Once the man left, she sat on the floor, with the dishes all around her. Ethan shrugged and eased down with her, careful with his injury.
'Casual as ever,' she remarked.
'What's that supposed to mean?' he asked, reaching for a lobster dish, but she changed her grip on her fork to a dagger hold.
He raised his palms in surrender, his gaze flickering over her small frame as he said, 'You obviously need it more than I do.'
She couldn't seem to decide if that had been a cutting comment or a statement of fact. He couldn't either. 'Tell me what you meant,' he said.
'You acted so familiar with me that night in the carriage.'
'Aye, it happens when two people have intercourse.'
She glared at that. 'No, you acted as if we'd been together for years—just a night among many between us.'
Sometimes it felt that way….
'Here. I'll let you have this to eat,' she said, solemnly handing him agarnish . Then she took her first forkful, rolling her eyes with pleasure.
Though he would have thought she'd inhale her food, she savored each bite as if it would be her last. She had a sensual, tactile way of eating that was…stirring. When she ate juicy strawberries and clotted cream, he ran his hand over his mouth. When she licked the cream from her fingers, he uncomfortably shifted the way he sat. Any male could easily imagine her actions in a different light. Finally, he could take no more.
'Enough,' he said as he levered himself to his feet. 'You're going to make yourself sick.' He clasped her hand to help her up.
She reluctantly let him. 'But I haven't eaten more than a regular meal.'
'Which is still much more than you're accustomed to right now.'
When he led her, grumbling, to a seat at the empty dining table, she stared over her shoulder at the food. He again experienced that tightness in his chest, the same he'd felt when she'd been about to cry over her apple.
'Lass, there's more where that came from. You doona have to behave like it's your last meal.'
She laughed without humor. 'Spoken like a man who's never missed one.'
Chapter Eighteen
The Scot hadn't even raised a brow when tray after tray of food had arrived—fruit, pastries, lobster, salads, and a trio of desserts. Surveying all the dishes she'd just enjoyed, she realized he'd been right—the apple had been such a worthy sacrifice.
Yet Maddy had been suspicious when he'd wanted to dinein his room and had almost fled with the ring. Then she'd concluded that he didn't want to be in the restaurant because of his face, which was understandable, considering how extensive the scar was. She couldn't believe he'd hidden his true appearance from her that first night—willfully hidden it, even as he'd taken her.
He brought her glass of champagne to her seat at the table. Though she was already light-headed, he'd drunk nothing. She'd noticed before that he seemed to favor one side, and now he sat gingerly on the bed as though he was in pain.
'You told me you've lived alone since you were fourteen,' he said. 'I'm curious to know how you pay for rent and food.'
'You mean, if tonight's performance was any indication.' She'd lost more than she'd made—until the Scot had given her adiamond ! Unfortunately, it would be difficult to sell promptly for its true value. And she needed money immediately. But then, she'd already snared a gold watch from his bag and some silverware from the dinner settings.
He wisely said nothing to her comment. She wasn't keen on answering his questions, but she figured she'd have to until she could either eat more or pocket more of the silver. 'Sometimes I deal cards and sell cigarettes at a café near Montmartre.' She shrugged as she drank. 'If not that, then I run a shell game at fairs or bet themutuels on the side.'
'I saw the book by your bed. Doona tell me you consider yourself a Bohemian.'
'Not at all. The book is recent and set in a neighboring quarter. I was merely picking up tips on getting things for free. I have no sympathy for them, even the ones who are poorer than I am.' She absently murmured, 'Do you know how hard you would have to work to be poorer than me?' Shaking her head, she said, 'Many of them purposely leave their wealthy families to come starve in La Marais.'
'Quin told me your mother and stepfather live in St. Roch. Did you no' do the same by leaving?'
'My reason for leaving St. Roch had nothing to do withpretension . And it's a matter I don't wish to discuss.'
'What kind of woman lets her daughter live in the slum?'
Maddy set her glass down and rose, turning toward the door.
He lunged for her wrist, moving swiftly for such a big man. 'Just wait,' he said, gritting his teeth as though in pain.
She glared at his hand. 'I've told you I don't want to talk about it.'
'I will no' bring it up again.' He released her and she swished back to her chair, resuming her drinking. 'But I wonder that you're so inclined to leave when you've no' even heard why I'm here.'
'Yes, your 'proposition.' I'm quite certain I know what it is. You as much as told me so that night.'
'Aye, I'd thought about setting you up as my mistress. And it seems you might have waited in London until I returned, if this life was what you faced.'
'I didn't want to be your mistress. That would mean I would have to repeat the actions of that night.' She shuddered. 'I think I might rather die. The only way I'd ever endure that again is in marriage—'
'Then it appears I'll be marrying you,' he grated.
She gave him a look of pure disgust. 'I have had a day like no other, MacCarrick. I really don't need to sit here and listen to this.'
'What if I told you I came here specifically for you? To collect you and take you to Scotland to wed?'
'I'm in no mood for your jesting.' She stared at his impassive face with dawning horror. 'Oh, Lord, you're… serious.Marriage is what you've decided needs to be done with me?' In a panicked tone, she said, 'I only mentioned marriage because I was certain you'd violently balk again!'
He glowered at that, then seemed not to know how to proceed, running his hand over the back of his neck.
'You actually thought I'd welcome your proposal?' she sputtered in disbelief. The arrogance! 'You looked at my 'hovel' and thought I'd weep with joy and consider you my savior. Should I fall to my knees?'
'I think no,' else all that silver stowed in your skirt pocket will clink about like chimes.'
She quirked an eyebrow. She didn't get detected often, and she'd been careful tonight. He was good. 'I don't know what you're talking about.'
To his credit, he didn't press that subject, instead returning to the proposal. 'It would make sense that you might be pleased to receiveany offer of marriage.'
'You told me you wouldnever be moved to marry.' She made her tone woeful. 'Oh, if only I'd listened! Then I wouldn't have tried to trap you seconds later.'
'Things have changed. Recently I was injured, and it brought my life into focus. I have a title, and I've realized I need an heir, so I must marry.'
'What's your title?'
'I'm an earl in Scotland. The Earl of Kavanagh.'
'Planning to make me acountess ?' she breathed with wide eyes. 'How novel! I'venever heard that one in Montmartre.'
'It's true.'
'And why would you choose me?'
