Page 28 of Marriage Most Scandalous
“My visits to Germany and Italy were about equal in length.”
“I spend a good deal of time in Italy, so that will do. We were staying at the same hotel. You recognized me and refreshed my memory of who you are. I was immediately charmed and began a whirlwind courtship that swept you off your feet, and we were married two weeks later.”
“Oh, my, that soon?”
“My plan was to not give you enough time to recall all the reasons why you probably shouldn’t marry me.”
“Smart man,” she rejoined with a nod. “But I prefer the simplicity of love conquers all obstacles, so that wouldn’t have been an issue. At least, that’s what I will tell your father.”
“It may not be necessary to say anything to him a’tall.”
“Why not?”
“Because he probably won’t stay in a room with me longer than it takes him to see me.”
“You really think he’ll walk away without saying a single word to you?”
“You think he won’t, after what he said to Timothy?” he rejoined.
Her expression changed. Good God, was that sympathy for him that she was exhibiting? When she despised him? No, that would be too much of a contradiction. Of course, his situation was pathetic. Anyone with a soft heart might pity him.
“Careful, Maggie,” he warned. “You don’t want to start liking me.”
She scowled at him and pointed a finger toward the door. “You’ve apprised me of the course you have set in motion, now you can leave. I won’t tolerate any more of your insults.”
He didn’t move. “How the deuce do you perceive an insult in what I just said?”
“To imply that I could like you after everything you have done is an insult to me.”
“All that rubbish you’ve laid at my door, eh?” he replied sardonically. “Half of which I decline responsibility for. But that reminds me, do you still have those two letters from your sister?”
She blinked at the change in subject. “Why?”
“I’d like to look them over,” he said. “Do you still have them?”
“Yes, actually.” She moved to the writing desk set up in a corner of the room, opened a drawer, and retrieved the letters. “I’m not sure why I kept the first one,” she remarked as she returned and handed the letters to him. “It really isn’t legible it’s so tearstained. Why do you want to see these?”
“I find it odd, the manner in which she left. Three years after Giles’s death. Three years was ample time to recover from her grief. To up and leave without telling anyone implies a new reason for doing so, not the one you assumed.”
“The second letter doesn’t suggest that.”
“No, but the first might.”
She shook her head at him. “Look at it. There’s nothing to see.”
He did. Practically every word on the page had been smudged or washed away, as if Eleanor had cried buckets while writing it. But as he’d hoped, there were a few letters intact, not many, but he might be able to decipher a word or two if he tried.
“I’ll keep these for a bit if you don’t mind, to study them.”
“If you must. Just remember to return them. Now if you don’t mind, the hour is late.”
“You know, Maggie,” he said, brushing a lock of hair back from her cheek, “you’re going to have to pretend to adore me when others are around. You did marry me, after all. Do you need me to help you practice?”
She sputtered, jumping back out of his reach and pointing a finger toward her door again. “I’ll manage—somehow. Now get out!”
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Suit yourself. But if you change your mind—”
“Out!”
