foolish and she laid it on a table next to her.
"Thank you. Come in."
At the invitation, she hesitated. He was grinning as if he were the cat and she the canary, as if she'd cornered him precisely where and when he'd wanted her to.
His room was a mess, with Percy's belongings only half-removed, but Jamieson Merrick had been
determined to spend his first night at Gladstone in the earl's chamber. He'd definitely made himself comfortable. He was sipping on some of Percy's finest whiskey, and he was lounged in a chair by the hearth. Even though it was a warm June evening, a huge fire blazed in the grate.
"What's it to be, Miss Carstairs? In or out?"
"In." She took a few halting steps, but she dawdled, unable to begin with what she'd intended to say.
"Well... ?"
"Today in the woods ... why were you up on the ridge?"
"Why do you think? I was surveying all I own and gloating."
"Why would someone shoot at you?"
"I'm not wanted here."
"But who would do such a thing?"
"Percy. Or some miscreant Percy hired. Aren't you glad he missed?"
"Percy has many faults, but he's not a killer."
Jamie shrugged, indicating that her opinion was irrelevant. "Shut the door."
"I most certainly will not."
"Why? Are you afraid I'll bite?"
"No. I simply refuse to be in here alone with you. I won't have the servants gossiping."
"Who cares if they gossip? We're getting married in a few hours."
"We are not."
"Yes, we are. Shut the door." "No."
"Do you ever do as you're told?" "I'm a perfectly reasonable person—when I'm dealing with reasonable people."
No doubt, he was used to being blindly obeyed. She'd heard the stories, about his daring, about his bravery and treachery. He'd been a ship's captain for many years, but he had no qualms as to who hired him. Supposedly, he worked for the highest bidders, robbing and pillaging on their behalf and taking his share of what was stolen.
Others catered to his whims. They fawned over him and groveled to please, so in dealing with her he was in for a surprise.
She wasn't in awe of him, nor did he frighten her. His attitude was all bluster, meant to intimidate, so he could snipe and bark to no avail. The very worst thing he could do was kick her out of her home, but that's what she'd been expecting to have happen. He had no hold over her; he had no way to coerce her.
He uncurled from his chair, like a cobra about to strike, and he sauntered over but walked right past her. He closed the door himself and spun the key in the lock. She was stunned, and her mouth fell open in dismay.
"Give me that key!"
"No."
He placed it atop the door frame, putting it so far above her that he might have set it on the moon. "Let me out!"
"No," he said again. "Now then, you had something to say to me ... ?"
He leaned back, arms folded over his chest, making it clear that she couldn't leave until he was ready for her to go. Her temper flared.
"Yes, I have something to say. As a matter of fact, there are several topics I'd like to address."
"Where would you like to start?"
There was a twinkle in his eye, a galling sign that he was humored by her, and she grew even more irate.
How dare he laugh at her! How dare he poke fun! Her world was crashing down around her, the only existence she'd ever known destroyed by a few pieces of paper she'd never even seen, and all he could do was snicker and tease.
"I won't marry you."
"Yes, you will. At eleven tomorrow morning."
"Who are you to strut into Gladstone and command me in my private affairs?"
"I am the new earl. And as you are here in my residence, eating my food, and living off my bounty, you'll do as I bid you—and you'll do it gladly."
"I won't do it, I tell you! I won't! I won't!"
"You're acting like a spoiled child."
He was correct. She was carrying on like a toddler having a tantrum, and she took a deep breath, struggling for calm. There had to be a way to make him see reason. She just needed to stumble on it.
"Why on earth would you wed me?" she asked
"Thank you. Come in."
At the invitation, she hesitated. He was grinning as if he were the cat and she the canary, as if she'd cornered him precisely where and when he'd wanted her to.
His room was a mess, with Percy's belongings only half-removed, but Jamieson Merrick had been
determined to spend his first night at Gladstone in the earl's chamber. He'd definitely made himself comfortable. He was sipping on some of Percy's finest whiskey, and he was lounged in a chair by the hearth. Even though it was a warm June evening, a huge fire blazed in the grate.
"What's it to be, Miss Carstairs? In or out?"
"In." She took a few halting steps, but she dawdled, unable to begin with what she'd intended to say.
"Well... ?"
"Today in the woods ... why were you up on the ridge?"
"Why do you think? I was surveying all I own and gloating."
"Why would someone shoot at you?"
"I'm not wanted here."
"But who would do such a thing?"
"Percy. Or some miscreant Percy hired. Aren't you glad he missed?"
"Percy has many faults, but he's not a killer."
Jamie shrugged, indicating that her opinion was irrelevant. "Shut the door."
"I most certainly will not."
"Why? Are you afraid I'll bite?"
"No. I simply refuse to be in here alone with you. I won't have the servants gossiping."
"Who cares if they gossip? We're getting married in a few hours."
"We are not."
"Yes, we are. Shut the door." "No."
"Do you ever do as you're told?" "I'm a perfectly reasonable person—when I'm dealing with reasonable people."
No doubt, he was used to being blindly obeyed. She'd heard the stories, about his daring, about his bravery and treachery. He'd been a ship's captain for many years, but he had no qualms as to who hired him. Supposedly, he worked for the highest bidders, robbing and pillaging on their behalf and taking his share of what was stolen.
Others catered to his whims. They fawned over him and groveled to please, so in dealing with her he was in for a surprise.
She wasn't in awe of him, nor did he frighten her. His attitude was all bluster, meant to intimidate, so he could snipe and bark to no avail. The very worst thing he could do was kick her out of her home, but that's what she'd been expecting to have happen. He had no hold over her; he had no way to coerce her.
He uncurled from his chair, like a cobra about to strike, and he sauntered over but walked right past her. He closed the door himself and spun the key in the lock. She was stunned, and her mouth fell open in dismay.
"Give me that key!"
"No."
He placed it atop the door frame, putting it so far above her that he might have set it on the moon. "Let me out!"
"No," he said again. "Now then, you had something to say to me ... ?"
He leaned back, arms folded over his chest, making it clear that she couldn't leave until he was ready for her to go. Her temper flared.
"Yes, I have something to say. As a matter of fact, there are several topics I'd like to address."
"Where would you like to start?"
There was a twinkle in his eye, a galling sign that he was humored by her, and she grew even more irate.
How dare he laugh at her! How dare he poke fun! Her world was crashing down around her, the only existence she'd ever known destroyed by a few pieces of paper she'd never even seen, and all he could do was snicker and tease.
"I won't marry you."
"Yes, you will. At eleven tomorrow morning."
"Who are you to strut into Gladstone and command me in my private affairs?"
"I am the new earl. And as you are here in my residence, eating my food, and living off my bounty, you'll do as I bid you—and you'll do it gladly."
"I won't do it, I tell you! I won't! I won't!"
"You're acting like a spoiled child."
He was correct. She was carrying on like a toddler having a tantrum, and she took a deep breath, struggling for calm. There had to be a way to make him see reason. She just needed to stumble on it.
"Why on earth would you wed me?" she asked
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