Free The Defiant One by Danelle Harmon Page B

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    " Curse it, Lucien! "
    Celsie was trembling with mortification.  "Thank you, Your Grace , for stating the matter so succinctly," she ground out.
    Blackheath merely inclined his head and lifted his glass to her as Celsie turned angry, desperate eyes on Andrew.  She saw his own gaze soften, momentarily, before he looked away, his jaw hard.  He was as much a victim of this entire debacle as she was.  He had warned her not to imbibe the solution, had even tried to talk her out of it.  But no.  She had taken his warning as a challenge, and now look at what happened.
    " Did I? " she demanded, anger and self-disgust making her voice brittle.
    He cleared his throat.  "Well, let us say that your manner was nothing short of predatory," he allowed.
    "Did you resist?"
    "Really, Celsie!" thundered Gerald.
    " Did you?"
    "Well, I did at first, but to be truthful, madam, you were rather . . . well, persuasive in your designs."
    "Oh, dear God ," she moaned, momentarily covering her face with her hands.  Then, raising her head, she looked Andrew directly in the eye.  "Well then, since it was your honor that was compromised, your body that was — was —"
    "Ravished," supplied Lucien, helpfully.
    " Ravished ," fumed Celsie, eyes flashing, "then I think that you ought to decide what should be done."
    "This is highly irregular!" stormed Gerald, his complexion mottling.  "Really, Celsie, I have never heard of anything so preposterous in my life!"
    "Be quiet, Gerald.  After all, I was the one who coerced Lord Andrew into giving me the solution, so therefore, it is up to me to deal with the consequences."
    "I thought you said you didn't remember what happened!"
    "Well, I remember that much!"
    "Regardless, he was the one who deflowered you!"
    "Maybe I deflowered him!"
    "Highly unlikely," interrupted the duke, idly studying his cognac.  "I daresay Andrew lost his virginity long ago."  He smiled and slanted a benignly innocent grin at his brother.  "Is that not right, Andrew?"
    Celsie saw Andrew turn and glare out the window once more, his eyes like flint.
    "So you see, my dear?  That settles that."
    "That settles nothing," Celsie snapped.  "Lord Andrew?  What are your wishes in this matter?"
    "I have already stated them.  With all due respect, madam, I have no need or wish for a wife.  Indeed, I would prefer to forget this matter ever happened and simply get on with my life."
    "Well then, as I also have no need or wish for a husband, I daresay we are of like mind, and I, too, would prefer to forget it ever happened.  Please take me home, Gerald.  I find that I am developing quite a headache."
    The duke sipped his cognac.  "Really, my dear, that's an excuse you should have used an hour ago."  He turned to his brother, eyes gleaming.  "I beg your pardon.  Perhaps you should have used it, Andrew."
    Celsie thought — hoped — that Andrew was going to kill the duke right then and there.  He shot to his feet, his face darkening, his fists clenching at his sides.  "The lady has stated her wishes, I have stated mine, and I am leaving."
    "So am I," snapped Celsie, also rising.
    "But what about my brother's compromised honor?" asked Lucien, raising an innocent brow.  "It would be most embarrassing if word got out that he was attacked by a woman and did not enjoy it."
    "I never said I didn't enjoy it," Andrew ground out.
    "Oh.  Well then, that changes things immensely, doesn't it?  As you are of superior strength to the lady, and did nothing to defend yourself from her — what did you say? — ah yes, persuasive designs upon you, then I daresay we can conclude, after all, that you are as much responsible for this predicament as she is.  I really think that one of you, at least, should offer marriage."
    Celsie had had enough.  She strode angrily up to the duke of Blackheath, who remained sprawled negligently in his chair, an amused little smile playing about his mouth as he looked up at her.
    "You seem to be rather