I love to hate you

by Keysian, Elizabeth

Harry’s expression was smug. No, this would not do. Whatever needed to be said, agreed, denied, must happen in private. He feared the truth would be agonising and had no intention of letting his little brother revel in his pain.

  Leaping from the bed, he seized Harry by the collar, spun him around and ejected him from the room. Then he took the key from the peg concealed beneath his banyan and locked the door.

  And turned back to face the woman he loved, who’d betrayed him so cruelly.

  Chapter 14

  The best experience she’d ever had, followed by the worst. Athene couldn’t stem the tears coursing down her face as she struggled back into her clothing, refusing to make eye contact with Rushbourne. She felt him standing behind her as she tried to fasten her corset, but could find no words to offer. She was too confused to say anything sensible anyway.

  “Here, let me help you with that.”

  She lowered her head, wiping her tears on her sleeve as he tugged her corset tight and tied it. Lacking the courage to confront him until the weeping had subsided, she shuffled into her gown, then sat down on his chair to replace her shoes and stockings.

  His presence was no longer palpable, and she prayed he was now getting dressed. The difficult conversation they needed to have would be easier to conduct without the distraction of his glorious nakedness.

  Finally, wearing her clothing like a suit of armour, she stood and turned to face him.

  He was sitting on the bed, clad in breeches and shirt, drumming his fingers gently on the shattered bed frame. It was the only sign he gave of disquiet.

  She bit her lip. “I’m so sorry. Harry is right, there was a conspiracy against you, and I was to be the instrument of taking you down a peg or two. But things got completely out of hand.”

  “I’ll say they did.” There was no rancour in his tone, but no warmth either. “So, giving yourself to me was not part of the plan.”

  “Of course not. I’m not so vile a person. What happened between us simply… happened.”

  “These things occur for a reason, Athene. Sometimes Fate knows better than we. But be assured, my sweet, I’d never have touched you if I hadn’t thought you’d accepted my offer of marriage beforehand.”

  She wished she could believe him. The Rushbourne she had known would have taken whatever was offered as his right. Could he have changed so much? Had she misjudged him?

  As the unwelcome gnaw of guilt bit at her conscience, she decided it was best to opt for honesty.

  “I didn’t mean to deceive you over that. I wanted you so badly—I never knew lust could be so powerful a thing. I said ‘yes’, because at that moment, I couldn’t imagine saying ‘no’. But before I take all the blame for being deceitful, may I remind you that you deceived me too. You said the door was locked, but Harry and Kat got in with little trouble.”

  Even as the words came out, she knew they were nothing compared to the crime she’d just committed. He was taking it so well. Seemingly. Should she give his offer genuine consideration after all?

  “I confess, I knew the door wasn’t locked. It’s a bit stiff, that’s all.”

  “So, you knew at any moment someone could come in and catch us. Why did you let things go so far?” He must be prepared to take some of the blame. Like her, he’d find guilt was a harsh mistress.

  “I wanted to see what you were going to do. I also thought I could release myself from your ribbons if I wanted to, but again, I was intrigued to find out how far you’d go. I confess, as things progressed between us, I forgot all about the door not being locked. We are both responsible for what happened, Athene. What’s important now is how we mitigate the damage”

  Damage? He’d suffer none at all. It would be her future, her reputation at risk if she didn’t marry him now. She’d hazarded everything on a moment’s temptation, and deserved to be shot.

  “I’ll explain everything to Kat—there should be no censure there. And she won’t tell anyone.” If only the same could be said for Harry. He’d been white with ire.

  Rushbourne let out a derisive snort. “It would be entirely hypocritical of your guardian to censure us, as she was in on the plan from the beginning. I shouldn’t imagine the ribbons were your idea, were they? What I’d like to know is, how far back does the plot go? When we kissed in the orangery—was that all an act as well?”

  Athene hung her head. Revenge was not what she’d imagined. “I’ve never felt so thoroughly ashamed.”

  “Of what in particular are you ashamed? Trying to trick me into thinking you cared? Or are you ashamed of yourself, for not maintaining control?”

  She felt behind her for his chair and collapsed into it, tears threatening once more. “It does go back to then.”

  “And whose idea was it in the first place? Yours, Miss Dunstable’s, or Harry’s?”

  If only he’d rail at her, be angry with her. This cool interrogation was so much harder to deal with. If only they would fight, she could run out in tears. But he wasn’t losing his temper, or insulting her, or bullying her, despite the provocation. It made it very hard for her to go on hating him.

  “I think it was Harry first put the notion into my head.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” He left the bed and strode across to her. Even now, she couldn’t look up at him.

  “Athene.” His voice was soft as he knelt before her and raised her chin with his hand. “We are both at fault. But Harry has played us for fools, for some foul reason of his own. The only solution I can see to our current predicament is that we should marry.”

  Her heart flipped over. Was he offering her an escape or a prison? “But our marriage would be based on falsehood.” He couldn’t want to marry her now, after learning the truth.

  He shook his head. “What happened between us was very real. I offer you a marriage of convenience, yes, but there will be love between us—if not of the heart, it will be of the body. Mine craves the taste of yours, regardless of what I might think about it and, if I may be presumptuous, it appears you are equally excited by me. And if the result is children, we will endeavour to love them dearly even if we don’t—”

  His voice caught. When she looked into his eyes, she saw an ineffable sadness in them.

  “Even if we don’t love each other,” he finished.

  Overcome by this unexpected generosity of spirit, she reached for his hand and pressed it against her cheek, then kissed his knuckles.

  “You have become almost gallant in your adult years, Oliver.” She attempted a lightness of tone she was far from feeling. “But if I accept you, I condemn you to a loveless marriage. Never once in my long thirst for revenge did I envisage such a fate for you. I must refuse your offer.”

  He seized his hand back, then lifted her to her feet, bending his head to gaze directly into her eyes. “If you refuse me, who will have you now I’ve ruined you? You have no fortune to attract a man. Will you live a lie and pretend you are still virgin? How will your husband react when he makes that discovery on your wedding night? It will then be you who are humiliated, you who are scorned, you who must tolerate life in a loveless marriage. A marriage where there isn’t even mutual respect.”

  She felt again the tremendous lure of his taut, well-honed body, the heat it exuded, the promise she could see in the depths of his eyes. He was right—they would still have this one precious gift—the compatibility of their two bodies, the opportunity to offer a slice of heaven to one another in the bedchamber.

  She felt herself weaken under the weight of his certainty. “You make a convincing argument.”

  His hands trembled where they rested on her shoulders, and his breathing stalled. He wanted this, and if he wanted it enough, perhaps he would be prepared to make compromises. He might even make an effort to improve.

  And when all was said and done, was there really a better alternative?

  “Very well. I accept your offer of marriage in principle but pray, arrange nothing at this stage. We both have much thinking to do, and there are
others who will be affected by our decision. Let us keep this a secret, or at least, not let it go beyond immediate family.”

  Disappointment warred with triumph in his eyes. Giving her a wry look, he said, “So, you’d rather not take the ring I bought you.”

  She glanced towards the little table, where the velvet-covered box still waited.

  “It would be wrong to accept it but not wear it.”

  “No one need know it’s a betrothal ring.” His fingers tightened on her shoulders before he released her and picked up the little box. “Open it.” His voice was hoarse with excitement, and she couldn’t help but smile.

  A gold ring nestled inside, set with five small cut gems which reflected the firelight and turned it into a multitude of tiny dancing flames. She lifted the ring and cradled it in her hand, and the fiery lights remained.

  “They are orange topaz. I always think of you as having chestnut hair with highlights of red. I thought the ring would suit you.”

  Her heart thumped yet harder as she tried the ring on. It was a tight fit but could always be altered. One day, when everything was settled between them.

  “I can’t accept this. Not after the way I’ve treated you.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Am I sensing remorse? Do you no longer view me as a monster?”

  “I may be prepared to admit you’ve improved…a little.”

  “Keep the ring. Here’s the box so you won’t lose it. Now, let us give the outward appearance of being a happy couple and do nothing to give the Ton reason to suspect us of duplicity. I promise to take no more liberties. Except for this.”

  As he folded her fingers around the box, he stooped and brushed his lips across her mouth, arousing instantly the same sensual excitement which had led to her earlier surrender.

  Time for a hasty retreat, before matters developed again. “Thank you.” She squeezed his hand and hurried out the door and across the landing towards her room, her mind buzzing with the enormity of what she’d just done.

  And ran full tilt into a furious-looking Harry.

  Chapter 15

  “You’ve ruined everything, Athene.”

  Harry’s fingers bit painfully into her arms. What had happened to the sweet, easy-going boy she used to know?

  “Let me be the judge of that,” she countered. “Let go of me, please. The other guests will be seeking their beds soon, and I’ve had enough of untoward exposure tonight.”

  “Then we’ll talk up here.”

  He grabbed a candle with one hand and the sleeve of her gown with the other and hurried her through a narrow doorway and up the servants’ staircase to the floor above. Where was he taking her?

  “Harry, no. It’s late. I don’t feel like talking.”

  Ignoring her, he thrust open another door and held up his candle. The room was long, and she could see stars through its glass roof. The walls were set with smooth wooden rails from which fresh-smelling bedlinen hung. In the middle of one wall was the back of a chimney stack, which must be the source of the additional heat in the room.

  “You’ve brought me here to look at laundry?”

  “I’ve brought you where we can talk undisturbed.” He’d released her now, for which she was grateful—she’d feared for the seams of her gown, being only too aware things had got to the point where she couldn’t afford to replace it.

  “Could you not have waited until the morning? We might have gone for a walk or a ride. It’s all a bit havey-cavey, sneaking around the back stairs in the dark.”

  “What I have to say can’t wait.”

  “You do realise what’s happened between myself and Oliver is not, in fact, any of your business.”

  “It certainly is, if you have any intention of marrying him. You’ve accepted his ring, so I must assume you have.”

  She looked down at her hand. If Harry hadn’t absconded with her, she’d planned to put the ring back in its box until everything was settled.

  “There is a great deal to sort out—”

  “Don’t you know that I like you? Did you never notice how I idolised you when we were small? Yes, I know I’m still a few months short of eighteen now, but I’m already a man, and even though you’re two years older, there’d be no reason why we couldn’t marry.”

  She folded her arms and frowned at him. “Aside from the fact we’re both under age. Anyway, if you liked me, why did you encourage me to seduce your brother?”

  “Because I never expected you to do anything more than put a few ideas into his head, maybe kiss him, and then tie him to the bed. But I had been beginning to doubt—”

  He broke off and looked self-conscious.

  “Tell me.”

  “When I saw you again, the night we all arrived, I couldn’t help but wonder, as you’d grown into a diamond of the first water, what it would feel like to kiss you.”

  Jigsaw pieces clicked together in Athene’s mind. She didn’t like the picture they created.

  “It was you who kissed me in the dark, shortly before I ran into Rushbourne. Not very gentlemanly behaviour, Harry.”

  “At the time, I thought it was really romantic. But it…wasn’t what I expected. You know what it’s like when you let the anticipation build up to do something wicked and then…well, nothing.”

  She pressed her lips together. Not a very flattering remark. But at least Harry was being truthful. “So, I won’t have two brothers fighting over me at any rate. I still don’t understand why you’re so upset about me marrying him though.”

  “If you wed, your children will be the heirs to the earldom. Not me.”

  For a moment, his eyes showed the same vulnerability he’d exhibited in childhood, but it was rapidly replaced by a calculating expression. Most unnerving.

  “But Harry,” she said gently, hoping to mollify him, “it doesn’t matter if it’s me he marries, or someone else. There will be heirs, and they will inherit.”

  “I’m addressing each problem as I come to it, and you’re the first one. And before you condemn me as wicked or greedy, let me say I only want to put Rushbourne off marrying until I’ve got myself sorted out. Once I’m saddled with a profession Papa approves of, I’ll have an income from that as well as a bigger allowance from him. So, you see, I can’t let you marry now.”

  “I must, Harry. I’m sorry. It’s not what anyone wanted, but we’ll have to make the best of it.”

  Just as she was getting used to the idea of having Rushbourne as a husband, Harry was trying to talk her out of it—but for entirely selfish reasons. She should not be swayed by those.

  “I see by the set of your chin you mean to go through with it. Are you so weak, then, that you’ve forgiven him his misdemeanours? Maybe you think he’s grown out of his reprehensible behaviour, but I can assure you he has not.”

  Athene could still feel the fire of Rushbourne’s latest ‘reprehensible behaviour’ running through her body. That one act had changed her as a person. It had changed her expectations of marriage too. Could any man enslave her body as thoroughly as he had done? Somehow, she doubted it.

  “If there’s something I ought to know, pray, tell me, Harry.”

  His expression was fierce as he blinked rapidly. “You may not have heard about the gambling dens he frequents. You certainly won’t have heard about his womanising.”

  For a man with Rushbourne’s attractions, she could understand the womanising—they probably threw themselves in his path with sickening regularity. She had to hope they’d stop doing so once he was married. But…gambling? It didn’t fit with his apparent need for control. Did a man like him ever leave anything to chance?

  “Gambling? That’s unfortunate. I shall have to see if marriage can improve him.”

  Harry bared his teeth at her. “How can you be so stupid and stubborn? You hated him not half an hour ago. Is he really such a master at fornication?”

  She suspected he was. But that was none of Harry’s business. “Harry, I’m sorry, but I have more at stake than yo
u. If I don’t accept his offer, I’ll be condemned to a miserable, poverty-stricken existence.”

  “As will I be if you marry him and have children. I’ll lose my right to the earldom.”

  “You wouldn’t inherit the estates until his death anyway. Or were you planning to expedite that?” Did Rushbourne have any idea how much his brother resented him? Was there any way to lessen this animosity? Most unexpectedly, she was beginning to feel sorry for her fiancé.

  “Of course not.” Harry turned away, threw his head back and looked up through the lichen-etched glass at the stars. “But I can be most determined, Athene.” He spun around to face her again and inhaled deeply. “I know how to get what I want.”

  How could her childhood friend have grown up so bitter, so resentful? She reached a hand towards him, but he flinched back.

  “Don’t touch me. I’m too angry with you. You are no friend to me, Miss Athene Heartless. Friends help one another, and don’t ignore each other’s warnings.”

  Suddenly she felt immensely tired. Her emotions and feelings had been put through the mill tonight. She needed to be alone so she could consider her options. As if there was really any more than one…

  “It’s getting late. I won’t discuss this any further.”

  “Ah, but I’ve not yet played my ace.” Harry’s voice had hardened. “If you agree to wed my brother, I shall go to Papa with what I know about Rushbourne’s wagers and his women. And I’ll explain how both Miss Dunstable and I caught you in flagrante delicto. The man may be wandering a bit in his mind these days, but he won’t have changed his attitude to that kind of sinful behaviour. He will disinherit Oliver. Then you will both descend into poverty and obscurity. And to make doubly sure of my success, I shall alert the press too—don’t think I wouldn’t. I often frequent the coffee houses, you know, and make friends very easily.”

  She clutched at one of the wooden rails. His threat hit home like an explosive blast, knocking her to the wall and stealing her breath. She sucked in a few gasps of air, then managed, “You wouldn’t do it, would you, Harry? It would be wicked.”