Lady Arabella's Scandalous Marriage. Кэрол Мортимер

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СКАЧАТЬ positive she would never find herself bored in the company of Darius Wynter …

      ‘You are taking a deuced long time to refuse me!’ he eventually growled in his impatience with her silence.

      Arabella couldn’t help giving a taunting, confident smile. ‘I am still considering your offer, sir.’

      He scowled darkly. ‘What is there to consider?’

      Arabella could no longer stand looking at the desk which had been the scene of her disgrace, instead strolling over to stand in front of the window to look out across the moonlit garden. ‘Well, for one thing, by accepting your offer I would become a duchess.’

      ‘The despised Darius Wynter’s duchess, do not forget,’ he reminded her harshly.

      She gave a haughty inclination of her head as she turned to face him. ‘There is that to consider, of course.’

      His mouth twisted. ‘And have you also forgotten that I was so “conveniently” rid of one wife but one short year ago?’

      Arabella had forgotten!

      ‘You must also be aware that none of the ton has a good word to say about me,’ Darius said, pressing his advantage.

      Arabella frowned slightly. ‘My brother Lucian speaks very highly of you.. ‘

      Darius’s mouth tightened. ‘We are friends. Of a sort.’

      She nodded. ‘And I know that his wife, Grace, has taken several people to task for daring to criticise you within her hearing.’

      His mouth quirked. ‘We are related, after all.’

      ‘Only tenuously.’ Arabella dismissed the connection of him being Grace’s half-uncle by marriage, or some such nonsense. ‘My new sister-in-law, Juliet, was also most insistent that you be a guest at her wedding today.’

      Darius’s expression softened slightly as he thought of the gracious and beautiful Juliet Boyd, now Lady Juliet St Claire. ‘Only because it was jealousy of my own friendship with the lady that was instrumental in bringing your brother up to scratch.’

      Arabella’s eyes widened. ‘You had a—a romantic interest in Juliet?’ ‘Not in the least.’ Darius gave a firm shake of his head. ‘Sebastian thought I had a romantic interest in her,’ he corrected. ‘She and I were both aware at all times that that was not at all the case.’

      ‘Why not?’

      He raised surprised blond brows. ‘I beg your pardon?’

      ‘Why were you not attracted to Juliet?’

      ‘I simply was not.’ He snapped his impatience with the subject. ‘Contrary to popular belief, I do not set out to seduce every beautiful woman I meet.’

      Arabella frowned once more. ‘I had not realised you were present at the Bancrofts’ house party when Sebastian and Juliet met this past summer.’

      Darius gave her an irritated glare. ‘I see no reason why you should have been informed.’

      Arabella’s cheeks burned at the obvious derision in his tone. ‘Were you there when the French spy was apprehended?’

      It took great effort on Darius’s part to keep his outward appearance coolly neutral. ‘What French spy? ‘

      Arabella shook her head. ‘I have no idea. Sebastian and Juliet deny any knowledge of it. But rumour has it that the man was masquerading as someone’s servant before the arrest?’

      Rumour, as usual, was wrong. Darius knew with certainty that the French spy in question had been a woman.

      ‘The incident must have happened after I had left,’ he said. ‘Now, could we get back to our own conversation? Our allotted five minutes was over long ago, and at any moment Hawk is likely to join us and demand to know our decision.’ Darius would use any means at his disposal—even reminding her of his marriage offer—to deter Arabella from showing any further interest in that French spy!

      ‘My decision,’ Arabella corrected haughtily. ‘After all, I am the one who will decide whether or not we are to be betrothed,’ she explained at Darius’s questioning glance.

      Darius studied her through narrowed lids, easily noting the glitter of challenge in those deep brown eyes, the high colour in her cheeks, the determined set of her mouth and that stubbornly angled chin.

      All things that told him Arabella was seriously considering accepting his offer….

      An offer she had felt no compunction in refusing the previous year. Before he became a rich widower. Before he inherited the title of Duke of Carlyne.

      Darius’s expression hardened. ‘And have you now decided?’

      She drew in a ragged breath. ‘I … I believe I need more time in which to consider the matter.’

      ‘How much more time?’ Darius rasped harshly.

      Arabella shrugged slender shoulders. ‘These things cannot be rushed, Your Grace. After all, we are talking of the rest of my life, are we not?’

      ‘And mine,’ he grated between clenched teeth.

      She eyed him knowingly. ‘Perhaps you should have considered that before making love to me earlier?’

      ‘Perhaps I should,’ Darius said tersely. He had never met a young lady more deserving of having her backside paddled than Lady Arabella St Claire did at this moment. In hindsight, that was probably what Darius should have administered earlier this evening in response to her challenge, rather than making love to her!

      She looked down her tiny nose at him. ‘I suggest, Your Grace, that in view of the lateness of the hour I consider your offer overnight and you call on me again tomorrow morning so that I might give you my answer.’

      His mouth thinned. ‘Whilst you are … considering my offer, might I also suggest you consider that any marriage between us would necessarily be of the fullest kind.’

      Arabella gave him a frowning glance, colour warming her cheeks as the mockery in his eyes and the twist to his hard mouth told her exactly what he meant by that comment.

      Was she seriously considering Darius’s marriage proposal? Or was she merely toying with him?

      Just as he had toyed with her earlier when he’d made love to her with such deliberation?

      For that alone Darius Wynter deserved to suffer at least the overnight torment of uncertainty as to whether or not Arabella would accept him.

      She could not deny that becoming a duchess—even the Duchess of the infamous Duke of Carlyne—would be a wonderful matrimonial feather in her bonnet. She was also sure that Darius Wynter was too complex a man ever to bore her. In their marriage bed or out of it.

      She gave a gracious inclination of her head. ‘That sounds perfectly reasonable in the circumstances.’

      His eyes narrowed СКАЧАТЬ