Jessica knew, even as she descended the library ladder, the book she wanted clasped in her hand, that she was not to be that fortunate. Her back was to the door when it opened. The person entering could have been any one of a dozen or more people. But she knew without turning just who it was. And she knew by the way the door closed quietly but firmly behind him that he had seen her come in and had come deliberately to talk to her. She drew a deep breath and returned both feet to the floor.

"Good morning, Jess," the Earl of Rutherford said.

"Good morning, my lord," she said, turning and smiling brightly-too brightly, she thought immediately with some annoyance. She held up the book. "I am on an errand for Grandpapa." She moved purposefully toward him and the door.

"Let him wait for it a while," he said, smiling at her and taking the book from her suddenly nerveless fingers when she was close enough. "May I talk to you, Jess?"

"Grandpapa is waiting," she said. "He has nothing else with which to occupy his time."

"Stay and talk with me, Jess," he said.

If he just would not smile! she thought. A smile did wonders for his face. It did not make it exactly more handsome, but it made him look kindly and far more human. She preferred his arrogant look. It was easier to withstand. She said nothing.

"I made a mess of things rather the last time I talked to you about marriage," he said. "I am hoping I can do somewhat better this time."

"Oh, no!" Jessica put both hands up defensively before her. "Please say no more, my lord. I told you on that occasion that I have no wish to marry you. Nothing has changed since then."

"But why not?" he asked. "What is the problem, Jess?"

She was shaking her head. "We would not suit," she said. "You are not the sort of man with whom I would feel comfortable. I… I cannot accept, my lord."

He frowned. "What have I done that is so dreadful in your sight?" he asked. "From the first I have shown a preference for you. I have never forced you into anything against your will. I offered you marriage even before I knew who you were, so you cannot accuse me of snobbery. I know you are not averse to my person."

"That is unimportant," she said. "There are many qualities one looks for in a husband beyond that."

"And you can find nothing else in me to esteem, Jess?" he asked.

She shook her head but said nothing. She was gazing at him almost imploringly.

"Am I so lacking in all admirable qualities?" he said harshly. "I had not thought myself quite so depraved. Perhaps your standards are just too high, madam."

"Perhaps they are," she said very quietly.

He looked at her in exasperation for a few silent moments. "You realize that it makes no difference whatsoever, don't you?" he asked. "You must marry me whether you admire me or not. Perhaps it is fortunate that at least my caresses please you, Jess."

"I will not marry you," she said calmly.

He laughed unpleasantly. "You did not hear me," he said. "You have no choice, my dear, any more than I have. Do you think I enjoy the thought of marrying a woman who despises me, who cannot see one trace of goodness in me? And a woman, moreover, who has deceived me and thereby trapped me into having to marry her? Oh, I know you did not deliberately do that, Jess, but you did it nonetheless."

"You need not fear," she said, her voice flat. "I will not marry you."

Two very heavy hands clamped onto her shoulders suddenly, and she found herself looking into two very intense blue eyes. "You are still a virgin," he said, "but do you realize by what narrow a margin, my girl? You and I have done together everything else that a husband does with his wife except that and indeed a great deal more than a wife of any great sensibility would ever dream of doing. You have lain in bed with me, Jess. Your body holds only one secret from me. In this society that you have shown some eagerness to be a part of young ladies do not offer even their lips to a man unless they are prepared to marry him. You have been compromised, Jess. Hopelessly and irretrievably compromised. You must marry me."

"I will not marry you," she said. Her breath was coming fast, but she looked steadfastly back into his eyes. She would not cringe before him.

He shook her roughly before releasing her and turning his back on her. "There are certain things that one does, whether one likes them or not," he said. "Marrying a lady one has compromised is one of them. It seems you have been shut away from proper behavior for too long to know what is what, Jess. Marry me you must. You will find that your grandfather will be as adamant as I. I shall discuss the matter further with him. I am more likely to get satisfactory results."

"Do so," she said. "Perhaps you would also like to marry my grandfather. It might be a more satisfactory marriage."

He spun around again, his face such a mask of fury that Jessica took an involuntary step backward. His hands opened and closed into fists at his side.

"By God, Jess," he said, "you had better learn to curb your tongue before we are wed. I am very like to strike you if you speak to me in that way ever again, and then you will have yet another evil aspect of ray character to throw in my teeth. I have tried to be pleasant to you. I have tried to make a friend of you. I have tried to show you in the last few days that marriage to me will not be such a bad bargain after all. It seems you are determined to cast me in the role of villain. But it would be in your own interests to try to alter your vision, my dear. I would imagine it is a dreadful thing indeed to hate one's husband. And I will be your husband."

"Fortunately, my lord," she said with as much calm as she could muster, "I live in England, where one may expect to have one's freedom upheld in a court of law, and I am of age. I will not be married merely because I have a desirable body or merely because I have transgressed a rule of a society that I have lived without all my life. I am a person, Lord Rutherford, and when I marry-if I marry-it will be to a man who believes that he cannot live a complete life without that person-all of it. All of me. Call me a hopeless romantic if you wish. Yes, that is what I am. I will not marry because I must. I will marry only when I will."

He was staring at her with wide-open eyes, the harsh, arrogant look completely gone. Jessica picked up the book very deliberately from the table where he had laid it, stepped past him, and left the room. When she turned to shut the door quietly behind her, it was to find that he had not moved.

14

Lord Rutherford stood for a long time in the same spot after Jessica had left the library, his eyes closed, his hands clenched loosely at his sides. She would not marry a man who wanted her for her physical attractions merely, she had said, or one who offered only because she had broken society's rules. She would marry only the man who could assure her that he wanted all of her, her whole person. She would marry only a man who loved her.

Had he failed, could he possibly have failed to show her that he was such a man? Could he possibly have given the impression that he wanted her only for one of the first two reasons? Surely not. He loved her so very deeply, had been so obsessed by his need of her for weeks, that surely he must have made that fact obvious to her. She could not have failed to understand. She had rejected him because she did not want him, did not love him, not because she misunderstood. Surely.

Had he told her that he loved her? Lord Rutherford cast his mind back over his confused memories of their interview. No, he had not used that exact word. He could be almost sure of that. It was not a word he was accustomed to using. He would be self-conscious using it. He would certainly remember if he had told her that he loved her.

What had he said, then? He must have said something that would have conveyed the same message to her. He recalled admitting to her that he had made a mess of the last proposal. That was when he had planned to tell her that at that time he had still been largely unaware himself of the fact that his whole happiness depended upon her accepting his hand. That was when he was to have told her how much he had come to esteem her, how much he longed to get to know her fully. That was when he might have told her he loved her if he could have summoned the courage to use that exact word.

But he had not said any of those things. She had stopped him. She had told him they would not suit. She had told him that there was nothing in him that she could esteem. He could not recall her exact words, but that was what she had meant. He had felt almost blinded with hurt. To be told by anyone that one is worthless is painful. To be told that by someone one loves is almost unbearable.

What had he done? How had he reacted? Had he become angry immediately? He knew he had become angry. He had even threatened to strike her. But no, he had not lost his temper right away. He might as well have, though. He had turned high-handed, pointing out to her with bull-headed arrogance that she had no choice but to marry him. If anything could be more calculated to make Jess Moore quite immovably determined never to marry him, it was just such an argument. And he had used it to the full!

What a fool. What an utter fool! Lord Rutherford took a long and uncomfortable look at himself through the eyes of Jessica and shuddered. Had he ever once in their whole acquaintance asked her what she wanted? As a governess she must wish for the unexpected delight of a night spent in his bed. As a dismissed employee she must receive with gratitude his flattering offer of employment as his mistress. As a young guest of questionable social status in the home of his grandmother she must accept with alacrity his condescending offer of marriage. As the compromised young granddaughter of a marquess she must rush with relief to the haven of his arms away from the jaws of scandal.