Kit tried to juggle the pieces of the jigsaw that were falling into her hands.
“The Greshams’ groom told George who the black Arab mare belonged to. George came and told me.”
Kit’s mind was racing, filling in gaps, recalling snippets here and there. One particularly disturbing fragment was rapidly growing in importance. “My memory is still a little hazy,” she began, “but I seem to recall some mention of a wedding?” She tried to make the question as innocuous as such a question could be. When Jack’s brows rose arrogantly, her heart stood still.
“Naturally, in the circumstances, we’ll be married.” Neither his tone nor the glint in his grey eyes suggested there was any alternative.
Kit blinked. “Married?” Just like that? To a man like Jack? Worse—to a lord like Jack. Merciful heavens! She’d never be able to call her soul her own. “Just a minute.” She tried to keep her voice even. “I’m not quite clear on what happened. When did we become betrothed?”
“As far as I’m concerned,” Jack growled, his eyes gleaming, “we became betrothed when you begged me to take your maidenhead.”
“Ah.” Kit’s eyes glazed. Arguing that point was impossible. She tried a different tack. “When did this idea of marriage enter your head?”
Frowning, Jack tried to gauge her direction, wary of answering in the wrong way.
“After you’d found out who I was?”
Jack scowled.
Which was answer enough for Kit. “If you’ve determined on marriage purely to save my reputation, you can forget it.” She sat up. “I’d already decided not to marry, so there’s really no need for any charade.”
The idea that she was rejecting him held Jack speechless for all of ten seconds. “Charade?” he growled. “Charade be damned! If you’ve a dislike of marriage—though what you can know of the matter defies me—you should have remembered that before you gave yourself to me.You offered—Iaccepted. It’s too late for second thoughts.” Hands on hips, he glowered at Kit. “And in case it hasn’t sunk in yet, let me tell you that women of your station can’t go about giving themselves to men like me and expect to get let off the hook!”
Kit’s eyes blazed. “Dammit! There’s no sense in marrying me if you don’t want to!”
Jack nearly choked. “What’s wanting got to do with it? Of course I want to marry you!”
The statement, uttered at half bellow, stopped them both in their tracks.
Turning it over in his mind, Jack decided there was nothing he wished to add. He had to marry. He wanted to marry Kit. In fact, as far as he was concerned, they were married already. He just had to get her to agree.
Kit watched him, a considering frown on her face. Lord Hendon was fast becoming a far greater threat to her future than Captain Jack had ever been. Jack was an arrogant rogue, who could send her senses spinning with a single caress and was quite prepared to tie her up and carry her off if she didn’t obey his orders. But she’d been in no danger of having to marry Captain Jack. Lord Hendon had all Jack’s attributes, if anything, in greater measure. While Jack might bellow to overcome any resistance, Lord Hendon, she suspected, would simply raise one of those supercilious eyebrows and people would fall over themselves to obey. Kit swallowed a snort. And he expected her to marry him?
She glanced up, into his silver-grey eyes, and saw something in their shimmering depths which made her throat contract. The implication of his watchful silence broke over her.
He wanted her to marry him. He wanted her.
Abruptly, Kit threw off the bedclothes and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She’d forgotten that curious sense of being stalked. Right now, she’d prefer to be a moving target.
“Stay in bed, Kit.”
The undisguised command flicked Kit on the raw. She threw Jack a fulminating glance, but before she could take up her verbal cudgels, he was speaking again. “Dr. Thrushborne will be here soon, as he has been every morning for the past week.”
“Week?” Kit stared. It couldn’t have been that long. “What day is it?”
Jack had to think before answering: “Tuesday.”
“God lord! I’ve lost a week!”
“You nearly lost your life.”
The deliberate tones jerked Kit back to full awareness. Jack had drawn closer. He stooped and scooped her legs in one arm and toppled her back on her pillows, tucking her legs under the covers.
“No more games, Kit. For God’s sake, stay in bed and do whatever Thrushborne says. The story we’ve put about—”
While Jack sat beside her and filled her in on their tale, Kit struggled to regain some sense of reality, some semblance of normality. But nothing seemed the same anymore.
Jack came to the end of his tale. “Elmina will be here soon, and I should return to Castle Hendon. I’ll be back this evening.” He rose, wondering what more he could say. He wasn?