The Saint (14 page)

“We will speak with her together. She may need some persuading.”

“Can't imagine that. Everyone knows the rules.”

Yes, everyone knew the rules, but Bianca had not shown any inclination thus far to play by them.

chapter
9

F
or a warm September day, the study held quite a chill.

That probably had something to do with the icy blue eyes ostentatiously looking away while Dante knelt and proposed.

“Therefore, while I would have preferred to court you and then offer in the normal way, under the circumstances it would be best if we married immediately,” he concluded, squeezing her hand and bestowing a reassuring smile.

Vergil lounged in his chair behind his desk, turned toward the window with a distracted, bland expression. He had sat there like a silent witness while his brother performed this most intimate of rituals.

She gave her attention back to the young man balanced on one knee. “Why would it be best if we married?”

“Why?”

“Yes, why?”

“Because, Miss Kenwood, the alternative is a scandal.” Vergil's steely tone cut the air into shards. “You were seen with my brother, and as a gentleman, he will do the right thing.”

She looked at the beautiful man kneeling by her side. Poor Dante. To have successfully raked all these years, only to get ensnared the one time he had tried to act very honorably.

She patted Dante's hand. “You are very kind to offer, but I must refuse.”

“Refuse?”

“You will be relieved to learn that I do not exact such a high wage for such a small indiscretion.”
As your brother well knows.

He rose. He didn't look relieved at all. Incredulous and a bit insulted, but not relieved.

“Vergil …”

“I will manage this now, Dante.”

Bianca shifted so she faced him squarely. “You will find that I am not inclined to be managed, least of all by you. It is unforgivable for you to force your brother, your own blood, into this for such a little thing.”

“I assure you, Bianca darling, that I am not at all unhappy about it.”

“A little thing? It was no mild flirtation that the ladies witnessed. You were lying on the ground together. Only if your garments had been in
dishabille
could it have been worse. What would have happened in Baltimore if you were found thus?”

“I imagine if my father were alive he would have shot Dante.”

“Are you saying that you would prefer that I shoot my brother?”

“I am saying that I will not accept marriage under these circumstances. The punishment is far too permanent for such a small crime.”
I have explained all this before. Remember?

Vergil began to respond, but Dante cut him off with a quelling gesture. He lifted her hands in his own and gazed into her eyes. “My dear Bianca, I assure you I do not view this as a punishment. Rather, it is a dream come true. For your sake only do I wish the circumstances were different. You stole my heart immediately. I have spent these weeks praying for a sign of your affection. This only gives me my soul's desire sooner than I had dared hope.”

Her heart sank into her stomach. He meant it. Not the parts about stealing his heart, but the rest. He didn't mind this development.

Out of the corner of her eye she observed Vergil. He appeared resolute and angry, but not one bit surprised.

Her heart sank further.

This had been the plan from the start. It was why Dante was here, and why Vergil wouldn't let her leave. Dante had been chosen for her. Her whole stay at Laclere Park had been a type of trap, and her own stupidity had sprung the clamps closed.

“So, let us hear no more talk of sparing me from punishment,” Dante said, lifting her hands to his lips. “In a few days we will be wed, and I promise to make you very happy, darling. Doing so will be no punishment at all.”

His soothing tone carried a note of seduction. Vergil's jaw clenched. Her stomach heaved.

She extricated her hand. “I am honored by your affection, but still I must decline.”

A silence ensued, so tense that one expected invisible coils to snap. Bewilderment, then amazement, then annoyance flashed over Dante's face.

“Perhaps you should leave us, Dante. I would like to speak with my ward alone.”

“Certainly,” Dante said. “Bianca … Miss Kenwood.” With a little bow he was gone.

She glared at Vergil, daring him to pursue this farce. He rose and paced to the window.

“With your mother long dead and your aunt unmarried, your education has been lacking. Forgive me if I must be blunter than men should be with women. You were seen prostrate under my brother in those flowers, engaged in lovemaking. When that is discovered, the only honorable course for the man and the only redemption for the woman is that they wed. You may not extract such a wage for indiscretion, Miss Kenwood, but society does.”

“As I remember it, I was engaged in lovemaking with you and you accepted my refusal of your offer. I suppose that means you got to be honorable but I did not get to be redeemed. Fine. I will accept the same resolution with Dante.”

“Do not … This is different. You were
seen.
The consequences cannot be avoided.”

“So it is being seen that makes such behavior scandalous? How unfortunate for Dante. It is a good thing for him that I am not a slave to propriety.”

“You did not hear me. When you lost control with my brother, you also lost control over the outcome should your behavior become known.”

“What makes you think that I lost control with your brother? I don't remember it that way at all.”

He turned abruptly with an expression of … what? Shock? Relief? “Are you saying he importuned you? Forced you?”

He almost appeared hopeful and, for a moment at least, not at all stern. Her chest filled with an astonishing yearning. He looked so … vulnerable. An odd thought, but that was what she saw for an instant. It made her wish that she could somehow abort this foolhardy plan. But what good would that do, especially now that she knew why he was so adamant about her staying with his family.

“I am saying nothing of the sort. Would it make a difference to society if I did?”

“No.”

Nor would it make a difference to you. Not really, despite that look. Our passion was a blunder that almost botched things horribly. You planned for Dante to have me, after all.

She forced herself to act lighthearted despite the raw hurt ripping at her composure. “I did not think so. The thing is, you keep bringing up scandal and society, while I care about neither. You seem to forget that this is not
my
society.”

“It is the one in which you now live.”

“Only temporarily. You asked what would have occurred if we had been found thus in Baltimore. A duel or a marriage, such as families demand here, would be two possibilities. Or I might have been sent away. I suggest that we consider that last option now as well.”

His expression lightened. Definitely relief this time.

“Ah, I see. Of course. I had wondered why you did it, but it is becoming clear now. Independence was your goal from the start and you still pursue it. But you have overplayed your hand.”

And you are glad that I did. Glad that I sprang the trap so neatly. Glad that Dante will have me. Oh, Laclere …

“I assure you that I
did
it because I wanted to
do
it. Furthermore, I think that you will have to permit me to leave. I have no intention of rectifying things by marrying your brother. If the result is a scandal, so be it. I expect that it will be a very big one, but it will fall only on me if I leave soon. We will let everyone know that he tried to do the right thing, but that I refused him. Once I have left, it will all be forgotten.”

He cocked his head. “Are you so determined that you would invite such scorn to achieve your ends?”

“I would invite even more if necessary. You really should let me go. Otherwise you may find your family the center of all kinds of outrageous behavior.” She tossed her head in what she hoped was an imperious manner.

The silence crackled. She turned back to find him suddenly standing right beside her chair.

He did not look amused anymore. “You wouldn't dare.”

“I have already dared. First with you and now your brother. It should be clear by now that I am not what you expected.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Open your eyes, Laclere. What kind of a woman would hop from one man to the next like that?”

“You tell me, Miss Kenwood.” His quiet tone made her very uncomfortable.

“One too free-spirited to avoid scandal in your very proper society, I would say. Wouldn't you?”

“I haven't decided yet.”

“What is to decide? You know that my behavior has been outrageous, and I don't even feel remorse. I refuse to be redeemed. The conclusion that you must be drawing is unattractive, but I don't even mind.”

“What conclusion is that?”

The scoundrel was going to make her spell it out. She wobbled to her feet, trusting she would feel more brave if she felt less small.

“That I like men far too much for a decent woman. That I am too … experienced to remain part of English respectable society.”

He cocked an eyebrow.
“Experienced?”

“Dangerous, it is said in Baltimore.”

“
Dangerous
now.”

“Yes.
Dangerous.
In fact, there are those who say … I have even heard that some people think that I am … wicked.”

“Are you saying that there have been other men?”

It had become difficult to act casual and flippant. He was making her uncomfortable, but in a foolish, flustered way. Something of the expression at the ruins seemed to have deepened his gaze. Ridiculous, of course. He was probably just suitably appalled with her confession.

“Other men? You mean besides Dante and yourself?”

“I mean besides myself. My brother has told me how little actually occurred today.”

That detail seemed to please him far too much. A flood of irritation emboldened her. She raised her chin at him. “Of course there have been other men. You don't think that the English air has suddenly made me lose my head, do you? Of all the atmospheres in the world, the stuffy one here would be the last to cause a woman to do so. There have been lots of other men.”

He didn't like that. Good.

He hovered more, bending his face to hers.
“Lots?”

“Many. Dozens.”

“Dozens?”

“Hundreds.”

They stood there toe to toe and nose to nose, glaring at each other.

A smile twitched. “
Hundreds
? You are a superb actress and would have been magnificent on the stage, but
hundreds
?”

“Yes,
hundreds.
”

He laughed. “You should have stopped at
lots.
Or at least
dozens.
But
hundreds
…”

“You do not believe me?”

“Not at all.”

He looked so handsome with the smile softening his mouth and humor sparkling his eyes. Incredibly handsome. And reassured. Triumphant, if the truth be told. It vexed her to no end, and she suppressed the odd swell of emotion foolishly glowing in response to that smile.

She had gone to all this trouble, had risked being assaulted by a notorious rake, had created a scandal that for all her posturing would be hell to face, and he was refusing to see her disreputable character even when she threw it in his face. It infuriated her, even while her heart stupidly beamed with gratitude.

“You do not believe me because your male pride does not want to accept that you were merely one of hundreds, that is all.”

“I am confident that I was not one of hundreds, or even dozens. I strongly suspect that I was not even one of lots, and quite possibly not so much as one of two. You will drop this ridiculous act at once.”

Something dangerous burst inside her. Something rebellious and furious and even a little wicked.

She reached up with both hands and grabbed his head. She pulled him down and planted a very firm kiss on his lips.

She held him until his stunned shock began to pass, then released him and stepped away before he had completely recovered.

“Hundreds, Uncle Vergil. I am infamous for ruining saints.”

She turned to exit upstage.

A firm hand closed on her arm.

With a gasping swirl she found herself turned and pulled into arms, which encircled her waist and shoulders. The Vergil of the ruins looked down at her. Dangerously.

“You make me wish that were true,” he said, lifting her until her toes scraped the floor, lowering his head.

She should push him away, but her arms would not obey her command. Her suddenly foggy mind scrambled for words to put him in his place, but her heart beat so loudly that she couldn't hear herself think. His warm lips touched hers and she didn't have a mind at all anymore.

He ravished her mouth with demanding lips and nipping teeth and exploring tongue. Disgraceful sensations cascaded through her and, heaven help her, she reveled in them, savoring his encompassing strength, losing herself in a warmth that obscured considerations of anything else.