Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Jenny could hear him from the end of the hallway, the same litany of curses that had accompanied his departure from the outbuilding where he’d almost died.
Jenny halted. “I don’t think I should bother him…
” she began, but Miranda simply opened the door to the bedroom and pushed her through, closing the door behind her.
Brat lay in bed, a loose white shirt over his shoulders, a stark white bandage on his arm, looking supremely bad-tempered. “It’s about time,” he said, looking at her out of those dark eyes. “Where were you?” His eyes narrowed. “And why are you dressed for travelling?”
“I’m leaving. I didn’t wish to bother you, but your mother thought I should bid you goodbye, and I thought it only proper that I thank you for saving my life.”
“Only proper. And you are so very proper, aren’t you, Mrs. Lancaster?” he said, his temper not improving. “And where do you think you’re going?”
“Why do you want to know?” she shot back, her own temper rising.
“So I can come and drag you back once my arm is better. I can’t very well carry off my bride with only one arm working.”
She stared at him in astonishment. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“You’re the ridiculous one. You’re not leaving.”
“I most certainly am.” Anger fought with her grief and almost won.
“I took a bullet for you and now you’re thinking you can just saunter off and leave me in my bed of pain? I don’t think so. You owe me.”
“Owe you what?” she shot back, her heart hammering.
“Don’t go.” All the bluster had left his voice and he was looking at her from those dark, hypnotic eyes.
“But…but why?” Emotions were warring within her, hope and despair, joy and sorrow.
“Because I have the great misfortune to have fallen in love with you, even though I’m too young to give up my wicked ways, but there you have it. I can’t live without you, so I’ll simply have to become a staid old married man.”
As marriage proposals go, it was a great deal lacking, and Jenny simply looked at him. “No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t love you.”
He grinned. “Now that’s not true, and we both know it. You’re just as trapped as I am. I know I’m not what you thought you wanted. You probably hoped to marry some sober widower of advanced years, but fate intervened. You love me, and you’re going to marry me. My mother is determined.”
It was getting worse and worse. “Your mother?” she said, her teeth on edge. “I’m supposed to marry you because your mother wants me to?”
“She’s a formidable woman. She knew before I did. And my father is downright devious—he’ll kidnap you if I’m not able to come after you. Accept it, your fate is sealed.”
“I’m supposed to marry you for your parents’ sake?”
He sighed. “You haven’t been listening. I love you. You love me. I want to spend the next six weeks making love to you, and then the next sixty years after that. You belong with me, and you know it. Now stop arguing and climb into bed with me. I’m in need of a cuddle.”
They were all mad, every single one of them.
But she was mad as well, and there was no room for common sense anymore.
She climbed onto the bed, moving carefully so as not to jar his arm, and curled up beside him, her head on his chest. “You’ll be sorry,” she murmured.
“I’ll make your life a living hell of proper behavior and manners. ”
“I know you will, sweetheart. And for you, I’ll do it. Call me Brat.”
She shook her head. “James,” she said, and kissed him.
Miranda moved away from the door, a satisfied smile on her face as the sound of laughter rang forth. It was going to be a Merry Christmas after all.