The Rebel Bride by Catherine Coulter

He sounded calm as a clam, almost indifferent, as if he were instructing a student of very backward intellect. Bereft of speech, she narrowed her eyes and looked over his left shoulder. He merely shrugged and looked amused.

“Do allow me to congratulate you on your most unusual performance for Mrs. Drummond Burrell. Unfortunately, you picked quite the wrong person on whom to try your antics. Ah, yes, you hoped to disgrace yourself, didn’t you? Let me tell you, my dear, that the good lady finally met someone more cold and haughty than herself. A strange coincidence, isn’t it? Ah, yes, let me make something very clear to you. Even if you had managed to enrage the lady and she had sent both of us from Almack’s with loud curses, it wouldn’t have gained you anything. I don’t care if society turns its back on me. All I want is you, and you I will have.”

Kate wondered at that moment if she had been born under an unlucky star. Everything seemed to go awry. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with misery. “Why do you torment me?”

In that moment, he was sorely tempted to throw his masterful stratagem to the winds and comfort her, perhaps even to plead his case with her again. But he caught himself, realizing that it would be a fatal mistake.

“What would you, Kate? Shall I languish at your feet like that fool Bleddoes? Let you treat me as you would a fractious puppy?” He shook his head, his strong white teeth flashing. “Oh no, my dear, it’s a strong hand you need, and I’m the only one to suit you.”

“I will surely make you sorry for this.”

He merely arched an elegant brow and whirled her faster and faster until she was panting for breath.

When at last the interminable waltz ended, Kate looked up to see herself being regarded with shy admiration by a young man clad in colorful regimentals. He reminded her of Harry. She smiled most beguilingly at the young man and watched him begin a hopeful approach.

“Another Bleddoes, Kate. I pray that you don’t break his heart to spite me.” He enthusiastically waved the young man forward.

The young man said shyly, “If you don’t mind, my lord, may I dance with Miss Brandon?”

“Not at all. My betrothed is very much taken with young men in uniform, as her brother is shortly to join the cavalry.”

“I believe, sir, that it is from me you should seek your permission.”

“Don’t lead him a merry dance,” Julien said, as Kate took firm hold of the young man’s arm and led him away.

He stood quietly for a moment as he watched her look with the most appealing expression at her young gallant. She was flirting outrageously to spite him. His mouth curved into a rueful smile. He could not imagine ever being bored by this one girl who had managed to capture every feeling inside him, even creating new feelings he’d never known before, and he knew that there would never be another woman for him, ever.

“So that’s the dashed girl you’re going to marry, eh, Julien?”

Julien turned to see his aunt, Lady Mary Tolford, standing at his elbow.

“Good evening, Aunt. You look charming tonight. Yes, that is Miss Katharine Brandon. Have you ever seen a more beautiful girl?”

“Well, I’ll say this for you, Julien. Your taste in women, like that of your grandfather, is impeccable. Yes, my boy, certainly she’s pleasant to look at, but you know, the girl doesn’t look much of a breeder to me. Far too slender. Look at those long legs, like a boy’s. Now her hips, it’s difficult to tell. What do you think? Will she give you as many children as you wish?”

He looked down at her. “Surely you know you’re shocking me, Auntie. I’m not even married, and you’re contemplating the room necessary for my betrothed to carry a child. Good Lord, you’re already planning to fill my nursery with future earls.”

Lady Mary tapped her fan on his sleeve. “The St. Clairs are a long, proud line, Julien. You’ve picked a lady of quality, no doubt about that, but there are heirs too, my boy. It’s your duty, and about time, too, I might add.”