Dreaming of You (The Gamblers #2)(78)

“How are you this morning?”

Setting down the carved piece, Sara turned slowly. “I-I was expecting Lily.”

Derek looked as if he hadn’t slept at all. Sara doubted he had even changed his clothes, which were rumpled and wrinkled. His black hair was completely disheveled, as if he had raked his hands through it a hundred times during the night. “As matters stand, Lily can’t do much to help you. But I can.”

Sara was perplexed. “I don’t need anyone’s help. I’m leaving this morning, and…What’s that in your hand?” She stared at the piece of paper he held, covered with his heavy black scrawl.

“A list.” Suddenly businesslike, Derek walked toward her and pushed the display of carved figures aside. He flattened the paper on the table, motioning for her to look at it. “These are the twenty most eligible bachelors in England, listed in order of preference. If none of them are to your liking, we’ll expand the list, although these are the most appropriate in age and character—”

“What?” Sara stared at him incredulously. “You’re trying to marry me off now?” A sputter of dazed laughter escaped her. “Why on earth would any of these men offer for me?”

“Pick a name. I’ll get him for you.”

“How?”

“There’s not a man in England who doesn’t owe me one favor or another.”

“Mr. Craven, there’s no need for this…this absurdity—”

“You don’t have a choice,” he said brusquely.

“Yes, I do! I can choose not to marry anyone, and return to Greenwood Corners where I belong.” Sara backed away as he tried to give her the list. “I won’t look at any names. I don’t know any of those men. I don’t want to marry some stranger just for the sake of propriety. My reputation doesn’t mean that much to me…or to anyone else, really.”

“News of this will reach the village. You know the things they’ll say about you.”

“I don’t care what they say. I’ll know the truth, and that will sustain me.”

“Even when your precious Kingswood looks down his nose at you for being a ruined woman?”

That caused Sara to flinch, the image of Perry and his mother treating her with contemptuous pity under the guise of Christian virtue…but she nodded resolutely. “I’ll bear any burden the Lord sees fit to give me. I’m stronger than you think, Mr. Craven.”

“You don’t have to be strong. Take someone’s name. Let him be your shield. Any one of the men on this list has the means to support you and your parents in luxury.”

“I don’t care about luxury. I can still afford my principles. I won’t be bartered off to some unwilling suitor merely to save my name.”

“No one can afford principles all the time.”

She became even calmer in the face of his growing impatience. “I can. And I could never marry someone I didn’t love.”

Derek ground his teeth together. “Everyone else does!”

“I’m not like everyone else.”

Biting back an unflattering reply, Derek struggled for self-control. “Would you at least look at this?” he asked through his teeth.

She went to him and glanced at the neatly written list, discovering that Lord Tavisham’s name was at the top. “ ‘Viscount’ is spelled with an ‘s,’ ” she murmured.

An impatient scowl crossed his face. “What do you think of him? You danced together last night.”

“I rather liked him, but…are you certain he’s the most eligible bachelor in England? I find that hard to believe.”

“Tavisham’s young, titled, intelligent, kindhearted—and he has a yearly income that makes even my fingers itch. He’s the best catch I’ve ever seen.” Derek pasted a fake, unnatural smile on his face. “I think he likes books too. I heard him talking about Shakespeare once. You’d like to marry someone who reads, wouldn’t you? And he’s handsome. Tall…blue eyes…no pockmarks…”

“His hair is thin.”

Derek looked offended, his coaxing panther-grin disappearing. “He has a high forehead. It’s a sign of nobility.”

“If you’re so enthralled with him, you marry him.” Sara walked away to the window, turning her back to him.

Abandoning all attempts at diplomacy, Derek followed her with the paper clutched in his hand. “Pick one or I’ll cram this down your throat!”

She was unfazed by his fury. “Mr. Craven,” she said with great care, “you’re very kind to take such an interest in my welfare. But it’s better that I remain a spinster. I will never find a husband who wouldn’t resent my writing. No matter how well-intentioned he was in the beginning, he would be frustrated by my habit of abandoning my wifely duties in order to work on my novels—”

“He’ll learn to live with it.”

“What if he doesn’t? What if he forbids me to write ever again? Unfortunately, Mr. Craven, a wife is at the mercy of her husband’s whims in such matters. How can you suggest I should entrust my life and my happiness to a stranger who may not treat me with respect?”

“He’ll treat you like a queen,” Derek said grimly. “Or he’ll answer to me.”