Amanda drew a long-suffering breath. "No, I will not marry you. No, I will not leave this house with you. No, I have not been playing games. How many more nos would you like?"
Percival's frown turned black. "You have had your head turned. Dexter is a regrettable influence. I insist you leave with me at once."
"Aaaah!" Amanda muted her scream through her teeth.
"It is clearly my duty to save you from yourself." Percival started to tow her to the door. Despite his soft head, he was stronger than she; she jerked back, looking for a weapon-her eye fell on a pewter jug standing on the table in the center of the hall.
With her free hand, she grabbed it, hefted it-realized it held liquid. Gave Percival, eyes fixed on the door, one last chance. "Let me go."
"No."
She flung the water at him-right at his head. It splashed, then cascaded down.
Percival stopped, shook his head, but his grip on her wrist only tightened. He turned to her.
She set her chin stubbornly. "Let me go."
"No."
Her temper erupted. She hit him on the side of the head with the jug-it gave a hugely satisfying clang. He staggered; his grip eased and she twisted her wrist free.
"You foolish woman! You have to come with me-" Percival lunged for her.
She hit him again. "No!" She waited until his eyes focused. "Get this through your thick skull: I do not want to marry you. I never did. I am not going to marry you. I've chosen a far better man. Now, go!" She pointed to the door.
He stepped toward her.
She clobbered him again. "Out!"
He reeled in that direction; she helped him along with a thud on his shoulder.
"Go away!" She kept swinging the jug and he was forced to retreat. Joseph, eyes shining with admiration, held the door wide. Percival tried to make a stand on the threshold. Amanda thumped him again, then shoved him out. He stumbled down the steps.
She stood in the doorway and glared. "I would never marry a dolt who even imagined I didn't know my own mind!"
Slamming the door, she turned, nodded regally to Joseph and handed him the jug. "Mop up the water before someone slips." She stalked toward the corridor to the library, and realized Martin had been standing in the shadows.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Why didn't you help?"
He opened his eyes wide as he moved to let her pass. "I would have if you'd needed it, but you seemed to be managing perfectly well on your own."
Inwardly astounded, she merely humphed and swept on. The man had actually learned that lesson? Gracious Heaven! Would wonders never cease.
She walked into the library to find Reggie and Luc doubled over with laughter. Her lips twitched, but she maintained her dignity.
Luc lifted his head and looked at her with more appro
val than he usually showed. "What the devil did you hit him with?"
"The jug on the hall table."
That set them both off again. Resuming her position on the chaise, she glanced at the clock. Twenty minutes past the hour; the diary would have reached London and be on its way to them in Jules' care.
Luc considered her, then asked Martin what had happened in Lady Arbuthnot's courtyard. Martin suggested he mind his own business.
The diary would arrive before six. Sometime between then and now-
Voices reached them, muffled, but from inside the house. Mystified, they exchanged glances, then heard a barked order, and footsteps, bootsteps-more than one set-striding down the corridor-