curved. âThat is comforting to know.â
âYou should not be comforted,â Marcus remarked. âI still have a great deal of leeway within the bounds of the code.â He laughed softly at her worried expression. âNever fear, sweeting. I wonât do anything to you unless you are completely willing.â
Arabella swallowed. âYou wonât find me willing.â
âWe shall see. As for rules, I mean to hold you to your pledge to give me a fighting chance to win our wager.â
âYes, but simply because I agreed to let you court me, it does not follow that I must make it easy for you.â
âTrue.â
âI intend to do everything in my power to foil you.â
His roguish grin made her breathless as he raised his glass of Madeira. âSo let the games begin.â
As he gazed at her over the rim of his glass, Arabellaâs heart accelerated in an erratic rhythm. Thankfully, the intimate moment was broken when Marcus took a swallow of wine.
Wincing at the taste, he set his glass aside on a table. âI would never have expected your step-uncle to suffer such inferior quality wine. I will have to rectify that, since I intend to stay here for at least a fortnight. Tomorrow Iâll have some casks delivered from my cellars in London.â
Arabellaâs heart sank at the reminder. A fortnight was beginning to seem an interminable length of time. But perhaps she was going about trying to win in all the wrong ways. What if she could simply persuade the earl that he didnât want to marry her? âYou know, my lordââ
âMarcus.â
âVery well, Marcus. I donât believe you have fully considered what a marriage between us would be like. If you had, you would realize that we wouldnât suit in the least.â
âWhy not?â
âFor one thing, I wouldnât make you a comfortable wife.â
His mouth quirked. âWhat makes you think I want a comfortable wife?â
âMost noblemen do. You want a lady to bear your heirs and manage your household, and to look the other way when you flaunt your mistresses or engage in various dalliances and indiscretions. I could never be so agreeable, my lord.â
When Marcus remained silently studying her, Arabella went on. âLady Freemantle told me a great deal about you and your friends. You are all notorious bachelors.â She refrained from adding that her ladyship had a great deal of admiration for the new Earl of Danvers.
âMy friends?â
âYour fencing partners last week. Those are your close friends, the Duke of Arden and the Marquess of Claybourne?â
âYes.â
âWell, the stories of your conquests and sporting exploits are repeated in drawing rooms even this far from London. Based on all the tales about you, I can say with utmost confidence that you would not make me a comfortable husband.â
He cocked his head at her. âI doubt you want a comfortable husband, any more than I want a comfortable wife. Somehow I canât picture a woman of your spirit settling for a milquetoast.â
Arabella gave a soft laugh of exasperation. âThat is precisely what I have been trying in vain to make you see. I donât want any sort of husband!â
âYouâve made that abundantly clear.â Marcus relaxed back against the settee. âBut allow me to point out that your appraisal of my character is based on gossip and innuendo.â
âPerhaps. But I have little doubt you are the same ilk as my father.â
âAh, we begin to get to the crux of the matter.â Stretching out his long legs, Marcus laced his fingers over his stomach. âYou take a dim view of rakes.â
Arabella smiled a little bitterly. âCan you blame me? My father was a philanderer of the first order, and I have no intention of subjecting myself to any husband like him.â
âSo you condemn me out of hand.â
âIs it
James Patterson, Howard Roughan