they were alone, Alex raised one brow in arrogant inquiry, knowing she had heard his remark and unprepared to refute it—which was no consolation for Angelina. Why did he adopt this cold, remote, almost hostile attitude to her? Was it possible he was ashamed of the way he had behaved towards her, or was his hunger for her so great that he couldn’t bear to be close to her? She hoped it was the latter, but the way he was looking at her made her discount it. Her eyes met his proudly.
‘So! You really think that, do you, Alex? That as soon as the rakes and fops in London begin paying me attention and whispering sweet nonsense in my ear, I am so silly and weak that I will be unable to resist them and reverse my decision not to wed?’
‘Why not?’ His mouth curled with irony. ‘You were eager enough to yield to me when I held you in my arms.’
His cutting tone and the injustice of his words increased Angelina’s anger. But it was the way he retained his arrogant superiority that was hard for her to take. ‘I don’t know why you are being deliberately cruel to me, Alex, but as I recall, you gave me little choice. I did not invite you to kiss me. In fact, if you will cast your mind back, you will recall that I begged you not to.’
‘I admit that I behaved in a manner for which I am ashamed and regretful,’ he said, his voice curt, thinking when he looked at her how hard it was going to be sending her away.
‘You? Ashamed? Are you quite sure you know the meaning of the word?’ she scoffed. Drawing herself up proudly, she showed him that she too could be hard and cold. He would never know how much he had hurt her. ‘And if Uncle Henry really wanted me off his hands, he would not have encumbered himself with me in the first place. He is warm and generous—unlike you, a man whose heart is encased in ice.’
Angelina expected the words she flung at him to get a reaction, but, except for a glacial hardening of his eyes and a muscle that began to twitch in his jaw, there was none.
‘Do you mind telling why you are dismissing me as though I were an untouchable?’ she asked. She knew the answer, but wanted to hear him say it. ‘What have I done that makes you treat me so despicably?’
Everything, Alex thought wretchedly. She was too much of a threat to his sanity. He couldn’t live in the same house with her any longer if he was to have any peace. Everywhere he turned she seemed to be there, ready to ensnare him, and when she was absent his need to see her made him seek her out. He was furious with himself for feeling like this—for wanting her. He’d never realised that sexual desire for her would become a complication. Better that she was away from him altogether, before she disrupted his whole life.
‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘At least, not intentionally. You will stay with Aunt Patience until Uncle Henry gets back from Cornwall. Now you have decided to be launched into society, you can begin preparing for it. According to Verity it’s time consuming, so you cannot begin too soon.’
Angelina could hear the absolute finality in his voice that told her it would be futile to argue. ‘Then there is nothing more to be said. I thank you for your hospitality, Alex,’ she said with the polite cordiality of one of his guests who had just departed. ‘I have enjoyed my stay at Arlington, and I am now ready to return to London.’ Her words were of resignation, not defiance.
Suddenly Alex looked at her with unexpected softness. Surprised by the change in his expression, she opened her mouth to speak, but he stopped her and, taking a deep breath, continued, ‘You have to go, Angelina. You must. I want you to go. There are some things you cannot understand.’
Angelina’s face was a pale, emotionless mask as she turned from him and crossed to the door. Her heart and mind felt empty, and she was chilled to the marrow, and even now, when she was desperate with the thought of leaving him, she had to ask herself why it should hurt so much, and to question what was in her heart.
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