He was handsome and dashing, and he simply enticed her as no other man had ever been able to manage. Very much against her will, she could feel herself leaning toward him, anxious to fall into his arms and return to that fantastic period when any conclusion had seemed possible between them.
What was wrong with her? Yes, she was desperately attracted to him, but he couldn’t give her what she truly desired, that being a devoted husband, so any continuation of their affair was pointless.
Lucas Watson was a walking, talking scoundrel who’d lured her to misbehave, and she had to buck up, grow a spine, and move on.
“Fish stopped by Barrett the other day,” he said.
“She can’t stand you anymore than I can. Why would she have?”
“First, she was eager to brag about traipsing off to Roland to disgrace herself with Charles.”
“If you’re about to scold me over it, please don’t. I tried to dissuade her, but no one listens to me on any topic.”
“I wasn’t planning to lecture you,” he said. “I just mention it because she’s an intriguing female. It’s rare to stumble on a woman who is so blunt about her immoral choices. Men can sin with relish, but women aren’t allowed such liberty.”
“She’s always lived however she liked. She’s been lucky.”
“I suppose some people might believe that.”
“I take it you’re not one of them.”
“No. You see, I’m quite set in my ways. I think a woman’s place is in the home, and she should be meek, modest, and deferential to men in all matters.”
She snorted with disgust. “Then I’m certain you’ll be very delighted with whatever silly debutante you ultimately wed.”
She was being an incredible shrew, but polite conversation was beyond her. He overwhelmed her, and she’d erected plenty of mental barriers to keep him at bay. If she let down her guard for a single second, she’d stagger right back into his life. She couldn’t and wouldn’t do it!
He scrutinized her as if she were a strange insect he’d never encountered before.
“I need to marry, don’t I?” he said. “With my being thirty and having inherited my title, I can’t delay a decision.”
“Yes, the nursery at Barrett Manor must be calling out for you to get busy and pick a bride so you can begin packing it with little Watsons.”
“Have you heard about Penny and Simon?”
“Yes, and don’t scold me about them either. I warned Simon to leave her alone, but I’ve never had the power to make him heed me.”
“Penny has been very sheltered, and he seems sophisticated and jaded to me. In my view, they don’t have much in common. Do you imagine they’ll be happy?”
“Happy enough,” she churlishly muttered.
She couldn’t predict how it would unfold. Simon was charming and charismatic, but he could also be devious and dishonest. Girls threw themselves at him, and he wasn’t in the habit of declining their amorous overtures. The word monogamy had never entered his vocabulary.
Would he be faithful? Libby couldn’t picture it.
Then again, most of his schemes were implemented because he was broke and trying to quickly fill his purse, and Penny was very rich. Maybe that money would calm him down and he wouldn’t be such a charlatan.
She wouldn’t talk about any of it with Lord Barrett though. Her relationship with Simon wasn’t any of his business.
“After Fish finished crowing about her fling with Charles,” he said, “she pointed out an interesting detail with regard to Penny.”
“Penny is my new sister, so don’t you dare denigrate her.”
“I wasn’t about to. I like Penny. She’s very nice. Not a good choice to have been my wife probably, but nice all the same.”
“You just noticed she wasn’t a good choice?”
“She was too young and inexperienced for me.”
It was Libby’s opinion too, but she swallowed down her agreement. “It sounds as if Simon—by running off with her—ensured you dodged a bullet.”
“It appears I have.” He studied her carefully, an odd gleam in his eye. “I can’t have Penny. She’ll always be the one who got away, so I have to start searching for someone else.”
“Poor, poor you,” she murmured.
She couldn’t bear to have him expound on the next debutante he’d woo. Was that why he was really in town? Was it because Penny had spurned him, so he had to find an heiress just like her?
The whole notion left her extremely bereft. She nearly slid to the floor, curled into a ball, and wept like a baby.
Why couldn’t she be the woman he needed? Why wasn’t she—beautiful, talented, amazing Libby Carstairs—enough for him? Why had she never been enough for anyone?
Her temper sparked. “You’re determined to wax on about the situation, but I can’t believe you’d have the gall to presume I’d commiserate. And you’ve overstayed your welcome in this dressing room.”
She shifted away from him, marched to the door, and yanked it open. She gestured into the hall, indicating he should depart, but he was a vain oaf, and he didn’t move. He grinned as if he were a wolf stalking its prey. There was no doubt about it. She was the prey.
“Shut the door, Libby,” he said.
“If the show wasn’t still in progress at the front of the theater, I’d shout for help and have the stage hands toss you out.”
“I’d like to see them try,” he boasted. “Where were we? Oh, yes, we were discussing how I have to select another betrothed.”
“I won’t listen to you blathering on about it!”
The fight went out of her, and she was on the verge of bursting into tears, but she never cried. Harry had drummed out that sort of emotion, so she never displayed much passionate sentiment.
She was simply sad and hurt, and she wished he’d go away so she could head home to her quiet, empty house and her quiet, empty life with no Simon or Fish for company.
He stood and came over, and he shut the door for her. Then he leaned in and trapped
