"You're willing to make a great sacrifice on your part in order to scratch a curious itch. Find someone else." She put her hands on his bare chest, resisting the urge to stroke him, and shoved him away.

By now he was angry, affronted, and he fell back. "To hell with you then—do you know how many women would give everything to be in your place?"

"Go find one of them and shag yourself silly. You can't have me." And she yanked open the door and strode out into the hallway, feeling majestic, righteous and furious.

It was probably just as well that she got lost. Her defiant mood could only last so long. By the time she'd taken her third wrong turn, her lower lip was trembling, and when she came to the end of a hallway with no staircase in sight, she simply sank onto the worn carpet, the cover draped around her, and began to cry silently.

The linen was useless for blotting her tears. She lay there in a miserable welter of sorrow, sobbing quietly into her arms, when Lina found her.

She put her arms around her, murmuring soft, comforting things, helping her to her feet, repositioning (he cover around her naked body. "Where are your clothes, dearest?"

"I...in...the...nursery," she said between hiccups. "Don't go there. He's in a rage."

"'He doesn't know the meaning of the word rage" Lina said darkly. "Did he hurt you?"

Charlotte shook her head. "No."

Lina knew the halls as well as Adrian had. Within minutes she'd brought Charlotte back to her rooms, Meggie bustling around her, making clucking noises as she helped her bathe. "He certainly marked you, that one," she said. "I hope you did the same to him."

Charlotte closed her eyes, refusing to think about it. Refusing to think about the bite mark on his shoulder, the scratches on his back.

“Don't worry, sweeting," Lina said. "He'll marry you, make no doubt about that. If he thinks he can get away with this without offering for you..."

"He did offer for me. I told him no."

Lina's astonishment mirrored Adrian's, and Charlotte's ire began to rise again. "Why does everyone assume I should be grateful for the tidbits of attention he's tossing me?" she demanded. "I don't want a cold-b1ooded marriage of short-term lust and long term politeness.”

“It doesn't have to be that way," Lina protested.

"Yes, it does. That's what he's offering me. He was quite astounded that I would refuse such a magnanimous offer. He probably thought I would be struck dumb with gratitude. Well, I'm not grateful. I'd rather spend my life a fallen woman. I'd rather marry a ragpicker and live in the stews of London than marry that...that arrogant pig bladder."

Lina was sitting on the bed beside her, a troubled expression on her face. "Charlotte, you have to marry him. I think you might be increasing."

Charlotte looked at her blankly, the words making no sense. And then the meaning was clear. "No," she said flatly. She thought about it a moment. "Absolutely no." The strange sense of lassitude and energy, the feeling of fullness and growth. "I can't be."

"Meggie says you haven't had your monthly courses. Just a few drops of blood, and that's often a sign of pregnancy. You've been tired all the time, sick in the morning, the smell of bacon makes you ill when you used to eat it by the pound. We won't know for sure, but you have all the signs. You have to marry him"

"No," she said stubbornly. "That just makes me even more convinced. I'm not going to bring a child into the world and give him a...a...jackass like Adrian for a father."

"You want to bring a bastard into the world?" "We can raise her together. That is, unless you're sending me away for gross immorality."

Lina's laugh sounded suspiciously close to tears. "No, darling, I'm not. And if you don't want Adrian then you don't have to have him. We'll figure something out. Go away to the continent, or out to the country during your confinement. No one need ever know.”

"I'm not giving the child up," she said.

"We'll tell everyone the baby was an orphan we've taken into our home. Don't worry, darling, it will be—"

Her bedroom door slammed open, and Adrian was standing there, fully dressed, vibrating in rage. "You didn't think it worthwhile informing me that you're pregnant?" he roared.

Charlotte stiffened, her own "Where did you get that idea?"

"From Monty. He wants to know you won’t marry me as well.”

“Because I don’t love you.”

It was the wrong thing to say, but she was goaded. He looked at her in complete astonishment, and then laughed. "Why in the world would you think love has anything to do with what's between us? It's healthy lust that we ought to enjoy as long as it lasts, and then—"

"That's enough," Lina broke in hastily. "I believe you've put your foot in your mouth enough for one day. Why don't you go back down and chew on it for a while. Charlotte needs her rest If she is increasing, and we're not even sure of that, then we need to take extra-special care of her."

Adrian's eyes narrowed. "You told me you've been entertaining gentlemen nonstop since you arrived back in London. What makes you think the child is mine?”

Meggie had just set the tea tray down in her lap, and Charlotte didn't hesitate. She picked up the pot and flung it at him, scalding tea spewing out over the bedroom.

It hit him on the unmarked side of his face, slamming against his cheekbone and breaking. The tea drenched him, but he didn't flinch, even as blood began to trickle down his cheek from the spot where a shard of china had sliced through the skin.

"Be damned to you then," he said, and slammed the door as he went.

For some reason Lina had a half smile on her face, one she quickly wiped away when Charlotte glared at her. "Let me get this straight, dearest. You won't marry him because he doesn't love you, is that it?"

"You heard him. Love has nothing to do with what's between us," she said angrily.

"But we know differently, don't we? You're in love with him. I'm not sure why, but I accept your choice.”

"It's not my choice. He doesn't want me for the right reasons, and I won't take him for the wrong ones." She could feel the tears welling up again, and she dashed them away. “And why am I crying all the time? I never used to be so pathetic."

"Another sign of pregnancy, Miss Charlotte," Meggie said in her practical voice. "Anytime me mum got knocked up she'd start bawling all over the place. I used to think it was just because she didn't want another bastard clinging to her, but she told me no, it came with the baby. You're pregnant."

Enough was enough. Charlotte stopped fighting it. She burst into tears, flinging herself face down on the bed. And it wasn't until later that she realized that Lina had quietly slipped out.

Adrian made it as far as the stables. He spun on his heel and turned back. He was making a habit of this, he thought wryly. She really did have the ability to make him insane.

He was damned if a child of his was going to be born a bastard. She didn't like it-she could damn well make the best of it. The best of a title, a fortune, belter sex than she'd ever find in her life. There were worse fates for an overtall spinster with red hair and freckles. He didn't care what she wanted or didn't want.

Except that he loved her rich, coppery hair. He loved her creamy skin and the flecks of gold that danced across it in the most deliciously unexpected places. He hadn't gotten around to discovering all those places, and he was never a man to leave a job only partly done.

And what if she wasn't pregnant? He thought, strolling back into the house as if his very future weren't at stake. Then he'd do his best to ensure she soon would be. He wanted her to be pregnant, he realized with a sense of shock. Wanted her to be carrying his baby. The thought of her, round and waddling, heavy with child, filled him with an odd sense of what might almost be called delight. Not that he would go that far. But his father would probably appreciate an heir if she had a boy, and his mother worried about him incessantly. If he were married she might calm down a little.

Of course his mother wanted him to fall in love. He could lie to her, though she tended to see through his prevarications even more quickly than his father did. But he imagined he could do a pretty good approximation of a man besotted. The kind of man who'd wake his godfather up in the middle of the night, demanding a special license. The kind of man who'd then jump on a horse and ride all night after her, ignoring the fact that he'd just been bashed in the head and leg and couldn't walk without limping. The kind of man who'd drag a woman off and shag her senseless in the middle of the day in an abandoned nursery.

The kind of man who wouldn't admit how much he needed her.

Simon Pagett was coming out the front door just as Adrian was about to enter. He had a troubled expression on his face, and when he spied Adrian he didn't look particularly pleased.

"You really are a vicar?" Adrian demanded abruptly.

“No, I wear the collar because it limits my fashion choices," he replied icily. "What do you want, Rohan?"

Adrian reached in his pocket and pulled out the crumpled license, handing it to him. Pagett frowned, looking it over. "How did you manage this?" he said finally.

“He's my godfather."

"It's dated today."

"I know when it's dated, man," Rohan said irritably. "I went and woke the old man up right after you left me. He wasn't best pleased with me—I'm not expecting much of a wedding present."

Pagett surveyed him for a long moment. "I didn't realize you knew she was pregnant."

"Bloody hell, did everyone know she was pregnant but me?" he exploded.

"If you didn't know she was pregnant why did you get the special license?"

Adrian said nothing.