A telling point. One that enabled him to consider her statement with something approaching mild detachment.
“Why?” He kept his tone even, purely curious.
Not that he needed to ask; that was what she’d come there to tell him.
“Let’s consider how we came to this point-the events that led to what occurred last night on Lady Porthleven’s terrace.”
“I kissed you, and you kissed me. And we both enjoyed it.”
“Indeed.” She paused as if debating whether to modify that acknowledgment, but then she drew in a huge breath and continued pacing, addressing the stretch of carpet before her feet. “But regardless, looking back-correct me if I err, but this started with you taking some nonsensical notion into your head that you needed to get to know me better. Subsequently, when I informed you I had no interest in dalliance, you decided convincing me otherwise would be a good idea-and one way and another, that led to last night.” She shot him a glance that was close to a glare. “Is that correct?”
He debated telling her of the initiating action, the point she didn’t know-the reason he’d needed to get to know her better-for all of one second. “That succession of events is materially accurate.”
“Exactly.” She grew more agitated, but she hid it well; it was only by her hands that he could tell. “So there is absolutely no reason behind what occurred on her ladyship’s terrace beyond your whim.”
He opened his mouth.
She silenced him with an upraised finger, even though she wasn’t looking at him. “No-hear me out. That’s all you need to do. Against the worth of your whim stand these facts. One”-she ticked off the point on her finger as she paced-“I am Harry’s regent, his surrogate, and will be for six more years. Two, you are Crowhurst, and as such you and I need to do business with each other on numerous issues, on at least a weekly basis. Three, we are, you and I, the principal landowners in the district, and as such hold positions as effective community leaders.”
She paused at the end of the track she was wearing in his rug, then swung to face him, eyes narrow, her chin set. “I have absolutely no interest in jeopardizing any of those functions in order to accommodate any more of your whims.”
Madeline paused only to draw breath before continuing, “And before you say anything, permit me to remind you I am considerably more than seven. Before you think to even obliquely suggest that dalliance between us might lead to something more, allow me to inform you I am well aware that you couldn’t, wouldn’t, not in this world or the next, imagine me as your wife.”
She cast him a sharp glance-and saw that his expression, until then impassive, had at last changed. Now it was hard-no, stony. His eyes had narrowed; his lips parted-she rode over him again. “For instance, I know perfectly well that your whim to get to know me better was assuredly not driven by any sincere interest in me as a woman-you’ve known me for years, so why now? Because there are no other ladies in the vicinity at present, at least none to your taste, and you are therefore suffering from boredom, if not ennui.
“But I was about, hence your whim. But as we both know, I’m far too old to be considered eligible for the position of your countess. I have none of the airs, graces and aspirations that would be considered right and proper for the position-and am unlikely to develop them, as everyone in the district-even you-knows!”
She barely paused for breath. “Beyond that, my temper and attitudes are entirely incompatible with being your wife.” She wagged a finger at him as she swept past his desk. “We are far too alike to deal well on a daily, household basis, not that you ever actually intended of that, of course.”
At the end of her track, she swung to face him. “Which brings me to my peroration. Given you’re not thinking of marriage, and have no true interest in me-and you needn’t pretend you’ve suddenly been visited by some overpowering urge to make me your mistress-then”-she met his gaze-“as you have no motive whatever beyond satisfying a passing whim, you should cease and desist from this nonsensical pursuit of me.”
Gervase stared at her. His initial impulse was to argue-although deciding which ludicrous point to attack first would take some time. However…as he held her gaze, looked into the stormy seas of her swirling emotions, heard again her voice as she’d catalogued her virtues-missing most-it occurred to him that arguing would almost certainly get him nowhere.
She believed what she’d said. Absolutely, beyond question.
Her words had been rehearsed, yet had rung with conviction.
She honestly didn’t believe he would ever consider, let alone want, her as his wife. And as for desire-she didn’t believe she could inspire that either, at least not in him.
Of course, she’d nicely pricked his ego in numerous places, at least one of which he was disinclined to forgive. She’d all but accused him of trifling with her affections, preying on her finer feelings for idle sport. He didn’t like that, not at all, yet how the hell was he to deal with her now?
Without completely sinking himself in the process.
She met his stare with one of her own, then uttered a small humph and folded her arms. Tightly. Beneath her very ample breasts. Making it even more difficult for him to keep his eyes locked on hers, let alone think.
Her lips pursed. For half a minute, she actually tapped her toe.
Finally she uttered a frustrated sound, and demanded, “Well?”
“Well what?” She hadn’t asked any question, and he certainly had no answers. Not yet.
Her eyes stated she knew he was being willfully obtuse. “Will you agree to cease pursuing me and instead treat me as you previously have?”
He held her gaze for a moment, then sat back. “No.”
Her eyes widened until they resembled silver discs. The Valkyrie was back. “What do you mean, no?”
Had he been less experienced in battle, he would no doubt have cowered and beat a hasty retreat. Instead, he considered her, then evenly stated, “You’ll do perfectly well warming my bed.”
“What?” Thunderstruck, she stared at him. Any doubts he’d had over her complete blindness to her own attractions were slain by the dumfounded look in her eyes. Then she drew herself up; cool dignity fell about her like a cloak. “Stop it,” she said. “You know you don’t want me-”
“Madeline.” He waited until her eyes met his. “What did you imagine that kiss was about?”
She blinked, then frowned at him. “I…haven’t the faintest notion. Why don’t you tell me?”
“That kiss was intended to reveal whether or not we were compatible.” He held her gaze. “In case you aren’t sure how to interpret the result, let me assure you we are.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Compatible as to what?”
He arched a brow; who was being willfully obtuse now? “Leaving aside the subject of marriage-”
“Please don’t insult my intelligence by mentioning it.”
He considered her raised hand, her contemptuous expression, replayed her words and listened to her tone. No matter what he said, no matter the force of any arguments he advanced, she wasn’t going to believe it was marriage he had in mind.
Even though it was. He no longer harbored the slightest doubt on that score, not since he’d followed her from Lady Porthleven’s terrace.
But her disbelief-more, her inability to believe-left him few options. “Very well. As I said, leaving that aside, after last night, I have one, perfectly sane, rational, logical and sensible goal in mind vis-a-vis you.”
“And that is?”
“I want, and will have, you in my bed.” The only woman who would ever warm his bed-the one upstairs in the earl’s apartments-was his countess.
She stared at him for a long moment. “That’s sane, rational, logical and sensible?”
“It is to me.” He kept his expression mild but uninformative; they could have been discussing crop rotations.
She studied him, then drew in a huge breath; as her arms were again folded beneath her breasts, the action severely tried his resolve.
She let that breath out with an explosive, “Lord Crowhurst-”
He rolled his eyes, which made her glare.
“Oh, very well!” She flung up her arms, relieving the pressure on his control considerably. “Gervase, then! But you must see that this nonsense-your ridiculous pursuit of me-isn’t going to get anyone anywhere. All you’ll achieve is to make me lose my temper, and as my brothers will tell you, you don’t want to do that.”
He wasn’t so sure; in her Valkyrie guise she was undeniably arousing. Of course, she didn’t believe she was
