Knight of Love by Catherine LaRoche Page B

voice, judging that she owed him this much at least. “I must ask again, however, that we make what arrangements we can on the morrow for my passage to the nearest British or allied officials.”
    He swirled the plum brandy in the small glass. “What makes you think any allied official, including the British, would not simply send you straight back to Prince Kurt?”
    The question startled her. She’d assumed that as a highborn lady with well-placed family connections, her wishes would be carried out. She knew that she could count on her parents to protect her from Kurt and end the betrothal. But it was perhaps true that his fellow princes and the other German nobles, as well as governing officials in allied states, might have an interest in supporting Kurt over her.
    She realized suddenly that she’d been naive. “But surely, as the British ambassador in Frankfurt, Lord Durham would support me?”
    â€œYou broke your betrothal contract by fleeing Schloss Rotenburg,” the earl pointed out. “You know as well as I do that for families at your social level, a marriage is not merely a union of man and woman but a financial and dynastic alliance as well. The British favor the German Confederation; they see it as a useful check against the power of Prussia and Austria. Being forced to take sides against the leader of a German principality would place the ambassador in a very awkward situation.”
    She scraped back her chair to stand abruptly. “I am not going back to him!” She’d been too caught up in her own pain to consider such political implications of her escape.
    More slowly, he set down his glass and rose from his chair as well. “No, you are not,” he said quietly. “We are in agreement on that point. In fact, I pledge my life and the offer of my name on it.”
    She let her heartbeat settle as she gripped the back of her chair. Good—he wouldn’t send her back. But there he went again with that chivalry of his, when romantic flimflam was not the answer to her problems. She drew breath for battle. “My lord,” she began, “we must discuss this matter rationally. I am sure you have had time to reconsider your earlier suggestion.”
    He pulled out her chair to settle her again at the table. “I have considered it most carefully. We will wed.”
    She tried to rein in her frustration and failed. “Is this some sort of lark for you? Marriage would bind us for life!”
    â€œI am well aware of that fact and assure you that I am fully prepared to make such a commitment.”
    â€œWhy do you care?” she cried. “Why do you insist on taking me up as your personal crusade?”
    The earl leaned over her chair and grasped its back rails, his face inches from hers. She sat trapped, framed between his corded arms, ensnared within the dark energy of a massive male vibrating with violence. “I had to stand there and watch him have you flogged.” His clipped words radiated a restrained fury, and a muscle ticked along his jaw.
    She bit the inside of her lip to stop its quivering and forced herself to hold his gaze. She would not let him see her fear.
    The earl drew breath to continue more calmly. “A man—a real man—does not stand by and allow a woman to be hurt. You have become my responsibility, Lenora. Fate has brought us together here in Germany.”
    He believed it. She saw the conviction of his statement shining in the hot blue of his eyes. But what man made major life decisions on the spur of the moment, driven by medieval notions of rescuing a damsel in distress?
    â€œWhy marry me?” She tried again to reason with him. “See me to safety, fine—you’ll have done your duty and earned my eternal thanks. But we needn’t marry .”
    â€œMarriage is the best way to ensure your protection—the only way, should you be recaptured by the prince. And I’m afraid such