“No, you deliberately misled me,” Maddy began. She was practically toe-to-toe with his brother.
“And you defied me, madam.”
“Children, children, stop this unseemly brangling,” Nash said soothingly, though truth to tell he was enjoying the sight of his fiery little fiancée ripping into his normally cool, contained brother.
They both ignored him. “Why did you not simply tell me who you were? Why stalk in here under false pretenses and start throwing threats around?” Maddy demanded.
Nash would wager nobody had ever spoken to Marcus like that in his life. He had their father’s knack of silent intimidation.
It obviously didn’t work on Maddy.
Marcus stared down his long nose at her. “Because I was under the impression that Nash was injured and being held prisoner by you, possibly to prevent him leaving, or possibly in exchange for a pair of new boots. That part was not clear.”
“Held in exchange for a pair of boots?” Maddy scoffed. “That’s ridiculous! Why on earth would I want a pair of man’s riding boots?”
“I have no idea,” he said coldly. “For all I knew you were a madwoman.” His tone implied the suspicion still lingered.
“Why did you not tell me who you were? Why pretend to be a lawyer?”
“Nash told me he was traveling incognito. Naturally, after such a request, I would not reveal his identity or mine.”
They both turned to Nash for an explanation. “Well?”
Nash stared at his brother. “Traveling incognito? Held prisoner by Miss Woodford in exchange for a pair of boots? What the devil are you talking about, Marcus?”
For answer, his brother pulled out a letter and handed it to him. Nash read over his hastily scrawled message and began to laugh. “I see the problem. I was writing in haste, you see.”
Marcus, was injured but am recovering. Give Miss Woodford whatever she wants. Am at her cottage incognito. Funny business going on. Boots slashed, send new ones urgently. Nash.
“Let me see that.” Maddy twitched the letter from his fingers and glanced at it. She saw his scrawl in the margins of her letter, and her jaw dropped. “But this is my letter. I sealed it myself. How did you manage to write this message in a sealed letter?”
“Ah,” Nash began. “It was when I’d got my memory back but before I told you who I—”
“You opened my letter,” she said fiercely. “You know how I feel about people who read other people’s letters!”
“But there was nothing personal in th—”
Her eyes flashed. “It doesn’t matter what the contents are! The very act is—”
“No, no, you are very right and I promise I will never do it to you again,” he said, holding up his hands in surrender. Her amber eyes glittered. She took several deep, steadying breaths, trying to harness her ire. Her breasts rose and fell delectably.
Nash wished his brother and Lizzie would just go away. She was adorable like this, with her temper up, all rosy and flushed and lovely. Ripe for a tumbling.
“Oh, I see,” Marcus said suddenly.
They both looked at him.
“She’s your mistress. It all makes sense now.”
“I am not his mistress!” Maddy snapped. And then flushed, recalling that by the usual definitions, she, in fact, was.
“She’s not my mistress; she’s my affianced bride,” Nash told his brother.
“What?” Marcus’s normally flinty eyes nearly fell out of their sockets. “You are betrothed to this, this . . .”
“Lovely lady, yes,” Nash said smoothly, his own eyes gimlet hard and delivering a silent message to his brother.
“I knew you were in trouble,” said Marcus in a grim voice. “So she’s trapped you into—”
