An Escapade and an Engagement by Annie Burrows Page A

aside for
me. But the bulk of his fortune, along with all the land, went to the new holder
of his title.’
    ‘You mean you have nothing? ’
    That was not strictly true. The lawyers had drawn up what they
considered a reasonable settlement when her mother had married the Marquis of
Tunstall, to provide for any female offspring of the union. But in comparison
with what a son would have had Lady Jayne considered her inheritance from him to
be a paltry sum.
    His face distorted with fury, Harry thrust her roughly away
from him.
    ‘You bitch!’
    She was not sure what hurt most. Her hip, where it had caught
on the corner of the balustrade, or her feelings at being called by such a vile
word. Or the expression of complete loathing on Harry’s face.
    ‘All this time you have been leading me on when you knew full
well there was never any chance I could marry you!’
    This was terrible. She had known he would be hurt when he
learned it must end, but she’d never expected him to think she’d deliberately
deceived him. No wonder he was furious.
    ‘I did not mean to lead you on,’ she said, stretching out her
hand as she begged for his understanding. ‘I simply did not think.’
    He seized her by the upper arms, his fingers digging into her
flesh.
    ‘Well, if you think,’ he snarled, thrusting his face into hers,
‘that I am going to keep hanging around on the off-chance your grandfather might
change his mind about me, then you are very much mistaken. This is farewell, my
lady.’
    Then his mouth came crashing down on hers. And it was horrible.
Far worse than the last time he’d kissed her. It was as though he was trying to
punish her. She could taste his anger in the metallic tang of blood when his
teeth ground against her lips. Though she did not try to fight him off, as she
had the last time he had pounced on her and taken liberties. She just stood
there, rigid in his embrace, accepting the punishment she felt she fully
deserved.
    ‘My God,’ he said, abruptly letting her go. ‘What a narrow
escape I’ve had. You don’t even have what it takes to keep a man warm at
night.’
    She groped behind her for the balustrade. Her legs were shaking
so much it was all that kept her from slumping to the ground.
    ‘They call you Chilblain Jayne—did you know that? Because
though you look delectable enough to heat a man’s blood to boiling point, the
minute he tries to put his hands on you the frost you exude will freeze all his extremities.’ He laughed mockingly as she
flinched. ‘Frankly, I don’t have the patience to try and thaw you out. Nobody
would even attempt to without the lure of the Earl of Caxton’s fortune. You are
just not worth the effort.’
    And then he turned on his heel and stalked off into the house,
leaving the French doors swinging wide behind him.
    She pressed her hand to her bruised lips, feeling sick.
    It had all been a sham. He had been pretending. Deceiving her
because he wanted her money. Not her. Never her.
    But then, when had anyone ever wanted her?
    She felt like curling up into a ball and keening with pain. But
she could not. She just could not bear to think someone might witness her
humiliation.
    She had to find Milly and get home.
    She blundered her way back to the ballroom, half blinded by the
tears she could not even wipe from her eyes because of the mask she dared not
remove lest anyone recognise her.
    But before she’d made it through the door a pair of arms shot
out and grabbed her. A man, a very large and very strong man, whirled her right
off her feet and carried her, kicking and struggling, back into the
conservatory.
    * * *
    Lord Ledbury’s spirits had been steadily sinking since
the night of the theatre trip. But they had hit rock bottom the night before,
when he’d seen the bet written down for all to see. Two so-called gentlemen had
staked a tidy sum on the precise amount of time it would take Morty’s successor
to thaw out ‘Chilblain Jayne.’ His insistence that she