“Yes, he does, but he loves having his way more.” She stopped, appalled at what she’d said, however true. “Blast you, Elias. You lure me into indiscretion.”
This time he smiled properly and her poor heart lurched into a drunken canter. She could spend the rest of her life basking in that smile. If only he wasn’t a fortune hunter.
“I’d certainly like to.” He regarded her thoughtfully. “And at last you’ve called me Elias.”
She plastered on what she hoped was an indomitable expression. “That’s another indiscretion. We’re not intimates.”
“Yes, we are.” He raised a hand to cut off the argument even she admitted that she made for propriety’s sake. “Don’t try to say anything else.”
She stared at him in helpless despair. “Stop this.”
“I’ve known you’re the woman for me since we met. Last Christmas, I hoped…I believed you felt the same.” He looked more serious than she’d ever seen him. The determination in his features was more frightening than his barely leashed passion in London. She regarded his hard jaw and steady eyes and questioned her ability to withstand him.
“Don’t.” She faltered back. Her hand clenched on the ivory umbrella handle to the point of pain. If he told her again that he loved her, she’d strike him.
He ran his hand through his hair. “Do you remember that afternoon we spent walking through the snow? I felt like I’d met the other half of my soul. Tell me you didn’t feel like that, too.”
How this hurt. How she cursed Sidonie for bringing Elias here to persecute her. “I might have been carried away for a few hours in the pleasure of finding a kindred spirit.”
His mouth flatt
ened with impatience. “More than that, surely.”
“Less than that if you intend to badger me.”
To her surprise, he didn’t react with rage. Instead, compassion softened his black Thorne eyes and he stepped toward her. “Oh, hell, I should have realized.”
She regarded him warily and backed off to maintain her distance. “Realized what exactly?”
“How much Cam hurt you, devil take him.”
She frowned at Elias and raised the umbrella like a lance. “Of course I loathed all the gossip.”
“I thought that was all it was.”
“All?” she asked on a rising note.
“I know your pride revolted at what happened. Now I see you fancied yourself in love with him.”
Shock held her silent for a beat. “Are you mad?”
He knocked aside the umbrella’s frail protection and took her arm. “I’m so sorry. No wonder you find it hard to trust me.”
She shook free and regarded him with dislike. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
“No, you don’t.” He didn’t touch her again, thank goodness, but he was far too close. “If you’re marrying Desborough because the man you want is out of reach, think again.”
The man she wanted was out of reach, for all that he currently stood mere inches away. “You don’t truly think I’m wearing the willow for Camden Rothermere, do you? He and Pen are perfect together. I knew it the first time I saw them.”
She couldn’t mistake his vast relief at her uncompromising response. “I’m glad. I hate to think of you being unhappy, Marianne.”
The irony of that statement left her gasping. “Then why chase me down here? That’s hardly likely to put a smile on my face.”
“Neither is marrying Desborough.”
She stiffened and sent him a dismissive look. “Good afternoon, my lord. I hope your journey back to London is dry.”
A fine misty rain had started to fall, turning his black hair to slick curls. The only really dry thing in the whole dripping gray world was his tone. “You won’t get rid of me merely for the asking, my lady. I’m not giving up the contest.”