An Unexpected Gentleman by Alissa Johnson

would I put my second family?” She spat. She was shocked at her own words. Shocked, and pleased.
    His lips tucked down in a thoughtful frown. “I’m afraid I have to insist on fidelity.”
    “You humiliated me,” she ground out.
    His gaze skittered away for a split second before returning to hers. It was the smallest of movements, the stingiest hint of discomfort, but it was something. It was enough. She felt a burgeoning sense of power, of righteousness, of pure spleen.
    “You humiliated my family. You tore my name to shreds and show not the slightest hint of shame now to be holding the remnants of it ransom. Do you think I care one jot for your insistence? You’ll pay for what you’ve done. You’ll pay dearly. And the punishment will be of my choosing.”
    He cocked his head at her. “Is that a yes?”
    The sound that emerged from her throat was too strangled to pass for a true snarl. Out of insults, she snatched up her cloak, spun on her heel, and headed for the door.
    “Adelaide.”
    His tone was soft and undemanding. The sudden change startled her into turning around.
    He looked at her without smiling and spoke without humor. “Humiliating you was never my intention.”
    She absorbed that silently for a moment. “Is that an apology?”
    “It is.”
    She didn’t believe for a moment he was in earnest. The man changed his nature as if he were trying on a closet full of new coats. She didn’t care for the cut of anything she saw at present.
    She tipped her chin up and looked down the length of her nose. “How noble of you. Let us see how sorry you are after I’m done with you.”
    Pleased with what she felt was a very fine parting shot, she spun about again to leave.
    “You’ve forgotten your shoes.”
    She stopped, felt the cool floor on her toes through her stockings, and grimaced. Damn and blast. She didn’t remember even taking them off. Wiping her face void of any expression, she straightened her shoulders, turned about, again, and did her utmost to retain a regal appearance as she scanned the room for her misplaced footwear.
    “Far side of the chair,” Connor said easily. “Why did you take them off?”
    It was a habit she developed years ago to keep her penchant for pacing from wearing out soles faster than she could afford to have them replaced. But no force in heaven, earth, or hell could have dragged that admission from her lips.
    She crossed the room in silence instead, snatched up her slippers, and began to pull them on where she stood.
    “Did you walk all the way here in those?”
    It wasn’t necessary to look at him to know he was scowling. She could hear it in his voice. She remained stubbornly silent, determined to be done, absolutely finished, conversing with the man.
    “I’ll take you back in my carriage,” he decided.
    Apparently, she wasn’t finished. “No.”
    “I’ll saddle a horse for you—”
    She didn’t know how to ride. “No.”
    “I can’t allow you to walk about—”
    “Allow? You forget, Mr. Brice, you are not my husband.”
    “Not yet.”
    She gave him a withering stare. “Do you really believe I would choose you over Sir Robert? That I would cast aside the affections of a perfect—”
    “Coward?”
    It only added to her anger that the same word had crossed her mind. “ Gentleman . And bind myself to a man who wants me only as a means to render his brother miserable?”
    “Sir Robert is miserable by nature. I would marry you to see him furious. He turns a glorious shade of purple.”
    “This is a jest to you.” Disgusted, she marched out of the room.
    Connor followed. “On the contrary, I take my revenge quite seriously. You ought to consider doing the same.” He stepped in front of her and grinned. “Marry me, Adelaide. Render my life a living hell.”
    She shoved him aside, threw open the front door, and strode out.
     
    T he moment Adelaide disappeared, Connor let his smile fall. He retrieved a pair of pistols from the drawer of a small