‘At least we are saved the trouble of travelling to Gretna,’ Sally said, sighing. ‘I might have known that we would be too late.’ She shook her head slightly. ‘It always was too late to talk sense into Connie. She always did do exactly want she wanted.’
‘And now,’ Jack said, ‘they are married—’
‘Thereby removing the necessity for us to be engaged,’ Sally said. This, she thought, was the end between them, and it had come sooner than she had thought. ‘I think I shall go back to London,’ she said. She looked at him. ‘If you would be so good as to convey me to the nearest station, Mr Kestrel? I think it is the least that you could do under the circumstances.’
Jack did not answer immediately. ‘I am not really minded to let you go so easily,’ he said.
Sally stared at him, her thoughts in a sudden spin. ‘Whatever do you mean by that?’ she demanded.
‘Exactly what I say.’ Jack sounded maddeningly arrogant. ‘I wish to keep you here at Dauntsey with me as my fiancée.’
‘Well,’ Sally said, her temper flaring abruptly again at this further display of high-handedness, ‘I do not think that you are in a position to make any further demands upon me, Mr Kestrel.’
‘I accept that you have a right to be angry with me—’ Jack conceded, but Sally did not let him finish. It felt good to let all her indignation and anger and pain at last have free rein.
‘Oh, you accept that, do you?’ she said. She put her hands on her hips. ‘You drag me here on what turns out to be a wild goose chase, you insult me by suggesting I am in league with my sister to fleece your family, you calmly announce that we are engaged, and you think I have a right to be angry with you! Well, thank you for that!’
‘I have said that the fleecing accusation was a mistake,’ Jack said. Infuriatingly, he looked amused rather than annoyed at her show of temper and Sally realised with a sudden pang that it was because he was still supremely confident, still utterly sure that he could persuade her to his point of view. She wished desperately that she were not so vulnerable to him. But she was strong too. She had no intention of succumbing to his practised charm ever again, not when it was accompanied by no deep emotion.
‘It is handsome of you to admit it,’ she said, her eyes flashing. ‘You can trust your own judgement, but you cannot trust my word! And what did your “evidence” amount to anyway? Some trumped-up report from your lawyer? You did not even give me a chance to defend myself!’
‘No,’ Jack said slowly, ‘I did not.’
Sally’s temper flickered again. She warmed to her theme. ‘You have been intolerably rude to me, you tried to break the bank at my casino, you threatened to destroy my business, you seduced me—’
‘Please, Sally …’ Jack put out a hand towards her as a nervous-looking gardener’s boy came through the trees pushing a wheelbarrow and went swiftly into reverse on hearing the word ‘seduced’.
‘And now you decide that you are not minded to let me go!’ Sally finished. ‘You are intolerable!’
‘Given the disparity in our experience, as a gentleman I must take responsibility for what has happened between us,’ Jack said. ‘Therefore you remain as my fiancée.’
‘Oh, no, I don’t!’ Sally said furiously. ‘Just because you have exonerated me of blame you do not need to take responsibility for my actions! I knew what I was doing even if—’ She stopped, embarrassed, as the heated memories swamped her mind again.
‘Even if you were a virgin,’ Jack said softly. ‘Which we both know that you were.’ He took her hand and drew her into the shelter of one of the trees. His touch was warm and insistent. She could feel her resistance to him melting and tried desperately not to weaken. He was standing close to her and she could smell the fresh scent of his cologne. She felt a little light-headed.
‘I … This …’ Sally struggled to regain her self-control. ‘This is nothing to the purpose,’ she said. ‘The point is that now Connie and Bertie are married we no longer need to pretend to be engaged and, as I said, I would like to go back to London.’
‘I cannot allow it,’ Jack said, with every appearance of regret. ‘I want you to stay here with me.’
Sally stared at him. ‘You want me to stay here? Just what is it that you are suggesting, Mr Kestrel?’
‘I am proposing marriage.’ Jack thrust his hands moodily into his pockets. ‘I dislike the idea of your silly little sister having precedence over you just because she is married and you are not.’
Despite herself, Sally laughed. ‘A lamentably bad reason for marriage, Mr Kestrel. I assure you that even if Connie insists on entering every drawing room in London before me, which no doubt she shall, I can still deal with her.’ She shook her head. ‘And I have to say that that is without a doubt the worst proposal of marriage that I have every heard.’
‘No doubt you have heard a few.’ Now Jack sounded even more bad-tempered.
‘Certainly enough to know that yours was extraordinarily inept.’
‘I suppose that Gregory Holt was more proficient?’
‘He said some very pretty things,’ Sally conceded, ‘but I still refused him. As I do you, Mr Kestrel. The idea is absurd.’
‘If we call off our engagement now, Aunt Ottoline will be extremely disappointed,’ Jack said.
Sally raised her brows. She found that in spite of everything, she was starting to enjoy this litany of the worst possible reasons to wed. ‘Another poor basis for marriage,’ she said. ‘I like your aunt, but I am not tying the knot with you simply to oblige her.’
‘If you go now, I will sue you for breach of contract.’
‘That,’ Sally said ruefully, ‘sounds much more like you, Mr Kestrel.’
Jack smiled at her. ‘Have you noticed,’ he said conversationally, ‘that when you are trying to keep me at arm’s length, you always call me Mr Kestrel?’
Sally’s heart skipped a beat at the intimacy of his tone. ‘You are at arm’s length,’ she said. ‘You are practically a stranger to me.’
‘Rubbish.’ Jack straightened. ‘You have met my family. You have slept with me.’
‘Yet another bad reason for marriage.’
Jack took her hand and pulled her to him. ‘Sally,’ he said, ‘we were both a little carried away these past two nights, and as a result I have a need to protect you and your reputation—’
‘Nonsense!’ Sally said. She spoke abruptly to quell the little quiver of feeling that his words aroused in her. ‘I can look after myself.’ She took a deep breath. ‘You said it yourself, Mr Kestrel. I am a widow, I was almost a divorcée, I own a nightclub, and I have a scandalous reputation already. It was one of the reasons why you—’ She stopped.
‘Why I took you to bed,’ Jack said helpfully.
The gardener’s boy, who had stuck his head around the tree again to see if the coast was clear, disappeared with a strangled squeak.
The colour flooded Sally’s face. ‘You thought me experienced,’ she whispered.
‘I did. And now I know you are not. So—’
‘No,’ Sally said, before he could finish. ‘No one knows what happened. No one will know, least of all your strait-laced great-aunt. And even if they did, my reputation, such as it is, could stand it. It is the height of hypocrisy only to propose when you have it proved to you that I am virtuous.’
‘Could your reputation stand having a child out of wedlock?’ Jack asked softly.
Sally caught her breath. It