Chapter 3 #4
“A great age indeed,” he said sarcastically, one eyebrow crooking upward.
Amazing how the mere arch of his eyebrow could make her feel as much a child as the triplets.
She strained to stand taller and got a cramp in her lower back for her pains.
“Listen here, I may not be of your ancient years, but associating with my father’s titled friends taught me a great deal.
Marriage can be every bit as unpleasant as spinsterhood when one’s husband is a careless libertine with a wandering eye.
Katherine may not thank me now for warning her so publicly, but she will later! ”
He strode up to her and grabbed her by the shoulders, the falcon swooping down for the kill.
Oh, dear, now I’ve gone and done it.
“You don’t know what you’re doing, you little fool!” he growled.
The blatant attempt to intimidate her banished her fear and replaced it with fury.
Wrenching free of him, she hurried to the door.
“I know exactly what I’m doing. In my own way, I write the truth.
You may find this hard to understand, since subterfuge is your usual practice, but this is my charge, and I do it as faithfully as I can!
” She opened the door with a dramatic flourish.
“Good day, my lord. Our conversation is finished.”
His eyes narrowed. “Not by half.” He strode to the desk and stabbed his finger at her article. “I’m not leaving until you write that you were mistaken about my taking a house in Waltham Street for a woman.”
“Write a retraction?” The very idea appalled her.
She walked over to the desk and snatched up the page, folding it and shoving it into her apron pocket.
“I won’t do any such thing! First of all, I stand by my conclusions.
Secondly, saying you never took the house would be a lie, and regardless of what you think, I do not lie in my column. ”
He leaned against the desk and searched her face. Then a grim smile touched his lips. “What if I say I’ll publicly reveal Lord X’s identity? What then? Would your popularity be as great if your readers discovered the bluestocking female behind the witty nobleman’s facade?”
That he’d threaten her was the last straw.
Ignoring the jolt of fear his threat invoked, she wagged her finger at him.
“Go ahead, you bully! Expose me! And I’ll be after you like a magistrate after a thief!
Until you convince people I’m Lord X—and that may prove difficult, mind you—I’ll make you and all the rumors about you the only subject of my column! ”
At his thunderous look, she lowered her voice to a hiss.
“First I’ll set up camp outside your mistress’s door until she tells me every secret in your despicable life.
Then I’ll scour the city for information about you.
One way or the other, I won’t rest until I find out exactly why so many sordid rumors are linked to your name.
I’ll make it impossible for you to marry anyone in this city! ”
To his credit, he didn’t even blink at her threat. But she could tell she’d made her point, for if eyes were pistols, she’d be shot full of holes. “So we’re at an impasse,” he said icily.
She dragged in a shaky breath. Perhaps it hadn’t been so wise to meet threats with threats, especially when the man she threatened had power and wealth far exceeding her own meager resources.
As Papa had cautioned her whenever she wanted to rail at his patrons, “You can’t taunt a cannon with a club, my child. Not if you want to keep your head.”
Deliberately, she softened her tone. “I don’t see it as an impasse. Things will merely continue as before. You’ll forget about my article, and I’ll forget we had this conversation. That seems fair.”
“It ‘seems fair’ that you’ve trumped up some scandalous tale about me just to influence your friend’s choice of husband? You may think it ‘fair’ if it pacifies your conscience, but we both know it for the nasty manipulation that it is.”
“I’m sure you would recognize nasty manipulations more easily than I, given your reputation. I regard it as a service to womankind. And now, I have work to do. Good day, Lord St. Clair.”
He straightened. “Very well, Miss Taylor. I’ll leave.
” He walked past, pausing a few inches from where she stood.
Leaning toward her, he lowered his voice until it resembled the timbre and volume of a wolf’s growl.
“But I warn you, I’m a dangerous man to have as an enemy.
If I ever see you anywhere near my house on Waltham Street again, you’ll regret the day you picked up a pen and wrote about me. ”
Then he turned on his heel and stalked from the room.
She said nothing, ventured no flippant remark, no hot retort. Indeed, now that he was gone, it took all her effort to tamp down the fear in her breast. For despite her brave words, despite her insistence to herself that he was only bluffing, she believed him most heartily.
And the last thing she needed in her life right now was a dangerous lord.