“What does it matter?” She sat back down onto the bed. “Anyway, I won’t suffer anyone associated with that man.” She angled her head to him. “What do you say about that? To me, there is no difference between him and anyone who mingles with him.”
“But there is a difference.” His voice lowered even more. “The difference is that I asked your father for your hand.”
True.
Still . . .
“The difference is that he was dead to me the moment you said you didn’t like him.”
Lawd.He did it again.Said words that set her pulse racing.
“Harriet . . . I’m sorry that happened to you.”
Harriet couldn’t miss the sincerity in his gaze, his voice, the look of anger that still darkened his face. She averted her gazeand shut her eyes once more. “I saw you laugh with him right after.”
“It was fake. It’s always fake.”
Harriet smiled at his quick reply. Somehow, she believed him.
“In any event, I don’t want to talk about that odious man anymore.” Drowsiness was beginning to set in. And with it, the prickle of that particular thorn slowly melted away.
If she was being entirely honest with herself, while she did hold a bit of a grudge against Leeds over his behavior and his cronies—all right, a bit of a big one—the true culprit inthissituation was still her father. He could have spoken to her about Leeds’s offer. He could have declined.
And if at the end of all this she chose not to fulfill the betrothal agreement, she would still have to return home. To her father. Suddenly Harriet didn’t want to return home anymore to people who only wanted to be rid of her. But then just where did she belong?
It wasn’t until the pull of sleep had dragged her to its depth that a resonating thought fluttered against the walls of her mind.
Leeds smelled nice.
*
Will covered Harrietwith a blanket. He reached out to draw his fingers through a wayward strand of her silky hair but stopped before his fingers made contact.
His strong desire for the woman in the bed almost brought him to his knees. He wanted to claim her in every way imaginable. He wanted there to be no doubt in anyone’s mind that she belonged with him. And no man would ever dare touch her again. No man would dare hurt her.
He retracted his hand before he made another blunder. What he needed to do was come up with a plan. A plan to woo his bride-to-be.
He couldn’t change what had already happened, but he could try to make her feel secure and safe from this moment on. At the very least, try to prove that he was not of the same deplorable character as Cromby.
Turning on his heel, he returned to his seat, taking up the position of her protector. He stared at the outline of her slight form while trying his best to control his breathing, not certain if he was succeeding or not.
Fury swirled in his gut. Deep, all-consuming fury.
What the devil had Cromby done? How dare he force a kiss on an innocent lady?Hislady. No wonder she resisted this match so much. She’d gone through a horrific event, and she’d gone through it alone. Suffered what Cromby had done in silence.
Damn it.
Cromby had never been a man of character—that was not a secret—and they certainly were not friends. But clearly even his tolerance of the man had been a mistake. One he paid for now.
Regardless, Cromby’s actions were unforgivable. Hewoulddeal with the man. Now, at least, he had a clearer idea about why Harriet was so bent on running away from him. She truly did associate him with Cromby’s ilk and had good reason to fear such men.
His chest hurt.
He could not even imagine what she must have gone through in those moments. Yet, being the woman she was, she not only bore it alone, but also did not cower and hide. She’d shown to ball after ball, event after event. Hopeful and chin high.
He admired the hell out of her.
But allowing Cromby’s name to be in any way connected to his own wasn’t his only mistake. Why the hell hadn’t he courted her? Why had he allowed his own fear to hold him back? Making an utter fool of himself wouldn’t have been the end of the world. He would have survived the embarrassment.
