? I feel like a bully, standing over you while you cower away."
That made her sit up straight and glare at him. "You don’t scare me."
Her defiance made Hamish feel better. This combative relationship was what he was used to. He crushed the memory of that strange moment when her vulnerability had made him want to pledge himself to her service. Jammed it deep down inside him, where he’d never have to look at it again.
"That’s a good start if we’re going to get married."
She stared at him, and he saw her mind whirring behind those hazel eyes. She gave a sigh and waved to the chair opposite the desk. "Oh, sit down, for pity’s sake. I invited you before."
The impatience in her voice was also familiar. Feeling on firmer ground, he took the chair. Although he hadn’t yet convinced her of the stark necessity for a wedding, he could see. "Thank you."
She studied him as if she’d never seen him before. When she finally spoke, she sounded less overwhelmed. "Why should we marry? We didn’t do anything wrong. Anyone who knows us will understand that you and I sneaking off to enjoy a romantic interlude is as likely as the Thames flowing west instead of east."
Bleak humor turned down his lips. "That makes the scandal even more delicious."
Her pointed chin set in a stubborn line. "I can weather a passing scandal. If I marry you, it’s forever."
In other circumstances, he might laugh at her bluntness. But the situation was too dire for amusement. "Yes."
Emily continued to regard him with that searching look that usually ended with a trenchant critique of one of his theories. "You can’t want this."
With a heavy sigh, he raked his hand through his hair. "It’s not about what I want. It’s about damage control."
"The damage will be you and I tied together for life. We’ll end up killing each other."