When Strangers Marry (Vallerands #1)(28)

“You’re going to marry me.”

Although Lysette had half expected it, the primitive proposal— or, more accurately, the announcement— caused her heart to stop. In the midst of her alarm, a part of her was able to step back and point out that if she was clever enough, she might be able to get something she had only now realized that she wanted.

“Indeed? How did you come up with such an absurd idea?”

“I have need of a wife.”

“Only because of what you did to the first one,” she retorted, and turned on her heel.

By the time Max was able to form a reply, she was halfway up the stairs, her legs propelling her to the safety of her room.

Max glanced at his mother with a sardonic smile. Irénée shrugged apologetically. “I do not think she is receptive to the idea,” Irénée commented.

Max laughed at the understatement, his fury seeming to abate. He walked over to her and pressed a kiss to her furrowed forehead. “Maman, you must not go around telling my prospective brides that I murdered my first wife. It does little to enhance my appeal.”

“Do you think you will be able to persuade her to marry you, Max?”

“Begin making plans for a wedding a week from now.”

“Only a week? But how could I possibly prepare… No, no, it cannot be done.”

“A small wedding. I know you, Maman. You could arrange it in a quarter hour if you wished.”

“But this haste—”

“Is entirely necessary. I’m afraid my fiancée’s reputation could not withstand a lengthier engagement.”

“If we could wait just a bit longer, Alexandre and Bernard will be here. Your brothers would want to attend your wedding, Max!”

“I assure you,” he said sardonically, “my wedding will lose none of its poignancy for their absence. Now, if you will excuse me, I’ll go upstairs to have a private talk with Lysette.” He paused meaningfully. “Make certain that we are not disturbed.”

The impropriety of his intent was not lost on Irénée. “Max, you will not spend too long with her alone, will you?”

“I might have to. After the confidences you shared with Lysette, it might take strong measures to convince her to marry me.”

“What kind of measures?”

A devilish smile crossed his lips. “Don’t ask questions, Maman, when you know you don’t want to hear the answers.”

———

Lysette leaned against the bed and watched the door intently. The handle was tried, and the lock prevented it from turning.

“Lysette, open the damned door.”

“I have not given you permission to use my first name,” she said. “And foul language hardly makes your marriage proposal more inviting.”

The door rattled more vigorously, the hinges creaking in protest. “Mademoiselle Kersaint, I have no desire to break down the door, since in all likelihood I will have to be the one to repair it. Open it, or—”

Turning the key in the lock, Lysette sent the door swinging open. “Come in.” She returned to her position against the bed and folded her arms before her. “I can hardly wait to hear why I should accept your proposal.”

Vallerand entered the room and closed the door, his hooded gaze flickering to the bed behind her. Lysette could almost feel the force of his desire. She was actually enjoying this confrontation with the huge, aroused male before her, knowing how badly he wanted her. So he thought he would simply inform her that they would be married, and she would fall gratefully into his arms? Oh, no. If she were to accept him… and that was still very much an if… Max would have to convince her that he was worth the risk she would have to take.

“Mademoiselle—”

“You may use my first name now.”

“Lysette.” He let out a taut sigh. “I didn’t kill my wife,” he said baldly. There was no trace of humility in his tone, no sign of vulnerability on his face… but the mist of sweat on his forehead betrayed his agitation, and Lysette’s heart softened ever so slightly.

“Corinne was dead when I found her. I don’t know who did it. I thought Sagesse was guilty at first, but he has many witnesses to confirm that he wasn’t with her that night. All the evidence points to me. No one believes that I’m innocent. Not even my own mother. I can’t expect you to believe it, either, but I swear—”

“Of course I believe you,” Lysette said calmly.

Max looked away swiftly, but not before she saw the astonishment on his face. Although his body was rigid, she detected the faint tremor that shook him.

Suddenly understanding the burden he had carried for so long, and the toll it had taken on him, Lysette thought compassionately of how alone he hadbeen for so many years.

“It is obvious that you’re no murderer,” she continued, giving him time to recover himself. “This morning you couldn’t even make yourself kill Etienne Sagesse in a justifiable duel. For all your posturing and snarling, I believe that you are basically harmless. But that is hardly enough to recommend you as a husband.”

“Harmless?“ he repeated, his head jerking up. His face turned dark with a scowl.

“And untrustworthy,” she added. “Since the day we met, you have betrayed, manipulated, and lied to me.”