“Obviously not. Otherwise you would never have let me interrupt such a charming scene.”
Her eyes widened at his savage tone. He had evidently misconstrued an innocent situation, but she couldn’t think of what to say in order to clear up his misunderstanding. He was reacting out of male possessiveness, Roslyn was certain. He couldn’t possibly be jealous; his emotions weren’t engaged strongly enough to warrant jealousy.
Yet the silence became thick and palpable as Drew descended the steps and moved to stand before the earl. “She is betrothed to me, Haviland.”
“So I hear,” his lordship responded in a much milder tone. “But you can acquit me of poaching on your turf, your grace.”
“Can I?”
Haviland raised a dark eyebrow. “I have said so, haven’t I?”
Tension vibrated between the two men. Drew looked ready to have the earl’s blood, but his tone was low and deceptively controlled when he spoke. “Only touch her again and you won’t see another dawn.”
At the threat, Roslyn gasped while Haviland’s eyes narrowed sharply. “You are laboring under a misapprehension, Arden-”
Drew cut him off. “Spare your breath unless you have a death wish. Now I’ll thank you to take your leave.”
The earl stiffened, his eyes suddenly snapping with fury. For a moment, Roslyn remained speechless, too stunned and mortified to countermand Drew’s order, but then she finally found her voice. “Your grace, that is quite enough!”
Haviland shifted his gaze to glance at her. Although restraining his own wrath, he clearly wasn’t inclined to leave her defenseless and alone with the duke. “Will you be all right?”
“Yes…I am certain I will. Thank you for the invitation, my lord.”
“Very well-but I am just next door if you need me. Good day, Miss Loring.”
With a bow, Haviland turned and strode off.
When the earl had let himself out of the gate, leaving Roslyn alone with Drew, she whirled on him. “What, may I ask, brought on that abominable display of manners? You do not have leave to dismiss my guests, or to threaten them!”
“It was no threat. I meant every word.”
Roslyn stared at Drew in disbelief. “Have you taken leave of your senses?”
“Not in the least. You’re still enamored of him, and I won’t stand for it.”
His tone was cold, without inflection, but she felt her own ire rise. “You won’t stand for
“Your trysts with Haviland.”
“My…trysts?” Her mouth dropped open. She would have sputtered in indignation except that she was too stunned. “You actually think I might be engaged in an illicit affair with Lord Haviland? When I am betrothed to you?”
“I doubt our betrothal would prove an impediment.”
She was shocked that Drew would believe her capable of such betrayal. “You think I could make love to you the way we did last night and then turn around and…What kind of cold-blooded woman do you take me for?”
His expression turned hooded. “You wouldn’t be the first to pretend interest in me, only to have another lover waiting in the wings.”
“How dare you?” Roslyn whispered. “How dare you accuse me of such perfidy? I have far more honor than that.”
“Do you?”
She felt as if he’d slapped her. The breath left her lungs, while a sudden ache burned her throat. “If you have such a poor reading of my character…” With effort, she swallowed and turned away. “I refuse to discuss this any further-”
“Don’t walk away from me, Roslyn!”
At his fierce explosion, Roslyn jumped and came to a halt. She was suddenly shaking, but she forced herself to glance back at him. “You have no right to command me. I am not your possession, nor am I your mistress whose services you have purchased.”
“I do so have a right.” Drew took a step toward her, his jaw clenched. “And I want an answer now. Do you love that bastard?”
“I beg your pardon?” Roslyn demanded, flinching at the derogatory label.
“Haviland…do you love him?”
“My feelings for him are none of your concern!”
“They bloody well are my concern! We are betrothed, or had you forgotten?”
Her hands curled into fists. “Our betrothal is only temporary, for the sake of appearance.”
“There is nothing temporary about it. You
“You can go to perdition!”
“Then you will damned well join me!”
Roslyn felt the blood drain from her face. Drew had shouted at her, and she had shouted right back at him.
She stared at him, unable to speak. Her chest was tight, while a sick feeling knotted her stomach.
“I have to go…” she rasped finally, turning from him again and making rapidly for the house.
“Roslyn, come back here!”
She clamped her hands over her ears, hearing the echo of her parents’ many arguments over the years. She couldn’t bear their shouting then, couldn’t bear to have Drew shouting at her now. So she simply ran.
“Roslyn!” Drew called after her, his tone harsh with anger.
Roslyn paid him no heed. She ran, couldn’t stop running. She sped along the gravel path and stumbled up the stone steps to the terrace, instinctively heading for her sanctuary, the library. Her vision had blurred while a rushing filled her ears.
“Roslyn…” There was an edge of concern to his voice as well as anger, but she didn’t stop.
She found the open French door and burst through into the library, pushing it shut behind her.
She stood there quivering, heart pounding. She could still hear voices raised in anger…her parents fiercely arguing…Mama accusing Papa of infidelity…Mama sobbing.
She wouldn’t cry, Roslyn vowed. She wouldn’t let herself fall apart. Yet the tremors wouldn’t stop. Lunging blindly across the library, Roslyn climbed into the window seat and huddled there. She wanted to curl herself into a tiny, invisible ball, just as she had when she was a child.
She was shaking the same way now. She wrapped her arms around herself, but it was hard to pull enough air into her lungs. She couldn’t catch her breath. And she kept hearing the echo of her parents’ voices.
Eyes shut, she tried to block them out. She held herself tightly, willing them to go away as she battled the ghosts of her childhood.
A sound escaped her throat, half laugh, half sob. How many times had she done this very thing-taken refuge in the library to escape her parents’ angry altercations? At home in Hampshire she’d crawled behind the window seat curtains, keeping her hands clasped over her ears until her sisters found her and offered her comfort.
Another shudder wracked her, but Roslyn forced herself to drag in a raw breath, striving for calm. She was an adult now. She didn’t need Lily to hold her hand.
She didn’t need Lily to tell her she was a fool, either. How could she have ever thought she could wed Drew? If they were fighting this way after being betrothed for barely a fortnight, what would their marriage be like?
It would be her worst fear realized, their union degenerating into the horrible, antagonistic relationship her parents had had.
But what else could she hope for? a voice inside Roslyn cried out. Drew was never going to love her. Not if he could doubt her word so flagrantly as he had a moment ago. Real love meant trusting, and if he couldn’t trust her to behave with honor and integrity…
A fierce shiver coursed through her. She had to end their betrothal at once. If she was hurting this intensely now, how much greater would the hurt be if she let it continue? It was frightening to think of battling Drew like this once she came to love him.
