his unsettling
proposal. Even his behavior upstairs in his room made sense. He had become
angry because she was looking at him—and rightly!—as a hired man when he
believed himself to be so much more. Her friggin' future husband!
Susanna's anger whirled inside her like a brewing
tempest that was becoming ever more difficult to contain.
The nervy, conniving, opportunistic bastard! He truly
expected her to agree to his proposal just as Camille might have accepted it if
she had been faced with such an argument. Her dear, meek, obedient Camille
would have done anything her father wanted, she loved him so much. If she had
believed Adam's story, she probably would have become Mrs. Thornton. And to
think Camille had thought of Adam as the perfect husband for her!
But Camille wasn't here, God keep her, and neither was
James Cary. Only Susanna. And she didn't believe Adam for a bloody minute. Mr.
Cary might have treated him well, even liked him as Corliss had claimed, but
surely not enough to grant Adam his daughter's hand in marriage. It was all a
lie, a grand scheme concocted by a very ambitious man with nothing to lose and
everything to gain: Briarwood.
There had to be some way she could stall him, Susanna
thought, her mind working fast. Some way to make him think she was seriously
considering his suit until she could find a proper husband. She couldn't say no
outright. Adam would leave Briarwood, and she would have no one to manage the
plantation. Perhaps if she could make him understand that she wanted a proper
wooing of several months, as any gently bred young woman might, it would buy
her some time . . .
"Camille."
Susanna met Adam's restless gaze. "I'm sorry, Mr.
Thornton. As you said, this is all so . . . sudden."
"Adam. Call me Adam."
She offered him a smile, and was rewarded when the
flicker of doubt in his eyes was replaced by renewed confidence. She had
expected his reaction, but it made her all the angrier. It was a good thing he
was still holding her hands; otherwise she would have slapped him!
"Very well. Adam."
His name was barely off her lips when he leaned toward
her and for a fleeting instant, her heart pounding, Susanna thought he was
going to kiss her. When he didn't, she actually felt disappointed, but she
quickly regained her composure as his expression became intense, his gaze
searching.
She was damned and determined to deceive him, which,
now that she thought about it might even be fun. Why not lead him on with all
her other suitors until she settled upon her choice, then send him crashing
back down to earth when she finally told him the truth? He deserved nothing
less!
"Since you haven't denied me, I take it that you
accept my wish to court you."
Holding his breath, Adam thought he might burst as he
scrutinized her face for signs of her decision. He had had a slight scare when
she didn't answer him for so long, but he should have known a shy mouse like
Camille would be initially taken aback by such an ardent proposal. He gazed
into her beautiful green eyes, wondering anew how a woman so damnably lovely
could be so retiring, meanwhile inwardly cursing that still she did not answer
him
"Yes, I accept . . . but . . ."
Adam's heady exultation, instantaneous and
overwhelming, was just as suddenly checked by her last word.
"What is it, Camille?" he urged, trying to
keep his agitation from his voice. "Tell me what you're thinking."
She chewed her bottom lip before answering hesitantly,
"It's just that I've never been courted before, Mr. Thorn—Adam. It's . . .
well, it's what every girl dreams about . . . a proper courting, I mean."
Adam was momentarily stumped. He had no idea what she
was trying to say.
"A proper courting?"
Nodding, she glanced up at him through lashes he
imagined would feel like the soft flutter of feathers upon his skin.
"There's no need for us to rush, is there, Adam?
You seem in such a hurry, yet from what I know, a proper courting takes time. A
man must woo a woman
proposal. Even his behavior upstairs in his room made sense. He had become
angry because she was looking at him—and rightly!—as a hired man when he
believed himself to be so much more. Her friggin' future husband!
Susanna's anger whirled inside her like a brewing
tempest that was becoming ever more difficult to contain.
The nervy, conniving, opportunistic bastard! He truly
expected her to agree to his proposal just as Camille might have accepted it if
she had been faced with such an argument. Her dear, meek, obedient Camille
would have done anything her father wanted, she loved him so much. If she had
believed Adam's story, she probably would have become Mrs. Thornton. And to
think Camille had thought of Adam as the perfect husband for her!
But Camille wasn't here, God keep her, and neither was
James Cary. Only Susanna. And she didn't believe Adam for a bloody minute. Mr.
Cary might have treated him well, even liked him as Corliss had claimed, but
surely not enough to grant Adam his daughter's hand in marriage. It was all a
lie, a grand scheme concocted by a very ambitious man with nothing to lose and
everything to gain: Briarwood.
There had to be some way she could stall him, Susanna
thought, her mind working fast. Some way to make him think she was seriously
considering his suit until she could find a proper husband. She couldn't say no
outright. Adam would leave Briarwood, and she would have no one to manage the
plantation. Perhaps if she could make him understand that she wanted a proper
wooing of several months, as any gently bred young woman might, it would buy
her some time . . .
"Camille."
Susanna met Adam's restless gaze. "I'm sorry, Mr.
Thornton. As you said, this is all so . . . sudden."
"Adam. Call me Adam."
She offered him a smile, and was rewarded when the
flicker of doubt in his eyes was replaced by renewed confidence. She had
expected his reaction, but it made her all the angrier. It was a good thing he
was still holding her hands; otherwise she would have slapped him!
"Very well. Adam."
His name was barely off her lips when he leaned toward
her and for a fleeting instant, her heart pounding, Susanna thought he was
going to kiss her. When he didn't, she actually felt disappointed, but she
quickly regained her composure as his expression became intense, his gaze
searching.
She was damned and determined to deceive him, which,
now that she thought about it might even be fun. Why not lead him on with all
her other suitors until she settled upon her choice, then send him crashing
back down to earth when she finally told him the truth? He deserved nothing
less!
"Since you haven't denied me, I take it that you
accept my wish to court you."
Holding his breath, Adam thought he might burst as he
scrutinized her face for signs of her decision. He had had a slight scare when
she didn't answer him for so long, but he should have known a shy mouse like
Camille would be initially taken aback by such an ardent proposal. He gazed
into her beautiful green eyes, wondering anew how a woman so damnably lovely
could be so retiring, meanwhile inwardly cursing that still she did not answer
him
"Yes, I accept . . . but . . ."
Adam's heady exultation, instantaneous and
overwhelming, was just as suddenly checked by her last word.
"What is it, Camille?" he urged, trying to
keep his agitation from his voice. "Tell me what you're thinking."
She chewed her bottom lip before answering hesitantly,
"It's just that I've never been courted before, Mr. Thorn—Adam. It's . . .
well, it's what every girl dreams about . . . a proper courting, I mean."
Adam was momentarily stumped. He had no idea what she
was trying to say.
"A proper courting?"
Nodding, she glanced up at him through lashes he
imagined would feel like the soft flutter of feathers upon his skin.
"There's no need for us to rush, is there, Adam?
You seem in such a hurry, yet from what I know, a proper courting takes time. A
man must woo a woman
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