The Countess by Catherine Coulter

truth be told. I would like to take your virginity, but it isn’t meant to be. It

is a pity.”

“Why did you marry me?”

He pulled his chair close to mine and sat down, his arms folded across his chest.

I had no clue what he was thinking, what he was planning, but I knew it wasn’t

good. I needed him to talk. I needed time. John would come, surely. No, he was

with Lady Elizabeth. He had left me. I knew I shouldn’t be surprised, for men

were never honest with women, but I was still devastated that he was gone.

Knowing what he knew of my danger, he had still left.

“You really were quite stupid in your search of my rooms.”

Searching his room? Well, damn. How could he have known? Still, down deep, I

wasn’t surprised that he knew. I watched as he reached into the pocket of his

waistcoat and pulled out a letter, its edges crumpled. He held it up for me to

see. “What happened? You read all my letters, and this particular one really

annoyed you, and so you nearly destroyed it? You were not very accomplished in

your searching methods. You couldn’t even manage to smooth out the envelope well

enough for me not to notice. Also, I smelled your scent, light and soft and

really quite distinctive. I breathed in, and I knew you had come into my very

private room.”

I gave him a shrug. “That envelope you’re waving at me?it looks like a very old

letter, my lord, a letter that one would have written a very long time ago,

perhaps a time when even you were young.”

I thought he would strike me, but he didn’t. “Your endless impertinence?you are

arrogant, my girl, but in the end, you proved yourself quite an unworthy

opponent?stupid really. Do you want me to hit you? No, probably not.” He began

folding and refolding that old letter between his long fingers.

I said, “You stole the letter from my father.”

“Oh, yes. Actually it was Flynt. That damned miserable dog of yours nearly took

his leg off. He wanted to kill the little beast, but he couldn’t. I had been

told that you had received a letter. It wasn’t difficult to find. And you, my

dear, know that your father was in London on the eighth of this month.”

“Tell me why you have done this. Tell me what my father has done. Damn you, what

have I done? Is it not my right to know?”

“You have no rights. But, you will find out everything in good time.”

He stood up. “Now, enough of this. I really have no more time to waste on you.”

He paused a moment and looked at the strewn chess pieces on the floor. “I cannot

believe that you managed to win a second game from me.”

“It wasn’t difficult. You play well enough, but your level of play cannot match

mine. Take your attempts at strategy?they are as commonplace as the time worn

strategies the old men use who play in Hyde Park. As for your attempts at logic

and planning, I had but to invite you, and every time you leapt to take my bait.

It is you who are the unworthy opponent.”

He struck me then, hard, his palm flat against my cheek. I didn’t make a sound.

I leapt up at him, brought my knee up, and got him squarely in the groin. He

howled and stumbled back away from me, holding himself, moaning, bent nearly

double. I picked up my skirts and ran. But he was on me, still bent over like an

old man, which he was. He was strong, and he held my arm, twisting it until I

was moaning with the pain of it. I tried to jerk away from him, but each time I

moved, he just twisted my arm higher behind my back. Finally, he was able to

straighten.

“You damned bitch.” He slapped me again, hard, on the other cheek. I would have

slammed against the wall if he hadn’t been holding me up. He jerked me against

him. “Listen to me, you try to hurt me again, and I’ll strangle you, right here,

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