tigress!
Her spirited rejection of his suit had perhaps been deserved, and, of course, she was right in that to become betrothed would be madness. He had no wish for their names to be linked, and his reputation would suffer far less than hers by the gossip that would inevitably follow this escapade. Nevertheless, her refusal rankled with him. And, confusingly, some element of him felt an obscure disappointment, but he knew he could not afford to examine why. Already his emotions were becoming dangerously involved.
‘I thought that you would be glad to add a better title to your fortune,’ he said, to give vent to his feelings, and almost immediately felt ashamed that he had allowed his distaste for her past behaviour to force him into rudeness. He watched the hot colour flood her face at the insult. How amazingly good she was at playing the hurt innocent! But what was the point in pretending to him?
Not for anything would Alicia show him how much his accusations hurt her. They cut through all the protective layers she had painfully built up over the years and exposed the unhealed scars beneath. Thisman had once held her in his arms and murmured words of love in a tone so far removed from his current one that it seemed like another world, another time…That man and this…The change was too great. She rallied all her forces to defend herself.
‘You may consider me an adventuress, Lord Mullineaux,’ Alicia said, getting up to leave the room, ‘but had you thought that you might be seen as a fortune-hunter in proposing to me? After all, you would be regaining a piece of your lost patrimony. And I am so very rich, you see,’ she added sweetly, ‘that no doubt people would quickly recognise the temptation my fortune, if not my person, presents to an impoverished Marquis!’
Well, Mullineaux thought, smothering a sudden grin, he had asked for that. She was quite capable of countering his ill-bred accusations with her own. At nineteen, Alicia Broseley had had plenty of spirit, but a sweet nature to accompany it. Now she seemed both decidedly outspoken and unfashionably quick to offer an opinion.
‘Well, then, no doubt I should simply be grateful to have escaped marriage with a shrew!’ he stated unforgivably, and once more they were left glaring at each other with bitter hostility.
The sky was a pale washed blue later that morning as Alicia trudged along the road to Ottery Manor. The road was still damp underfoot, but most of the flood waters had receded beyond the ditches, and lay across the low flat fields like a silver mirror. The faint, plaintive call of the curlew floated across the drowned landscape, and a single buzzard wheeled high overhead. The fresh breeze had brought a little colour back into Alicia’s cheeks, but she was less inclined than usual to pause to enjoy the scenery.
Only the coldest words of farewell had passed between herself and the Marquis of Mullineaux. He had gone to the stables to oversee the preparation of his curricle, eager to be away, and Alicia had consulted Jack about the salvage of her carriage before setting off to the Manor. Jack had been hopeful that the repairs might be effected that day, which left Alicia with the dilemma of how to pass the time before she could resume her journey. The thought of whiling away time at Ottery Manor under the curious eyes of Mrs Henley’s guests was almost intolerable, but the prospect of spending more time at the inn was equally unacceptable.
Alicia’s thoughts turned back to Mullineaux and she felt sick at heart at what had passed between them. He was worse than a stranger, someone to whom instinct persistently drew her, whilst fate placed apparently insurmountable barriers between them. It was horrible that she still found him so undeniably attractive when he held her in the deepest contempt. For the sake of her sanity she would just have to keep out of his way in future. This melancholy reflection brought her to the stone gateway of
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