“Ah…a marriage with deception then, so a normal ton marriage from what I have observed.”
Verity smothered an exclamation of annoyance. “You are trying to vex me!”
“Perhaps,” he said with provoking amusement. “And I do not need a wife with connections. While it would be beneficial to my future ambitions, it is not a requirement. I can make it anywhere, no matter how brutal the climb, on my own terms.”
There was that unbending resolve in his tone, and she realized it was his innate pride which had pushed him to be the man that he is today. Many would have crumbled under the expectations of turning around the fortunes of several estates and to provide for so many dependents. Most would have married a woman of fortune and not done much more.
But not James.
“I would like my countess to possess intelligence, kindness, and all the social graces and proper knowledge of how to behave in society to help our children take their place in the world. In that regard I am sorely lacking, with blunt edges that will never be smooth enough for me to wade through these shark-infested high society waters without a few bites. Though I promise I will bite back.”
Yet he sounded so uncaring. And a pulse of awareness echoed inside of her. “But most of all, you wish for a lady who would accept you how you are. That is one of the reasons you are no longer interested in pursuing Lady Susanna.”
He stared at her for a moment, and then said, “Your break is over.”
With startling speed, he rolled atop her, caught her wrists, and caged them at her side, rendering her helpless. A wave of heat burst through Verity, like molten lava.
He dipped his face perilously close to hers, their noses almost touching. “Use all resources I’ve shown you so far to escape.”
She struggled to push his massive weight from her body.
“Remember, Verity. Bite. Knee in the groin. Scream if need be. One aspect of fighting is learning how to be scrappy. You are small, but quick and agile. That quickness is your greatest advantage.”
She lifted her hips with a hard jerk, but his grip did not break. The man did not even budge. And most mortifying, she had to stop as a ripple of heat shuddered through her. How humiliating that he was not similarly affected. She did everything to mask how unsettled his presence atop her body made her feel. It was not fear, nor a sense of disgust or worry that he would hurt her. James was being a gentleman in every way. It was her secretly hoping he would kiss her. Verity felt awful. She wriggled and bucked beneath him, wicked thoughts stirring despite every attempt to bury them deep in her mind.
“Think,” he snapped, sounding rough and tight. “Escape me!”
A snarl of frustration slipped from her, and she reared up and brushed her lips along his collarbone. When he did not release her, she pressed her lips to his.
James froze in astonished silence, then lurched from her so quickly, he knocked his elbows onto the floor. He winced and scrabbled to his feet, and she awkwardly stood.
“I am terribly mortified, James. I cannot imagine why I did that. I am so sorry!” Verity wanted to die from the humiliation coursing through her. She had kissed him. It had been a quick peck on the lips, and it had wrought the loosening of arms she’d needed for a quick escape.
She pressed a finger to her lips. “I was not thinking, James!”
The look on his face made her want to disappear. What had she been thinking? But that was the problem wasn’t it? Often she did not think, acting on sheer impulse.
“Think nothing of it,” he said gruffly walking a few paces from her. “The element of surprise is always good. You caught me off guard and you escaped. Well done.” He glanced around. “This session is over. Good night, Lady Verity.”
Then he walked away, leaving her standing there like a fool. Dear God, surely, he would terminate their agreement. Why had she been so foolish and impulsive? And now there would be a terrible, awful tension between them if he would ever agree to another session.
Verity wasn’t certain how long she stood there before darting through the door, and down the hallway. At the base of the stairs she glanced up to see him just reaching the landing to the second floor. She hurried after him, panting slightly, ignoring the aching in her muscles. A door closed in the distance and she made her way to it, lifting her hand to knock.
It was highly improper, her conscience warned her. Surely this was his bedchamber. But she had to talk to him. The manner in which he had dismissed her did not bode well, and she had to convince him it was an aberration and it would never happen again. And certainly standing in the doorway of a man’s chamber and talking to him, could not be more indecent and scandalous than that man teaching her to fight!
Verity knocked on the door and waited. When no answer came, she knocked again. After a few more moments, impatience and anxiety had her testing the door. It eased open under her palm, and she faltered into remarkable stillness.
Her chest went so tight, she could scarcely breathe. James was naked!
His thighs and calves were thick and powerful, stomach and buttocks lean and delineated with muscle. I am staring at a naked man. Her heart thrummed painfully hard and her entire body tingled. Dear heaven, she had never felt like this before.
She must have made a sound, for he glanced around and their gazes collided. It was the earl’s turn to freeze and it was as if he turned into a marble. A multitude of emotions flickered over his face before it became impassive. Yet he made no move to grab for a banyan or his clothes. The doorknob slipped from her nerveless fingers, and Verity turned and ran as if rabid dogs chased her. Her response had been too strong, too frightening, and she wanted only to hide away.
She dashed into the room assigned to her, made her way behind the screen, and started to remove the small shirt and trousers with trembling hands. Verity paused and rang the bell for Grace. Oh God, what had she been thinking to follow him? The maid arrived and a few minutes later Verity was once more garbed in her chemise, pantaloons, petticoats, and her dark green gown. Her hair was fixed and her small dark hat and veil once more covered her features.
She fought for a sense of calm, hating how heated her cheeks and entire body felt. What must he think of her? And why had he not followed her? Why had he not berated her for the kiss? Verity wasn’t certain she wanted the answer to those questions, but she could not leave without an apology. Her sleep would be haunted. And she absolutely must know if they were to continue with lessons.
She made her way downstairs, and paused at the base of the stairs, gripping the carved mahogany railing. This time she would await an answer before daring to open his door. In fact, she would wait for him to come to her. Perhaps in the drawing room.