"Don't patronize me," she spat out, trying to yank her arm free of his grip. "Don't ever even speak to me again."

"I will not let you run off without hearing me out."

"And I let you touch me," she whispered, her horror showing clearly on her face. "I let you touch me and it was all a lie."

He caught hold of her other arm and pulled her up against him until her breasts were flattened against his ribs. "Don't you ever," he hissed, "call that a lie."

"Then what was it? You don't love me. You don't even respect me enough to tell me who you are."

"You know that's not true." He looked up and saw that a small crowd had begun to form near Caroline, who was still standing openmouthed about ten yards away. "Come with me," he ordered, pulling her around the corner of Danbury House. "We'll discuss this in private."

"I'm not going anywhere with you." She dug her heels in, but she was no match for his greater strength. "I'm going home, and if you ever attempt to speak with me again, I shall not answer to the consequences."

"Elizabeth, you are being irrational."

She snapped. Whether it was his voice or his words, she never knew, but she just snapped. "Don't you tell me what I am!" she yelled, pounding her fists against his chest. "Don't you tell me anything!"

James just stood there, letting her hit him. He stood so still that eventually her arms, sensing no resistance, had to stop.

She pulled away, her body wracked by deep and violent breaths as she stared up at his face. "I hate you," she said in a low voice.

He said nothing.

"You have no idea what you've done," she whispered, shaking her head in disbelief. "You don't even think you've done anything wrong."

"Elizabeth." He'd never dreamed it could take such strength just to call forward one simple word.

Her eyes grew faintly pitying, as if she'd suddenly realized that he must be beneath her, that he would never be worthy of her love and respect. "I'm going home. You may inform Lady Danbury that I have resigned."

"You can't resign."

"And why not?"

"She needs you. And you need the-"

"The money?" she spat out. "Is that what you were going to say?"

He felt his cheeks grow warm, and he knew she could see his answer in his eyes.

"There are some things I won't do for money," she told him, "and if you think I'm going to come back here and work for your aunt- Oh, my God!" she gasped, as if just realizing what she'd said. "She's your aunt. She must have known. How could she do this to me?''

"Agatha had no knowledge of what was happening between us. Whatever blame you choose to assign, none can be heaped upon her shoulders."

"I trusted her," she whispered. "She was like a mother to me. Why would she let this happen?"

"James? Elizabeth?"

They both turned to see a very tentative pumpkin poking her head around the corner, followed by a somewhat irritable black-haired pirate, who was waving his arms in the opposite direction, yelling, "Go away! All of you! There is nothing to see."

"This is not a good time, Caroline," James said, his words clipped.

"Actually," Caroline said softly, "I fear it might be just the right time. Perhaps we could all adjourn inside? Somewhere private?"

Blake Ravenscroft, Caroline's husband and James's best friend, stepped forward. "She's right, James. Gossip is already flying. Half the party is going to be creeping around this corner within minutes."

Caroline nodded. "I'm afraid there is going to be a terrible scandal."

"I'm sure there already is one," Elizabeth retorted.

"Not that I care. I'm sure I will never see any of these people again."

James felt his fingernails bite into his palms. He was getting heartily sick of Elizabeth's stubbornness. Not once had she given him the opportunity to state his case. What was all that nonsense she'd said about trusting him? If she'd really trusted him, she might have let him get a word in edgewise.

"You will see these people again," he said in a dangerous voice.

"Oh, and when would that be?" she taunted. "I'm not of your ilk, as you have so capably-if rather underhandedly-pointed out."

"No," he said softly, "you're better."

That startled her into silence. Her mouth trembled, and her voice shook when she finally said, "No. You can't do this. What you did is unforgivable, and you can't use sweet words as absolution."

James gritted his teeth and took a step toward her, heedless of the way Caroline and Blake were gaping at him. "I will give you one day to get over your anger, Elizabeth. You have until this time tomorrow."

"And then what happens?"

His eyes grew hot as he leaned forward, purposefully intimidating her with his size. "And then you marry me."

Chapter 18

Elizabeth punched him again, this time catching him so off guard that he tumbled to the ground.

"That is a terrible thing to say!" she cried out.

"Elizabeth," Caroline said, grabbing her wrist and yanking her to her side. "I think he just asked you to marry him. That's a nice thing to say. A nice thing." She turned to her husband, who was looking at James and trying not to laugh. "Isn't that a nice thing?"

"He doesn't mean it," Elizabeth snapped. "He's only saying that because he feels guilty. He knows what he did was wrong and-"

"Wait a moment," Blake interjected. "I thought you said he didn't even know he'd done anything wrong."

"He didn't. He doesn't. I don't know!" Elizabeth swung around, her eyes narrowing on the darkly handsome gentleman. "And you weren't even there. How do you know what I said? Were you eavesdropping?''

Blake, who had worked with James at the War Office for many years, simply shrugged. "Second nature, I'm afraid."

"Well, it's a despicable habit. I-" She stopped short, motioning toward him with an impatient gesture. “Who are you?"

"Blake Ravenscroft," he said with a polite bow.

"My husband," Caroline supplied.

"Ah, yes, the one who has been Mends with him"- Elizabeth jerked her hand toward James, who was sitting on the ground, holding his nose-"for years. Pardon me if that connection does not recommend you."

Blake only smiled.

Elizabeth shook her head, feeling oddly off-kilter. Her world was crashing down around her with dizzying speed, everyone was talking at once, and the only thing she seemed able to hold on to for any length of time was her anger for James. She shook her finger at him, still glaring at Blake. "He's an aristocrat. A bloody marquis."

"Is that so bad?" Blake asked, raising his brows.

"He should have told me!"

"James," Caroline said, kneeling down next to him as far as her costume would let her. “Are you bleeding?''

Bleeding? Elizabeth hated that she cared, but she couldn't stop her gasp, and she immediately turned to James. She would never forgive him for what he'd done, and she certainly never wanted to see him again, but she didn't want him to be hurt.

"I'm not bleeding," James muttered.

Caroline looked up at her husband and said, "She hit him twice."

"Twice?" Blake grinned. "Really?"

"It's not funny," Caroline said.

Blake looked down at James. "You let her hit you twice?"

"Hell, I taught her."

“That, good friend, shows an incredible lack of foresight on your part."

James scowled at him. "I was trying to teach her to protect herself."

"From whom? You?"

"No! From- Oh, for the love of God, what does it matter, I-" James looked up, saw Elizabeth carefully inching away, and bounded to his feet. "You're not going anywhere," he growled, grabbing at the sash at the waist of her costume.

"Let me go! Ouch-oh-James!" She wiggled like a fish out of water, unsuccessfully trying to turn around so that she could glare at him. "Let. Me. GO!"

"Not in a million years."

Elizabeth looked at Caroline pleadingly. Surely another woman would be sympathetic to her plight. "Please tell him to let me go."

Caroline glanced from James to Blake and then back at Elizabeth. Clearly torn between her allegiance to her old friend and her sympathy for Elizabeth, she stammered, "I-I don't know what's going on, except he didn't tell you who he was."

“Isn't that enough?''

"Well," Caroline hedged, "James rarely tells people who he is."

"What?" Elizabeth squeaked, whirling around so she could shove James in his aristocratic shoulder. "You have done this before? You despicable, amoral-"

"Enough!" James roared.

Six costumed heads peeked out from around the corner.

"I really think we ought to move inside," Caroline said weakly.

"Unless you prefer an audience," Blake added.

"I want to go home," Elizabeth stated, but no one was listening to her. She didn't know why this surprised her; no one had been listening to her all night.

James nodded curtly at Blake and Caroline and then motioned to the house with a quick jerk of his head. His grip tightened on the sash of Elizabeth's dress, and when he started to walk inside the house, there was nothing she could do but follow.

A few moments later she found herself in the library, the crudest stroke of irony. HOW TO MARRY A MARQUIS was still laying on the shelf, just where she'd left it.

Elizabeth suppressed an irrational urge to laugh. Mrs. Seeton had been right; there was a marquis around every corner. Nobility everywhere, just laying in wait to humiliate poor, unsuspecting women.

And that was what James had done. Every time he'd given her a lesson on how to catch a husband-a marquis, damn him-he'd humiliated her. Every time he'd tried to teach her how to smile or flirt, she'd been demeaned. And when he'd kissed her, pretending to be nothing more than a humble estate manager, he'd soiled her with his lies.