A muscle jumped at the corner of his mouth, and she knew the hard, but not unintelligent, Lord Rutland knew exactly was she said, knew she spoke of the jealous rage that had blinded him all these years. He cursed. “You won’t wed him?” he asked, at last.
She shook her head. “I won’t.” What had he expected? That she would have some sage words to ease the heartache he’d known.
“You’ll be ruined,” Rutland shot back.
Anne lifted her shoulders in a little shrug. “Yes.” She paused. “But only if you allow it.”
As though unsettled by her accusatory stare, he strolled to the edge of Jasper’s wide, mahogany desk. He propped his hip at the edge and continued to study her through thick, hooded lashes. Which was of course, madness. Ruthless Lord Rutland wasn’t unsettled by anyone or anything.
She walked toward him, coming to a stop at the leather winged-back chair. “You’ll have your Margaret at any cost.” Anne passed a searching gaze over his face, seeking a hint of warmth, some emotion other than this immobile mask. “Only, what you’ll find is what I already know. She’ll not love you for what you’ve done. She’ll resent you because you’ve robbed her of her heart’s happiness.” Anne had witnessed the unadulterated love and longing in the other woman’s eyes. She took another. “You’ll inevitably make a decision to ruin me to advance your own gains.” She tipped her chin back. “But know this, my lord. You’ll not have Margaret at the expense of mine,” and more importantly, “and Lord Stanhope’s happiness.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You would…” Would. Not— will. “… be cast out of Society, shunned by your friends and family. You’d sacrifice all that?”
“I would,” she said, her answer automatic. “When you love someone,” as she loved Harry, “you’ll sacrifice anything, even your own happiness, if that brings them true happiness.” She glanced at the toes of her slippers, suddenly reminded of how very inadequate she’d always been with words. “If I were my sister, Aldora,” she said softly. “Perhaps I would be more eloquent.” Certainly enough to not mention happiness twice in the same sentence. “Or if I was my sister, Katherine, I could speak to you with logic and clear reason, deterring you from your goals.” She shrugged. “All I can do is appeal to the man you surely once were before your Lady Margaret.”
Silence blanketed the room. He said nothing for so long she suspected he might simply stride from the room and close the door behind him, her words forgotten. “I was never a good man,” he said at last, his words flat and emotionless.
“I don’t believe that,” she said quietly.
“You believe wrong, then.”
Anne passed the spectacles back and forth between her hands. “Well, then. There is nothing else I can say.” Now her mother would know the truth, the truth her family had been good enough to keep from the over-dramatic countess until this particular meeting. She stuck her fingers out, the gesture so very reminiscent of her first meeting with Harry.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m thanking you for having come and at least considered my request. You’ll do what you think is best.”
“And you think my decision is a poor one,” he tossed back, ignoring her hand.
She let her fingers fall to her side. “Undoubtedly.”
The marquess caught his square jaw between his thumb and forefinger. He rubbed his chin contemplatively. Then stopped, suddenly and cursed. He shoved off the desk and started for the door.
Her heart pounded wildly and she was filled with an almost physical urge to call out and beg him to change his course. For everyone’s low opinion of her, however, she’d never been called a coward.
He spun around. “Stanhope’s a bloody fool,” he growled.
She cocked her head.
He spoke between gritted teeth. “Your secret is your secret.”
Her heart kicked up a frantic rhythm. “I don’t understand.” She touched a hand to her pounding heart, besieged by hope.
“I’ll not divulge you and Stanhope’s,” he spat out Harry’s name as though spitting out a vile epithet, “secret.”
Anne sank back on her heels under the enormous weight of relief. “Th—”
“Do not thank me,” he snapped.
She closed her mouth.
He turned to the door and then wheeled around to face her yet again. “You are not empty-headed, my lady. Quite the opposite.”