‘No, my lord. I have been too busy…’ She stopped suddenly, remembering her conversation with Charles Mellison.
Encouraged, he went on, ‘I believe Master Mellison told you a little of my situation.’
‘My lord, he would not be so indiscreet.’
He chuckled suddenly. ‘You obviously know how to be discreet yourself, but you need not worry, I am not asking you to betray him; I know my friend very well and I can guess he told you I was looking for a wife.’
‘He did mention it in passing, my lord.’
‘Only in passing? I am persuaded he went out of his way to speak to you about it.’
‘I cannot think why he should do that,’ she murmured.
‘Did he not say we would do very well together, you and I?’
‘My lord!’ she protested.
‘Oh, please do not be alarmed.’ He stopped speaking to offer her warm bread in a cloth-lined basket. She shook her head, and he went on, ‘But he is right about my wanting to marry.’
‘I am sure you could have no trouble finding a suitable wife, my lord,’ she said demurely.
‘As to that, I am not so certain,’ he said. ‘You see, I am very particular and very difficult to live with. In truth, I am impossible.’
‘Surely not,’ she said, because she thought it was expected of her.
Her answer produced a short bark of a laugh. ‘Indeed I am. I am short-tempered, ill-mannered and I am wont to go off by myself for hours at a stretch. And as for making polite conversation…’ He shrugged. ‘Most of the time I find it tedious.’
‘You do not paint a very agreeable picture of yourself, my lord.’
‘I want you to know the truth.’
‘Why?’
‘Because…’ he went on, leaning slightly towards her and making her heart beat in her throat and flooding her face with colour. Surely he was not…? No, she was being absurd. ‘I believe you are in something of a fix yourself…’
‘Not so desperate that I have to resort to trying to live with a man who, on his own admission, is impossible to live with,’ she said with some spirit. ‘I pray you, do not assume that because I am in a little difficulty I have to throw myself at the first man who crosses my path. I listened to Master Mellison because politeness demanded it, but that does not mean I understood or wished to comply with whatever it was he was suggesting. I may be a Capitain, as you put it, but we are not all like my great-uncle, I assure you. My mother was a lady right to the end, in spite of being forcibly separated from all she held dear and having to earn a living.’ She pushed her chair back and stood up. ‘I am grateful for your hospitality, Lord Pargeter, but I should like to leave now.’
‘Leave?’ he queried, raising one dark brow. ‘I am afraid you can’t do that.’
‘I insist.’
He smiled. She was very angry indeed. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes sparkled; she was not a lost kitten but a spitting one, and he found the transformation somewhat disturbing. ‘I am sorry,’ he said. ‘As soon as the roads are cleared of snow, of course you may leave. I would not dream of detaining you against your will. Please sit down and eat some breakfast; I can’t have you fainting again.’
She subsided into her chair, though she did nothing to obey his command to eat. She was sure that food would choke her.
‘That’s better. Now, let us begin again. You are very welcome to stay as long as you like, but there are certain things you should know.’ He looked closely at her, wondering how to go on. ‘Firstly, my friend Mellison.’
‘What about him?’
‘He is betrothed to my sister Kate.’
‘I know; he told me.’
‘He is also impetuous. Once he has an idea in his head, there’s no shifting it.’
‘About you needing a wife, you mean?’
‘Yes. He is quite convinced you are the very one.’
‘I am flattered,’ she murmured, but she didn’t sound very convincing. ‘But haven’t you got a mind of your own?’
His smile disappeared and his frown took over. ‘My mind is my own, Mistress Donnington, make no mistake about that. Unfortunately Charles was so sure of himself that he told my grandmother to expect you…’ He paused. ‘He said I had met you in London, at Lady Gordon’s…’
Margaret attempted to laugh, but it came out more like a strangled cry. ‘I have never met Lady Gordon.’
‘Please do not interrupt. Grandmama was overjoyed to know I am going to settle down at last.’ He grinned suddenly. ‘I am twenty-six years old and she was beginning to think it would never happen.’
‘It hasn’t,’ Margaret said sharply.
He ignored her interruption. ‘Lady Pargeter is very old and not always in good health. The doctors say she must not, on any account, be upset.’
‘I am sorry for that and, of course, I would not wish to upset her, but——’
‘Her ladyship has been led to believe I have brought you here to meet her. She wants to see you.’
‘Master Mellison had no right…’
‘Exactly what I told him, Mistress Donnington, but I am afraid he is unashamed. He is quite convinced he is in the right of it and you will agree to marry me.’
‘You have not asked me, have you?’
‘I am asking you now.’
‘In order to please your friend or your grandmother?’
‘I please myself.’ Again there was that angry set to his mouth which spoiled his looks.
Margaret found herself laughing hysterically. The events of the last two days had been so strange, the people she’d met even stranger. It was like being in a madhouse.
‘I am glad it amuses you,’ he said coldly, though he could not help noticing the dimple deepening near her mouth; he found it strangely alluring.
‘I am sorry,’ she said, taking a handkerchief from her reticule and dabbing at her streaming eyes. ‘But I never dreamed my first proposal would be so…so romantical.’
He stood up suddenly, crashing his chair back. ‘And I never expected the lady in receipt of my offer would laugh in my face.’ He strode to the window to look out on the white landscape and calm himself. Charles was right about one thing. There was no question of Susan’s coming down in this weather and neither could he go to her. The thought of never seeing her again filled him with impatience which could not be relieved unless he followed his friend’s advice and found someone else to marry. And Margaret’s laughter had served to harden his heart; and the fact that she was a Capitain went some way to salving his conscience. He turned back to her, once more in command of himself. ‘Please forgive me. I deserved your derision, but let’s not beat about the bush any longer. I need a wife and you need somewhere to live, so shall we begin again?’
The look on his face stopped her laughter. He was regarding her with an expression almost of loathing, and yet there was pain behind the dark eyes, as if the hate was more for himself than her. ‘I do believe you are serious!’
‘Certainly I am. After all, arranged marriages are nothing out of the ordinary and, if you have no one to make such arrangements for you, is there any reason why you should not make them for yourself? I am wealthy and I am not an ogre. I will make no great demands on you. You will have your own suite of rooms, a wardrobe befitting my wife, jewellery, carriage and horses, an allowance.