related that it would be unseemly to form a match between us, being second cousins once removed.”
“Please, do not speak of marriage, my lord. Freddie has not even been gone four months. I cannot possibly consider a marriage. Society would not approve at all.”
“Society has always made allowances. It would, I’m sure, in your case. Two lovely ladies left all alone with barely enough inheritance to support them. Society would consider a marriage before the year’s mourning period was met an essential and wise decision.”
“N-no,” she stuttered. She rose from the sofa and took several steps away from him. “I will not even consider it.”
She thought of spending the rest of her life submitting to someone like Brentwood, and her stomach turned.
“I’m afraid you must, my lady. You cannot go on like this much longer.”
“We will be fine. We’re quite able to take care of ourselves living as we are.”
“That, I’m afraid, is the problem. Things cannot remain as they are.”
She stared at him as she tried to wrap her mind around what he was saying. A feeling of dread built inside her until she found it difficult to breathe.
“I have decided to hire a new caretaker. Since this is the caretaker’s cottage, I’m afraid you and your sister will have to move.”
Anne’s heart fell to the pit of her stomach. They were barely getting by as it was. What would they do now?
“Unfortunately, there is not another vacant cottage for you to move into. I’m afraid that leaves you homeless.”
The Marquess of Brentwood rose from his chair and walked across the room until he stood inches from her.
Now she knew how an animal felt when being stalked by poachers. She stepped as far away from him as she could.
“There is plenty of room at Brentwood Manor,” he continued, “but I can hardly expect you and your sister to live under my roof without tarnishing your pristine reputations. Therefore, I see marriage as the ideal answer to solve all our problems.”
Anne faced him with a certain amount of bravado she far from felt. “There are other options open to us. We will find another place to live.”
“Do you have the resources to pay the rent that would be required?”
“We’ll find it. There is no need for you to worry about us.”
“But I do. That is why I offered marriage. I’ve grown quite fond of you, Lady Anne. Haven’t you noticed?”
Before she could stop him, he clasped her upper arms and pulled her against him. He smelled of salty sea air and stale smoke and expensive liquor. She thought she would be ill.
“Every time I am near you, I can hardly keep my hands from reaching out to you, from touching you andholding you. You cannot imagine how I have dreamt of this moment.”
“Please. Let me go.”
He lowered his head to bring his face closer to hers. “Every night you consume my every thought, my every dream.”
“No, please. Don’t.”
She struggled, but he held her tighter, then brought his lips closer to hers. He was going to kiss her.
“No,” she said, pushing her fists against his chest. “I don’t want you to—”
His mouth covered hers, stopping her words.
A small, muffled cry echoed inside her head and she struggled against him.
He would not release her. He moved his mouth against hers, his tongue forcing its way through her lips, his touch rough and bruising. She pounded her fists against his chest and fought even harder.
“I’m not sure the lady appreciates your display of passion, Brentwood,” a harsh, unyielding voice said from the doorway behind them. “Perhaps you would play the gentleman and allow her to voice her consent before you maul her.”
The marquess dropped his hands. He released her so fast she stumbled against the wall.
Anne turned toward the voice. Her gaze focused on the large, imposing man who’d entered her home—Griffin Blackmoor, Freddie’s friend. The man who had come to Freddie’s funeral hurting more from her brother’s
“Please, do not speak of marriage, my lord. Freddie has not even been gone four months. I cannot possibly consider a marriage. Society would not approve at all.”
“Society has always made allowances. It would, I’m sure, in your case. Two lovely ladies left all alone with barely enough inheritance to support them. Society would consider a marriage before the year’s mourning period was met an essential and wise decision.”
“N-no,” she stuttered. She rose from the sofa and took several steps away from him. “I will not even consider it.”
She thought of spending the rest of her life submitting to someone like Brentwood, and her stomach turned.
“I’m afraid you must, my lady. You cannot go on like this much longer.”
“We will be fine. We’re quite able to take care of ourselves living as we are.”
“That, I’m afraid, is the problem. Things cannot remain as they are.”
She stared at him as she tried to wrap her mind around what he was saying. A feeling of dread built inside her until she found it difficult to breathe.
“I have decided to hire a new caretaker. Since this is the caretaker’s cottage, I’m afraid you and your sister will have to move.”
Anne’s heart fell to the pit of her stomach. They were barely getting by as it was. What would they do now?
“Unfortunately, there is not another vacant cottage for you to move into. I’m afraid that leaves you homeless.”
The Marquess of Brentwood rose from his chair and walked across the room until he stood inches from her.
Now she knew how an animal felt when being stalked by poachers. She stepped as far away from him as she could.
“There is plenty of room at Brentwood Manor,” he continued, “but I can hardly expect you and your sister to live under my roof without tarnishing your pristine reputations. Therefore, I see marriage as the ideal answer to solve all our problems.”
Anne faced him with a certain amount of bravado she far from felt. “There are other options open to us. We will find another place to live.”
“Do you have the resources to pay the rent that would be required?”
“We’ll find it. There is no need for you to worry about us.”
“But I do. That is why I offered marriage. I’ve grown quite fond of you, Lady Anne. Haven’t you noticed?”
Before she could stop him, he clasped her upper arms and pulled her against him. He smelled of salty sea air and stale smoke and expensive liquor. She thought she would be ill.
“Every time I am near you, I can hardly keep my hands from reaching out to you, from touching you andholding you. You cannot imagine how I have dreamt of this moment.”
“Please. Let me go.”
He lowered his head to bring his face closer to hers. “Every night you consume my every thought, my every dream.”
“No, please. Don’t.”
She struggled, but he held her tighter, then brought his lips closer to hers. He was going to kiss her.
“No,” she said, pushing her fists against his chest. “I don’t want you to—”
His mouth covered hers, stopping her words.
A small, muffled cry echoed inside her head and she struggled against him.
He would not release her. He moved his mouth against hers, his tongue forcing its way through her lips, his touch rough and bruising. She pounded her fists against his chest and fought even harder.
“I’m not sure the lady appreciates your display of passion, Brentwood,” a harsh, unyielding voice said from the doorway behind them. “Perhaps you would play the gentleman and allow her to voice her consent before you maul her.”
The marquess dropped his hands. He released her so fast she stumbled against the wall.
Anne turned toward the voice. Her gaze focused on the large, imposing man who’d entered her home—Griffin Blackmoor, Freddie’s friend. The man who had come to Freddie’s funeral hurting more from her brother’s
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