A Lady for Lord Randall (Brides of Waterloo)

‘Well, madam, did you think that your actions would keep me from fighting beside my men?’

She was smiling again, but there was a shadow of doubt in her eyes and in her voice when she answered him.

‘I thought by coming to the ball I would see you once more, my lord, was that so very foolish?’

‘I am not talking about your being here, madam. I am talking about the sword.’

‘Sword? I—’

He dismissed her words with a wave of his hand.

‘Do not add lies to your treachery, Miss Endacott. I may have told you I would not fight without the Latymor sword, but that was merely a sop to soothe your femi

nine nerves. I do not believe in such superstitious nonsense.’

‘I never for a moment thought—’

‘Did you not?’ His temper flared. He had never known a rage like it. Not only had she had betrayed him, but she would not admit it, even though he had heard her boasting to Sarah.

The pain went far deeper than anything he had felt before, because she had betrayed him. He should have learned his lesson with the contessa. Women were not to be trusted. He needed to lash out, to make her feel something of his pain.

‘No doubt you saw your chance of becoming a countess slipping away, is that it?’

‘No! You know I care nothing for your title.’

His lip curled. ‘Strange, then, that as soon as I proposed you jumped at the chance.’ He was being unfair and he knew it, but her betrayal spurred him on, he could not help himself. ‘The idea that I might not return to marry you was too fearful to contemplate, so you thought you could keep me with you by stealing my sword. Well, it won’t work, madam.’

She was staring up at him. A moment ago her cheeks had been delicately flushed. Now they were white as her gown. White. The colour of virtue. How wrong he had been.

‘You think I would t-take your sword?’

She looked the picture of bemused innocence, the little crease in her brow, the confusion in her eyes, her voice little more than a thread. He had not realised what a good actress she was.

‘I do not think it, I know!’ His lip curled. ‘Where are your fine, radical principles now, madam?’

* * *

The earl’s blue eyes blazed, but it seemed to Mary that a stranger stood before her. She was dazed by the violence of his attack and could find no way to counter it. Her brain seemed to be moving very slowly, trying to make sense of his words. She heard Lady Sarah’s breathless voice at her side.

‘Justin, everyone is leaving. They say the French are upon us, is that so?’

For a moment Mary was free from that ferocious glare as Randall’s eyes moved to his sister, but only for an instant, then they were back upon her, harder than ever.

‘This was part of your plan, too, I have no doubt. To ingratiate yourself with my family in the hope of finding favour with me.’

Mary could barely think straight, but this last accusation was too much. She dragged her head up.

‘I have no plan, as you call it, and did not ingratiate myself with anyone.’

‘You are a jade, madam. A scheming, ruthless jade. I have no doubt now that you meant all the time to catch yourself a title.’

Sarah gave a little gasp. ‘Justin, you cannot believe that?’

‘Do not be fooled by her quiet demeanour, Sarah. This woman has done everything she can to worm her way into my life. She insinuated herself into Hattie’s company, worked it so that I had no choice but to escort her to Brussels and since then she has been practising her deception, convincing me that she was reluctant to receive my advances. Hah! Pretty good work for an impoverished radical’s daughter, was it not, Miss Endacott, to have an earl lay his heart at your feet.’

She flinched as his words and his scathing tone flayed her, but it made no sense.

‘I have done nothing to deserve this,’ she said quietly.