The Seduction (43 page)

"Yes," he said. He did not sound happy. "I know."

"But you don't love her, do you?"

"I'm quite fond of her," Trevor answered. "But love her? No. Edward, you know how I feel about that emotion."

Margaret closed her eyes, raw pain ripping through her. She thought of all the times she had told him she loved him, but it wasn't until this moment that she realized he had never said those words to her. Not once. He was fond of her.

How stupid she had been.

"When I agreed to help you win her," Edward said, "I'd hoped—"

"Hoped what?" Trevor countered harshly. "That love would transform me? Make a new man of me? Lead me to mend my wicked ways?"

"Something like that."

"I don't believe in fairy tales!" Trevor said so savagely that Margaret took a step back from the door. "And Margaret has to stop believing in them, too. She has my name and position," he went on. "She has security and respectability. She'll soon have children to occupy her attention. She won't have to worry that I'll gamble away the money, or drink myself into a stupor every night, or shame her with blatant affairs. I'll be faithful to her as long as she is faithful to me. I'll be a good husband to her, and I'll try to make her happy. What more can a woman expect of marriage?"

Margaret choked back the hysterical laughter that rose in her throat. So he intended to be a good husband to her, did he? How noble of him.

The whole thing had been a farce, a string of lies from start to finish—the seduction, the kidnapping, the rescue, the wedding vows. She thought of last night, of how she had told him she loved him, over and over, while he touched her, while he made love to her.

Made love to her. Another lie.

What a fool she must have looked. A starry-eyed, gullible fool. How he must have been laughing at her romantic, school-girl notions, at how easily he had manipulated her. She wanted to run, she wanted to clamp her hands over her ears so she could hear no more, she wanted to die.

"Don't worry, Edward," Trevor said. "I'll take care of Maggie. Everything has worked out quite well. Margaret is happy, Henry is happy, Ashton Park is saved, and the creditors will be off my back."

Her pain dissolved into sparks of fury at those words. Her money. It always came back to that. She took a deep breath, then leaned her shoulder against the door and pushed it wide. "Another British peer saved from bankruptcy," she said in a shaking voice. "God bless America."

The two men glanced up to find her standing there. Simultaneously, they set down their teacups and rose. Edward stared at her for a moment, red-faced, then turned his face away. Trevor did not. He simply looked at her, his handsome face hard and unreadable.

"Maggie," he said and even had the gall to look her in the eye. "I thought you'd gone to tea at Lady
Longford's
."

"I changed my mind." Her grip tightened around the packages in her arms. "If the two of you are finished congratulating each other on your cleverness, I would like to speak to you privately, Ashton." She looked at Edward. "Leave us, please."

Edward glanced from one to the other and hastily started for the door. "Certainly," he murmured. He walked past Margaret and departed, closing the door behind him.

For several seconds, they stared at each other without speaking. As the silence lengthened, Margaret began to shake, the anger and pain inside her building until she thought she would explode.

Trevor began walking toward her, slowly, as if he were approaching a wounded animal. How appropriate, she thought wildly. That was exactly how she felt. She wanted to slash at him with claws and teeth, make him bleed as she was bleeding.

He halted in front of her. "Maggie—"

"You bastard." Her voice shook from the effort to remain in control. She dropped the packages at his feet. With her arms free, she could no longer contain her rage. Without thinking, she slapped him across the face.

He didn't move. He didn't react. He simply looked back at her with his calm, inscrutable expression and said nothing. That only infuriated her more.

"You manipulative, lying bastard." She lifted her hand to strike again, but he caught her wrist.

A glitter of danger flickered in his blue eyes, the only indication he felt anything at all. But his voice was surprisingly gentle. "I never lied to you."

Outraged that he had the gall to say that after everything she'd overheard, Margaret jerked free of his hold and took a step back. "You deliberately developed an acquaintance with me because you wanted my money. Do you deny it?"

"No. And you knew it perfectly well. You hurled that accusation in my face more than once. But you also wanted things from me, Maggie. You wanted excitement, you wanted adventure." He reached out, running one finger down her cheek and across her lips. "You wanted kisses, did you not?"

She turned her face away from his touch. "You said you desired me, when all along it was only my money you wanted."

"If I did not desire you, I would never have seduced you or married you, your money be damned."

Another lie. She could feel all the love she had for him changing to something black and cold, something akin to hatred. "You knew I did not want to marry a man who does not love me!" she cried, lifting her chin to look at him with all the pain and loathing she felt. "You don't love me, but you made me believe that you did so I would marry you."

His eyes shifted away from her. For the first time, he looked somewhat guilty. As if he realized it, he turned and walked away. Halting beside the fireplace, he turned on her. "What are you saying?" he demanded. "Are you saying that now I am condemned because I sought a more honorable relationship with you than simple seduction? Forgive me, madam, if I fail to see the crime in wanting you for a wife instead of a mistress."

"How dare you even mention honor in connection with what you've done! You arranged for friends of yours to kidnap me!" Even though she had overheard his conversation with Edward, even as she said the words now, she could still hardly believe he had done such a thing. "I was bound, blindfolded, and gagged,
not to mention terrified! I was scared to death Emilio and his men were going to kill me or, or worse. And you put me through that just so you could rescue me and play the part of my knight in shining armor?"

"No. I did it because once you had discovered my intention to marry you, you wouldn't even speak to me, and I knew that if I didn't get you alone, force you to spend time with me, you would never give me a chance to win you."

"And you would never get your hands on my money."

"For God's sake, Maggie, stop throwing the money in my face!" he shouted. "What do you think I wanted it for? Do you think I wanted it for silk waistcoats and gambling funds and expensive mistresses? My worthless brother put our family estate in debt to the tune of two hundred thousand pounds, a sum I could never repay. His creditors were about to foreclose on Ashton Park, my mother and grandmother would have been without a home, and I would have lost the only thing I've ever cared about in my life, the only opportunity I've ever had to build a future for myself. When you are about to see your family turned out and your home taken away, then come and give me a lecture on morality."

She refused to listen to any excuses. "And you think that justifies what you did? Manipulating me? Lying to me?"

"As I said before, I never lied to you. I admit, there were certain things I did not tell you, but what I did tell you was the absolute truth."

"Lies of omission are still lies! You deliberately made me believe certain things."

"You believed what you wanted to believe."

She felt as if she'd been struck. Her hands curled
into fists. "And you conveniently failed to mention any fact that might lead me to believe anything other than what
you
wanted me to believe. You used me. You manipulated me every step of the way." She turned and gave the smaller package at her feet a hard kick that sent it skittering toward the wall. "I loved you! Can you understand that?"

She could feel the tears coming, and she squeezed her eyes shut. She clenched her fists so tightly her nails dug into her palms. "Of course you can't, since you don't believe in love, have never felt love, are in fact, incapable of love."

She opened her eyes and turned to look him in the face, but he was a blur by the fireplace. She blinked to keep the tears at bay and clung to her pride. She lifted her chin, and all the contempt that could come from love betrayed was in her voice when she said, "You once accused me of never considering the consequences of my actions. But it is you who does not consider consequences. You have only the most selfish disdain for my feelings. I loved you, which is exactly what you wanted. You deliberately set out to make me fall in love with you so that I would marry you, deliberately made me believe that you cared for me when you did not, and had no regard for how I might be hurt in the process. Well, Lord Ashton, your beloved estate is saved and you now have all the money you could wish for. I hope you choke on it."

She kicked the longer package and sent it sliding across the carpet until it hit his feet. "Your wedding present, darling. I bought it for you because I knew you would like it. I didn't realize at the time that it's the perfect gift for a fortune hunter—a fishing rod. Just the thing for hooking yourself an heiress. Perhaps
you might mount it over the drawing room fireplace at Ashton Park as a trophy of your splendid conquest."

She turned and walked out. There was nothing more to say.

Trevor heard the door slam
behind her with all the force of a rifle shot. He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, then looked down at the long, tissue wrapped box that lay at his feet.

I bought it for you because I knew you would like it.

A vague feeling stirred inside him, something like the first chilly breeze of autumn, something that made him uncomfortable, something that might be remorse.

I loved you.

He picked up the package, staring at the froth of blue ribbons that adorned it, trying not to hear her voice, a voice that had cried out her passion for him only the night before, but which had just flayed him with scorn. He tried not to picture her eyes, eyes that had been warm and soft in this morning's light, but which had just stared him down with bitterness, regret, and contempt.

You don't believe in love, have never felt love, are incapable of love.

With a curse a sailor might have been proud of, he dropped the gift and walked over to the liquor cabinet. He poured himself a glass of Henry's much-loved Kentucky bourbon. Foolish, romantic girl, when would she grow up? When would she stop believing in fairy tales?

Trevor lifted his glass, staring at the golden brown liquid within, the color an exact match for Maggie's eyes. He pushed away that fanciful imagining and swallowed the liquor in one draught, then grabbed the bottle and sank into one of the leather chairs that faced the fireplace.