Syd could easily change behind the screen.
“Here, Syd. Take off your clothes and put these on. I’ll turn around while you do.”
Octavian could not see over the screen since it was taller than even his impressive height, but wanted to give her that extra margin of comfort and turn away. Besides, he needed to get out of his own sopping wet clothes.
She hesitated, but nodded and dipped behind the screen.
He tossed a towel over it. “Use this to dry yourself off.”
“Stop giving me orders, Octavian. I know what to do.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he muttered under his breath, sincerely concerned about her state of mind. Lady Sydney Harcourt, albeit his dream woman– Lord, help him, what a disaster– was just as often the bane of his existence. Stubborn. Reckless. Too smart for her own good.
Too soft for her own good.
Unless he stopped her, she was going to sacrifice herself to save her undeserving father, the Earl of Harcourt, and Octavian had no intention of allowing this to happen. He tried to keep his heart from exploding within his chest as she tossed over each item she had been wearing until she had nothing left to toss and was now naked behind the screen.
Lord, help him.
His heart was not the only body part he could not seem to control.
He had just flung off his jacket, waistcoat, and shirt when she tipped her head around the screen and huffed. “It is not your place to rescue me from my father’s mistakes.”
He turned fully to face her and strode closer, wanting to grab her by the shoulders and shake sense into her. But he dared not touch her in his current state of arousal. How did this girl manage to turn him upside down? Most times, he did not even like her. “It is not your place to sacrifice yourself on the funeral pyre he created. I do not care what devil’s pact your father signed onto. Sir Henry is a blood-sucking leech and you are not going to marry him.”
Syd reached out and smacked him lightly on the shoulder. “Octavian! You haven’t the right to tell me what to do.”
He had every right because he was going to marry her whether she liked it or not. By heaven, he was going to protect her even if it killed him, which it probably would because this girl did not know how to stay out of trouble.
Since she was frowning at him, he suspected she was not going to be happy with his edict. Not that he cared. Someone had to inject sense into this situation.
Not that he was sensible in the least just now.
In leaning over to swat him, Syd had unwittingly given him a glimpse of a bare breast peeking out from under her tumble of hair. He took a step back before he knocked the screen aside and tossed her naked onto his bed.
“I am not discussing this with you,” he said with a growl and strode to the fireplace to stare into the flames while struggling to cool the heat pulsing through his loins. After a moment, he spoke again. “You are coming to Scotland with me. Your father will have no obligation to Sir Henry once his vowels are paid, is that right?”
“Yes.” Syd fumbled behind the screen to don her borrowed nightgown and robe. “Why are you asking me this? Octavian, do not be so foolish as to consider paying off Sir Henry.”
He had stripped out of all but his wet breeches, and thought it safest to keep them on for now. He needed that cold water at his loins because he refused to embarrass himself in front of Syd. She did not love him. He did not love her…that is, what he felt could not possibly be love since half the time he wanted to throttle her.
And yet, he responded to her like a bull in heat. “How great is the debt?”
It could not have been too extravagant since her father had cleared all his past debts only last year after sacrificing his nieceto his then largest creditor, a surly but otherwise honest Scot. By chance, the pair fell in love.
Syd would have no such luck.
Sir Henry was repulsive in every way.
Yes, the better plan was to grab Syd and haul her off to safety, her father be damned. Afterward, they would work out the details of a debt repayment and agree to some sort of betrothal arrangement or marriage settlement. Yes, it had to be a marriage settlement. He did not want Syd continuing to be at risk because she was merely betrothed to him. Her father would never honor that betrothal, nor even suffer a pang of conscience before stealing Syd and marrying her off to that repugnant oaf, Sir Henry, or another of his creditors. “We can marry in Scotland without your father’s consent.”
“I am going to beat you about the head if you repeat that suggestion. You must let me go to Sir Henry,” Syd said, her voice tight with despair. “Please.My father’s debt to him exceeds five thousand pounds. I cannot ask you to pay off such a vast sum. So you see, his life is at risk unless my marriage to Sir Henry goes through.”
“And what of your life? Save your breath, Syd. I am not allowing him to sell you into bondage for his mistakes. You are not a commodity to be traded in this fashion.”
“I know you mean well, but–”
“Be quiet.” Octavian knew he could be a rude arse at times, but did this occasion not warrant it? “You are not talking your way out of this.”
