Nicole Jordan (9 page)

“Not to mention the ignominy of your disappearance,” her aunt continued scornfully. “You vanish for an entire night and return with this…this criminal.” Her nose rising two inches, she looked down it at Lasseter, while disdain dripped from her voice. “No, there is no hope for it. We must find a husband for you at once.”

Raven stiffened at the raw nerve her aunt had struck. “I will not allow you to find a husband for me, Aunt Catherine.”

“What do you mean,you won’t allow it ? Marriage is the only thing that could possibly save us from utter ruination!”

“Perhaps so, but you won’t choose my husband for me.”

“You obviously have no conception of the shame you have brought down upon our heads!”

“I understand quite well, Aunt, but I won’t meekly permit you to marry me off the way you did my mother.”

Lady Dalrymple drew herself up to her full height. “I cannot credit your insolence! This is the gratitude you show me for taking you in? Well, hear me, young lady. You are no longer welcome in my house!”

“That is quite enough, Catherine!” her brother exclaimed.

“No, Grandfather,” Raven said tightly. “She is right. It would be best for all of us if I left. I will not remain where I am not wanted.”

Defiance blazed in her eyes, and from the sidelines of the battle, Kell watched in fascination. She reminded him of his mother when her Irish temper was riled; Raven Kendrick was scrappy like his mother, certainly. A beautiful spitfire who aroused his own primitive male instincts more keenly than any woman he’d ever met.

Against his will and better judgment, he’d begun to admire her spirit and courage in the face of adversity, not to mention her sharp wit and beauty. A supremely dangerous combination.

Mentally Kell shook his head, realizing how significantly his opinion of her had changed in a few short hours. Until this morning, he’d thought his brother almost justified in wanting revenge against a treacherous temptress who took cruel pleasure in destroying men’s lives. Yet now Kell found himself questioning that version of the tale, and worse—struggling against the unwanted feelings of protectiveness Raven Kendrick stirred in him.

She was still a dangerous temptress, he had no doubt, but the vulnerability in her remarkable eyes struck a responsive chord in him. After what his brother had done to her, he honestly didn’t want to see her hurt further. And the scorn she was facing just now lay bare his own raw memories of his mother’s treatment at the hands of her contemptuous English in-laws.

He felt fiercely compelled to defend Miss Kendrick, although she seemed to be holding her own well enough against her dragon of an aunt. She was trembling with courageous anger. The stubborn set of her jaw couldn’t disguise the loveliness of its line, or suppress her inner fire. The kind of fire a man could sink right into…

Shaking off his errant thoughts, he reluctantly stepped into the fray. “Might I have a word with you, Miss Kendrick? In private?”

She broke off her heated argument with her aunt to stare at him, while Lady Dalrymple snapped, “What can you possibly have to say in this matter? You have done quite enough damage!”

“Leave him alone, Aunt Catherine!” her niece responded. “You have no right to take your anger out on Mr. Lasseter. And I would be pleased to speak to him.”

Impulsively she grasped his hand to draw him out of the salon, and Kell was stunned when his body reacted at her merest touch; without warning he felt hot desire pulsing to life within him—unexpected, unwelcome, but undeniable.

He voiced a silent oath and allowed Miss Kendrick to lead him from the room and along the corridor to the adjacent dining room.

Releasing his hand then, she shut the door behind them and began to pace the Aubusson carpet, her eyes glittering with some wild, reckless emotion. Kell watched her curiously, but she seemed to have forgotten his presence.

Finally she recalled herself and sent him a disapproving glance. “Given your wound, you should sit down.”

“It would hardly be the act of a gentleman to sit while you stand.”

“Nowyou are claiming to be a gentleman?” she asked tartly.

He found it hard to repress a smile. “I know your dander is up from doing battle with the dragon, but there is no reason to flay me with your tongue.”

She took a calming breath, obviously trying to gain control of her emotions. “Yes, you are right. Forgive me. I should not have allowed her to goad me.”

It gave him some measure of satisfaction that she had actually offered an apology, and he felt less resentment about what he was obliged to do.

“I have a question for you, vixen,” he said. “Why did you lie about your abduction? Why didn’t you give up my brother?”

She hesitated before exhaling in a sigh. “Because I realized that I owed you a debt. You saved me from your brother’s revenge, possibly even rape. Moreover, I wasn’t certain what my grandfather would do to you if he knew the role you played. At the time, I feared he might call you out. With his heart condition, he is much too frail to duel—or he might have been wounded or killed. And then there was the matter of justice. As you said, your brother had suffered a great deal already.” She shrugged. “So now we are even.”

His mouth curled at the corner. “We’re hardly even. You seem to be forgetting that you shot me.”

“But you held me prisoner.” Her blue eyes held a renewed spark of defiance.

Deciding to retreat rather than fight that battle once more, Kell changed the subject. “I assume it is beyond question that your duke will still have you?”

Suddenly reluctant to meet his gaze, she looked away. “Entirely. You heard my aunt…Halford has washed his hands of me. And I cannot really blame him. Several hundred people saw me jilt him at the altar.”

“You don’t believe he could be persuaded to change his mind?”

“I am certain of it. The Duke of Halford is a stickler for propriety, and his pride is legendary. I came to know him well enough over the course of our betrothal. He would have been enraged by so public an humiliation. Besides, he would never accept a bride who had spent the night in another man’s bed. Even if I could somehow manage to conceal…what happened last night”—her face flushed—“I couldn’t lie to him on so important a matter.”

“I don’t suppose so,” Kell said broodingly.

“So what did you wish to discuss with me?” she asked.

He drew a slow breath, steeling himself. “I am prepared to offer for your hand in marriage, Miss Kendrick.”

Her sharp intake of breath proclaimed her shock. She stared at him a long moment before finally speaking. “You have no desire to marry me, I’m certain. Why ever would you make me such an offer?”

Kell raked a hand roughly through his hair, torn by the instincts that were warring inside him. He’d known from the first moment he found Raven Kendrick in his bed that her abduction could have disastrous consequences. He just hadn’t wanted to face the possibilities. Nor did he want to be forced into matrimony with the heartbreaker who had made his brother’s life such a misery.

But his conscience was smiting him now. And he felt honor bound to make amends for what Sean had done to her. He had to at least give Miss Kendrick the option of marrying him, even if he fervently hoped she would refuse his proposal.

“Because marriage would salvage your reputation to some extent. And I am interested in keeping my brother out of prison. I am willing to wed you if you will agree not to press charges.”

She raised a hand to her temple as if dazed. Moving to the dining room table, she pulled out a chair and sank into it. “I presume you are proposing a marriage of convenience?”

“Yes. Afterward we can go our separate ways. Something could be arranged so that we needn’t see much of each other.”

She remained silent, looking down at her hands.

“Before you answer, Miss Kendrick,” Kell commented, “you should be fully aware of my reputation. You think me an ill-mannered blackguard, and I won’t dispute it. And society does not exactly hold me in high esteem. I own a gaming hell. And my Irish blood ensures that any number of doors are closed to me. Not to mention that I lack a title of any kind.”

She winced as if that realization pained her. “I know,” she said in a low voice. To his surprise he saw tears spring to her eyes, but she brushed them away furiously. Eventually she glanced up at him, as if a new thought had struck her. “What did my aunt mean when she said it was common knowledge that you murdered your uncle?”

All the muscles in his body went stiff. Finally Kell said, “There have long been rumors that I killed my uncle in a fit of rage.”

Her intent gaze searched his face. “And did you?”

“Would you believe me if I said no?”

“Yes,” she answered slowly. “I think I would. I don’t put much stock in rumors. Last spring my bro—a dear friend of mine was accused of being a murderer and sentenced to hang, but he was entirely justified in his actions.”

She had surprised him once again, Kell realized, with her novel attitude. He would have to learn not to underestimate the unconventional Miss Kendrick.

As for answering her question, however…he had no intention of divulging the truth, although he was indeed suspected of murder. The dark rumors about his past had followed him from Ireland where his uncle had died, and Kell had never made any attempt to deny them.

“I think I can safely say that my uncle’s death was justified,” Kell replied enigmatically.

She nodded slowly, then rose to her feet to pace the room again. At length she stopped and clasped her hands together, possibly to still her agitation. “Perhaps you are right,” she said, looking at him. “Marriage is my only option. I am facing ruination. I will be branded a total pariah in society if I don’t find a husband at once.”

Kell didn’t care for her reply at all. “Keep in mind that your family will have fierce objections to our marriage. Your great-aunt thinks me a criminal.”

Her mouth twisted briefly in a grimace. “The fact that my aunt holds you in aversion is frankly an argument in your favor.”

“And you would wed an unsuitable husband just to spite her?”

“No, of course not. But I won’t allow her to dictate to me.”

The rebellious flash of heat in her eyes struck another chord in Kell. He understood rebellion; he was a rebel himself. But that didn’t mean he wanted to encourage her to accept his offer.

He gave her a measuring stare, deliberately trying to unsettle her.

In response she squared her shoulders. “No matter how notorious your reputation, Mr. Lasseter, you would still be immeasurably better than no husband at all. Unwed, I stand no chance of ever showing my face again in society. I think it vastly unfair, but it is a fact of life. And I am hardly in a position to be overly discriminating.”

“Yet you just told your aunt you refused to marry.”

“No. I said I refused to accept her choice.”

“There is a difference?”

“A tremendous difference. It is a long story but…my mother was compelled by her family to marry a man she…disliked. And I have no intention of following in her footsteps.”

Her blue eyes were filled with pain, Kell noted. “Still, there must be other better marital candidates than I.”

“I can think of no one on such short notice. Even if I were to try to find someone willing to wed me, I run the risk of exposing myself further. If I were turned down…there would be no possible way to keep my circumstances a secret.”

“You could leave the country, as I suggested earlier.”

“And live as an outcast? That is even more repugnant to me than being compelled to wed.” Her voice dropped to a murmur, but it was filled with trembling anger. “My mother spent most of her life preparing me to join the society she was denied, and she would have been devastated to know she’d failed in her life’s goal. And I’m certain my grandfather will rest easier if I can manage to avert disaster. My aunt as well.”

Kell raised a skeptical eyebrow. “After your aunt’s virulent display of sympathy, I fail to comprehend why you would want to comfort her.”

“Because I don’t want my family to suffer because of me. But to have any hope of shielding them, I will have to wed immediately. The servants have already witnessed my return, and they will not keep quiet for long.”

Denial was Kell’s first impulse, but he couldn’t refute that her points were good ones.

“You appear to be regretting your offer already,” she said when he was silent.

Kell shifted uneasily, not knowing which was causing him more discomfort, his injured thigh or the knot that had formed low in his belly. “I am a bachelor, Miss Kendrick. You’ll understand if I’m not eager to hang in the parson’s noose.”

Her brow furrowed, and she hesitated a moment before asking, “Do you have someone in mind you would prefer to wed?”

“No, vixen, I don’t,” Kell said dryly. “I hadn’t intended to wed at all. Certainly not anytime in the near future.”

“I suppose you keep a mistress. Most men of means do.”

His eyebrows shot up at her plain speaking, but the flush on her cheeks suggested the topic wasn’t a comfortable one for her.

“Truly,” she added, “I wouldn’t mind if you continue to have your paramours.”

“Your generosity overwhelms me,” he drawled.

“Well, you might find our union financially advantageous. I have an adequate income of my own—a fund provided by my…father. And my grandfather promised me a significant dowry when I wed.”

“I don’t require your wealth,” Kell declared, annoyed at her assumption that he could be bought.

She moistened her lips, drawing his attention there against his will. “Well, unless you mean to withdraw your offer, I think I must accept it.”

Still fighting the inevitable, Kell narrowed his own gaze at her. “You really should consider carefully, vixen. I promise you, I would make you a terrible husband.”

Pinning her with his midnight eyes, he moved toward her.

Raven took a defensive step backward, finding his intense stare unnerving. She was still amazed by his offer. And he would no doubt make her adreadful husband. He was a notorious gamester, a stranger who didn’t even like her. Without question, he would be disagreeable and unmanageable as a spouse. And she had deliberately shot him….