“From what I hear it is too late to worry about your virtue.” He hadn’t meant his words to sound so blunt, but anger burned inside. It was too late to offer advice about the company she kept, and he blamed Vane for her lack of judgement. “Only marriage can save you now.”
“Marriage?” Lillian gave a mocking snort. “How foolish of me. Why did I not think of it before? I’ll simply pick one of the many men clambering over each other to marry the disreputable sister of a scoundrel.”
Fabian fell silent. He relished those few seconds of peace, for his world was about to erupt into a cacophony of questions and protests. “Why pick another man when you can marry me?”
Chapter Three
“Marry you! Are you out of your mind?” Lillian swallowed to clear the lump in her throat. This was not the first time Fabian Darcy had tormented her for his own amusement. “Is that your penance for kidnapping? Or is this where you lie and tell me you’ve admired me since I was a girl?”
“That depends. Does my motive have any bearing on your answer?”
The breeze caught the open neck of his shirt, drawing her gaze to the bronzed skin beneath. She’d spied on him once, had seen his bare chest as he wrestled with Vane on the lawn one summer’s evening when her parents were away. His shoulders were broader now. Judging by the muscular thighs filling his breeches, she imagined the rest of him was equally impressive.
&n
bsp; “You need a husband,” he continued, “and I seem to be the only man offering.”
“Have you offered? It sounded more like a cruel joke to me.” Before she could utter another word, Fabian grabbed her hand. The sudden jolt of awareness made her gasp. “Let go of me.” She tried to break free, but his grip was firm.
“Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?” He brought her hand to his mouth and brushed his warm lips over her knuckles. Every nerve in her body sprang to life. He gazed deeply into her eyes, and for a moment he looked sincere. “Marry me, Lillian.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Lillian shook her head as he released her hand. Her stomach flipped, and she felt giddy. Perhaps she was still suffering from the effects of the punch. “Is it to be retribution, then? Are you so intent on punishing Vane that you would shackle yourself to me?”
Fabian shrugged one shoulder. “I must admit, the thought of causing your brother pain pleases me no end.”
A small part of her wished he had lied. Could he not have said he found her enchanting? Could he not have invented a fairy tale? One that spoke of a destitute lord making his fortune on the high seas so he could return to claim a lost love.
But this had nothing to do with love. This was a clear act of spite and revenge.
“What makes you think I’m desperate enough to accept?” It didn’t matter that she’d dreamt of marrying him when she was fifteen and he was a happy, carefree gentleman of twenty. “You may despise my brother, but I love him. What makes you think I would hurt him by frolicking with his enemy?”
The corners of Fabian’s mouth curled up into a sinful smile. “Are you not a woman who craves adventure? Does the thought of frolicking with a pirate not hold some fascination?”
“Not anymore.” Once, she’d told him she planned to see the world, to dance beneath the stars in exotic locations. The two years spent in Italy were equivalent to a lifetime in Hell. Now all she wanted was someone to talk to, someone who cared and might one day grow to love her.
Fabian searched her face. “You’ve always put Vane first. Is it not time to consider your needs? Is he not the reason you’re in this predicament? And I speak of your ruined reputation, not the fact I rescued you from a tedious existence.”
A weak chuckle escaped her lips, although he was right in one respect. Life was exceedingly dull. “I’ve never been selfish. What I want, you cannot give me.” She wanted love, devotion and trust but the Raven’s tainted heart lacked the capacity for anything other than vengeance.
“That’s where you’re wrong.” He closed the gap between them, reached into her coiffure, pulled out the pins and discarded them on the floor. “I know exactly what you want.”
“What are you doing?” Her knees almost buckled as the pads of his fingers tangled in her hair. She should have slapped his hand away but the intimacy of the moment fed the starving loneliness within.
“Here, you can do as you please.” He caressed one ebony curl as it slipped through his fingers. “There is no one to judge you. Wear your hair down, let the wind blow every strand free. Dress in breeches if you so desire.”
He stood too close. The unique scent of his skin teased her nostrils, a combination of leather, spice and the salty sea air. Dark stubble covered his sculpted jaw. The sound of his voice proved hypnotic.
What was it he promised if not love?
“Here, you need not wear silk.” His fingers skimmed the sleeves of her gown, and she shivered when they drifted towards the base of her throat and settled on her gold locket. “You have no need for trinkets or baubles.” He wrapped his fingers around the chain, and for one heart-stopping moment, she thought he was about to rip it from her neck.
Fear gripped her, crushing the last breath from her lungs. “Get your damn hands off my locket.” The words came out exactly as she intended: a low, menacing growl.
Fabian jerked his head back and pulled his hand away as if he’d touched metal fresh from the furnace.
“You may do what the hell you want to me.” To some extent, she’d given up caring. “But touch that locket again, and you’ll be begging for Vane to come and save you.” Bile burned in her throat when she thought of losing her prized possession. “Do not test me, Fabian, else you may discover that I am no longer the sweet young girl you remember.”
Sucking in a deep breath, he inclined his head by way of an apology. “What is so precious—”