Free Pirate Hunter's Mistress (The Virginia Brides) by Lynette Vinet Page B

I’ll escort you upstairs, my lady.”
    As he started to lead her into the house, she turned to him with bafflement and pain etched upon her face. “What have I done, Richard? Tell me what I’ve done wrong.”
    “Nothing, my lady.”
    How formal he sounded, how frozen he looked. A cold fear swept into Marlee’s heart. Somehow she’d lost him, but how could she lose someone who’d never really belonged to her in the first place? She was confused and hurt and so angered by his sudden withdrawal from her that she wanted to scream. In desperation she swung about when they reached the upstairs hallway and pulled off his jacket to throw it at him. “If I’ve done nothing wrong, my lord, then you have! I don’t understand you, I don’t. Did you trifle with me to gain my fortune? Is that what this is about?” Tears clouded her eyes and blurred her vision. “I should have known you didn’t want me—but my—money. She took a deep sustaining breath. “Don’t worry, my lord, I shall sign the paper in the morning. I do it not for you but for Arden Manor. At least I live up to the bargain I made.”
    He started to touch her, but she backed away. “Sometimes I think I hate you.”
    “Hate me then!” he thundered and grabbed her wrist. “I’d rather suffer your hatred than your love.”
    She struggled to free herself but he was stronger. In an instant he’d swept her into his arms and pinned her against the wall until all the breath and fight left her body. Then his lips found hers and branded her mouth with a kiss that left her clutching at his shoulders.
    “Forgive me,” he said softly against her cheek. “But know that I could never hate you. No matter what happens in the future, believe I never wished you ill.”
    Before she could reply, he let her go and bounded down the stairs to disappear into the night.

CHAPTER
SIX

    “The color for the draperies is most becoming, Marlee. I think your taste is excellent. I’m certain Lord Arden is very pleased with your choices.” Barbara held up a swatch of velvet, a deep rose color, that was to be used on the windows in the dining room. Bolts of multicolored silks and satins were strewn upon the garden room floor, clear reminders of the recent renovation which had been undertaken.
    With a disinterested air, Marlee fingered the materials. “I suppose the restoration will be finished sooner than I wish, and then what shall I do with my time?”
    Marlee sounded so forlorn that Barbara turned her attention to her cousin. She gave her a quick hug about the shoulders. “You can devote yourself to your husband.”
    “Hah! Stop humoring me, Barbara. You know very well that the man hasn’t spoken to me in over a week—and I don’t care if I ever speak to him again. The notorious rake! He lulled me, positively lulled me into believing he might come to care for me, and what do I do but fall into his trap and tell him I’ll sign away my fortune. I believe I’m the biggest fool alive!”
    Barbara sighed. “You always intended to turn your money over to him, Marlee.”
    “Yes, but I —never intended to care for him.” Tears choked her and she turned her face away, grateful she had an unencumbered view of the beach and sea from the garden room window. Sunlight drenched the coast in warm, golden splotches, even touching her face with a tentative yellow finger through the wavy glass.
    She’d signed the document exactly seven days before, in the presence of Mr. Carpenter, Simon—and the baron. Somehow she couldn’t think of him as her husband any longer. Now he was simply “the baron,” a man who had married her to claim her fortune and a man who’d never love her. One would think, since she’d turned everything to his control, that he’d express some gratitude to her. Except for the formal pleasantries one would bestow upon a guest, he’d said nothing to her after the kiss in the hall. And that’s what she was, she reasoned; she was a paying guest in his