Always a Maiden (The Belles of Beak Street #5)(21)

“Susanah,” he said sharply.

She cringed, half expecting a slap, a punch or worse just a flat statement that he didn’t desire her. That she was undesirable.

His voice gentled. “Look at me.”

She shook her head. Then it was if she couldn’t bear the idea of stifling her thoughts, stifling her words, stifling herself. Something hot and wretched refused to be contained. “I watched those courtesans, and I’ve spent the last week watching how the belles touch their husbands.” When she was allowed out of her cage. “You wanted me to see that. The little touches and looks that happen when they don’t think anyone is watching. The constant seduction. I’m trying. But I’m doing it wrong.”

“Susanah.”

“Don’t. Don’t treat me like a child.” Her voice had risen. She tried to bring it down, but she’d lost control, the last thread of her composure had unraveled. Even as she knew she was exposing the horridness she hid from the world, she couldn’t stop herself. “I thought you would help me. Just, just, take me…”

She didn’t want to say the last word, but she had nowhere else to go to get away but to return to her prison. The last word she whispered, “…home.”

He laughed.

The bastard laughed.

“You’re horrid and cruel,” she hurtled at him. The words startled her and shamed her even more. She wanted to die. She wanted to disappear. Mostly she wanted him to kiss her or at least pretend he wanted to. But he didn’t. He was a rake. The list of women reported to be his lovers was long. He wasn’t that particular in his tastes. Only he didn’t want her.

The next thing she knew he was pulling at her hand, trying to make her look at him. She squeezed her eyes closed and slapped at his arm, trying to get away in the tight confines of a carriage. As much as she wanted away from his cruelty, she wanted away from herself, from her loss of dignity, from her core of ugliness. Her mother was right, no man wanted her—not even a man who should covet her for her inheritance.

If he wanted that—she’d given him every opportunity to cart her off to Gretna Green or ruin her, so she’d have no choice except to marry him. To think this afternoon she’d harbored silly hopes that he might do that. But no, not even her ten thousand pound dowry and the massive estate that would eventually be hers could tempt him. He didn’t want her. She was repulsive, and she was no closer to understanding why.

She didn’t want him to carry her off and marry her. Not really, she told herself. And she was quite lucky he didn’t want to, she tried to convince herself. It was just that she would have wished for any escape after the last few days. Even a heartless rake that didn’t want her seemed a safer haven than her home of late.

He tugged her away from where she’d curled into a ball—a serious lapse in comportment. Turning her face into the corner of the carriage she tried to get as far away from him as she could. She fought, but he pinned her arms against her sides, clamping his arms around her and lifting her from the corner.

His thighs were hard under hers as he settled her onto his lap. He forced her head against his shoulder with his chin. His chin of all things.

“Susanah, sweetheart, don’t fight me.”

The options she had for dealing with an untenable situation raced through her mind. Faint. Although she’d perfected her faint in finishing school, the one time she’d tried it she’d dropped to the floor like a stone. Neither of the men in the room attempted to catch her. Scream. But even if she wanted away from Evan, screaming would only bring attention to them and possibly make everything far worse. Run. But it was the middle of the night and she had no idea where they were or if she’d have to flee past unsavory neighborhoods or characters. It seemed as though they had been driving quite a while. She didn’t have a cloak. Then again curling into him and absorbing his warmth seemed like another option.

How pathetic was it that he didn’t want her, but she wanted nothing more than to stay on his lap?

“What happened to ‘darling’?” she asked. More because she had to say something now that her fit was spent.

He tilted away and looked at her.

She couldn’t bear it, so she pressed her nose into his neck. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted so. It was unfair. I know you have gone out of your way to help me when you had no reason to. I understand you don’t want me in that way.”

She didn’t, but it wouldn’t help to point that out. She should tuck the tattered remnants of her dignity around her and move to the opposite seat. Of course, his arms were still firmly around her. The only excuse she could come up with for her behavior was that she’d had a horrid week and she was hungry, which was never a good thing for her temperament.

“If you prefer darling to sweetheart, I will oblige, my darling.” He loosened his hold and stroked her back.

He was probably worried she’d bite him like a rabid animal. “It doesn’t matter when you don’t mean it.”

His mouth very near her ear, he whispered, “I do mean it. I do want you in that way.”

“No one could want me after that unseemly display,” she whispered. “You needn’t pretend.”

“I have been trying to bring out your passion. Why would I be repelled by seeing the very thing I sought?”

That was too much. She slid from his lap and moved to the opposite seat. “You wanted me to have a tantrum?”