even with him for his earlier dismissal of marriage, but a little
deceit on her part would have been less hazardous to his masculinity.
Implacably, he led her toward the only solution. “I cannot
sail for the same reason you did not tell your uncle to go hang himself. We are
in this together. It is imperative to both of our livelihoods that we find the
smugglers, and we’ll both be useless if we’re in prison.”
She watched him warily. “I’m not certain marriage is any
solution. For all I know of you, you may already be married.”
He almost smiled at the well-deserved insult. “You can be
assured that I never considered that degree of respectability. Perhaps when I
write to my family of our proposed betrothal I should ask them to reply with a
character reference. It should be very amusing to hear their opinion of me.”
“Proposed betrothal? I will do what is necessary to keep us
from jail, but be assured I will not consider so much as a proposal, and
certainly not a betrothal.”
“You have such a soothing way with words, Miss Wellington.
Or shall I call you Evelyn, under the circumstances? If you are any more
agreeable, I will be tempted to leave you with your uncle’s wrath and do as you
suggest and sail away.”
“I cannot see any other solution,” she replied irritably,
stalking to the far end of the room to glare out the window.
“It’s quite simple, Miss Wellington. Unless you harbor a tendre for someone who will be quite heartbroken at your abrupt change of
heart, we agree to this marriage your uncle is so eager to carry out. Have you
any idea exactly why he is so eager to see us wedded?”
She turned and eyed him with disfavor. “I daresay he hopes
you will haul me off to England where I won’t embarrass him anymore. When my
father was alive, he could say nothing, but ever since my father died, he has
been trying to run my life. I won’t have it, Mr. Hampton. I won’t marry just to
make him happy.”
“I should hope not,” Alex agreed, sitting on the edge of the
desk and crossing his arms. Her dark hair shone with glints of red and gold in
the sunlight, a most attractive shade, he decided. But the sun at her back cast
her face in shadow, and he could not read her expression.
He couldn’t tell if she had considered what would happen to
her warehouse under someone else’s management if she married and left for
England. “We will only agree to the marriage,” he explained. “We need not go
through with it. A long betrothal is called for under the circumstances, would
you not agree? And when we have our villains behind bars, we will have a
violent disagreement—not at all out of character, considering our natures—and
you will throw me out on my ear. I shall sail away, never to be seen again.
Will that work?”
***
Evelyn considered it. She disliked dishonesty, but she
could tell the deceit didn’t bother this . . . rake . . .
at all. She also disliked the idea of being constantly in his company, which
this specious engagement would entail. Still, she had to admit, it would also
make it easier for them to work together.
She looked up to where he sat carelessly swinging his leg
from the edge of the desk. He didn’t seem concerned about her decision. His
striking masculinity made it difficult to think logically. She could not
imagine why an arrogant London gentleman like Alexander Hampton would even
consider pretending to be betrothed to a nonentity like her.
Returning to the Persian carpet in front of the desk, Evelyn
regarded him quizzically. He was really too rude-looking to be called handsome
in the conventional sense. He certainly didn’t have a pleasant demeanor. His
mouth was more likely to be turned up in a sneer than in humor. Those blasted
eyes always hinted of mockery, even now when he sat calmly under her perusal.
She would like to shake his self-assurance just a little, but he was far more
likely to shake hers.
“Tell me, Mr. Hampton, just exactly what is a
deceit on her part would have been less hazardous to his masculinity.
Implacably, he led her toward the only solution. “I cannot
sail for the same reason you did not tell your uncle to go hang himself. We are
in this together. It is imperative to both of our livelihoods that we find the
smugglers, and we’ll both be useless if we’re in prison.”
She watched him warily. “I’m not certain marriage is any
solution. For all I know of you, you may already be married.”
He almost smiled at the well-deserved insult. “You can be
assured that I never considered that degree of respectability. Perhaps when I
write to my family of our proposed betrothal I should ask them to reply with a
character reference. It should be very amusing to hear their opinion of me.”
“Proposed betrothal? I will do what is necessary to keep us
from jail, but be assured I will not consider so much as a proposal, and
certainly not a betrothal.”
“You have such a soothing way with words, Miss Wellington.
Or shall I call you Evelyn, under the circumstances? If you are any more
agreeable, I will be tempted to leave you with your uncle’s wrath and do as you
suggest and sail away.”
“I cannot see any other solution,” she replied irritably,
stalking to the far end of the room to glare out the window.
“It’s quite simple, Miss Wellington. Unless you harbor a tendre for someone who will be quite heartbroken at your abrupt change of
heart, we agree to this marriage your uncle is so eager to carry out. Have you
any idea exactly why he is so eager to see us wedded?”
She turned and eyed him with disfavor. “I daresay he hopes
you will haul me off to England where I won’t embarrass him anymore. When my
father was alive, he could say nothing, but ever since my father died, he has
been trying to run my life. I won’t have it, Mr. Hampton. I won’t marry just to
make him happy.”
“I should hope not,” Alex agreed, sitting on the edge of the
desk and crossing his arms. Her dark hair shone with glints of red and gold in
the sunlight, a most attractive shade, he decided. But the sun at her back cast
her face in shadow, and he could not read her expression.
He couldn’t tell if she had considered what would happen to
her warehouse under someone else’s management if she married and left for
England. “We will only agree to the marriage,” he explained. “We need not go
through with it. A long betrothal is called for under the circumstances, would
you not agree? And when we have our villains behind bars, we will have a
violent disagreement—not at all out of character, considering our natures—and
you will throw me out on my ear. I shall sail away, never to be seen again.
Will that work?”
***
Evelyn considered it. She disliked dishonesty, but she
could tell the deceit didn’t bother this . . . rake . . .
at all. She also disliked the idea of being constantly in his company, which
this specious engagement would entail. Still, she had to admit, it would also
make it easier for them to work together.
She looked up to where he sat carelessly swinging his leg
from the edge of the desk. He didn’t seem concerned about her decision. His
striking masculinity made it difficult to think logically. She could not
imagine why an arrogant London gentleman like Alexander Hampton would even
consider pretending to be betrothed to a nonentity like her.
Returning to the Persian carpet in front of the desk, Evelyn
regarded him quizzically. He was really too rude-looking to be called handsome
in the conventional sense. He certainly didn’t have a pleasant demeanor. His
mouth was more likely to be turned up in a sneer than in humor. Those blasted
eyes always hinted of mockery, even now when he sat calmly under her perusal.
She would like to shake his self-assurance just a little, but he was far more
likely to shake hers.
“Tell me, Mr. Hampton, just exactly what is a
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