A Match Made in Mistletoe
“Oh,” she said with a dismal little squeak.
Paul looked serio
us and sheepish. Neither expression was characteristic. “Good morning, Serena.”
“Good morning, Paul,” she said warily, searching in vain for some hint of the condemnation she deserved. “I was just finishing.”
He made a curiously pleading gesture. “Please… I’m sure you don’t want to see me this morning. But I’d very much like to talk to you.”
Probably to explain that he wouldn’t be proposing. “After last night, you must hate me.”
He shook his head and advanced to take the seat cornerwise to her. “You can’t think I blame you.”
“You should,” she said frankly, sinking back into her chair. Perhaps it was best to get this over with.
“It’s that swine Hallam.” To her surprise, his eyes were full of remorse. “The arrogant devil even warned me that I was a fool to take you for granted.”
He caught her hand. Serena waited to experience a thrill—after all, she’d spent most of her life wishing that Paul Garside would look at her as if she was the only girl in the world.
Unfortunately she felt nothing but stirring impatience.
Paul went on, before she could correct his impression that she’d been a complete innocent in last night’s brouhaha. “You’re a naive country maiden, and he’s a rake. The ladies in London were mad for him. One click of his fingers, and he had any woman he wanted. You didn’t stand a chance, my darling.”
Vaguely she noticed that Paul had called her his darling. More immediate was the unwelcome image of hordes of sophisticated harpies clamoring for Giles’s attention. She mightn’t know those strumpets, but she’d dearly like to kill them.
“You were furious,” she said in a subdued voice.
“With him. Never with you.” He paused. “It was my fault. I neglected you and left you easy prey for a ravening wolf.”
She bit back the impulse to tell Paul that she, not Giles, had done most of the hunting. “You make me sound like a ninnyhammer. I went into sin with my eyes wide open.”
Again Paul shook his golden head. She started to find it annoying. “That’s a rake’s tactic, my dear, to let you think you’re making the running, when all the time he’s luring you to ruin.”
“You seem to know a lot about it.”
His remorse deepened. “I can’t lie and say I’ve lived a pure life, but I’m ready to put aside my bachelor ways and settle down with a good woman. You’ll never have to worry about my fidelity, Serena. You’ve always been the one for me.”
Oh, no, she knew what was coming. And she absolutely wasn’t ready to hear it.
“Paul…” she began, not sure what to say. It seemed stupid to ask him to give her time, when they both knew she’d been waiting for this moment all her life.
His hand tightened, and he spoke over her. “There’s no lady I esteem more than you. I believe we will be very happy together, and our families will be delighted if you do me the honor of becoming my wife.”
She stared appalled at him, having no idea how to respond. He paused in clear expectation of an eager acceptance.
When she didn’t speak, he frowned. “My dearest, I promise no woman will be more cherished and protected and respected.”
She swallowed to shift the jagged rock blocking her throat. It didn’t work. She swallowed again.
“Last night you caught me kissing another man.” Her voice sounded rusty, as though she had a cold.
His gesture dismissed her statement. “I’ve already told you—it’s forgotten.”
She tried and failed to pull away. “I haven’t forgotten.”
He smiled at her, as though she was a foolish, pretty little thing who should yield to his endless masculine competence. With a shock, she realized that was how he’d always treated her. As if she needed to hold his hand to cross the road.
Once she might have accepted it—she’d been so blind with infatuation, she’d accept anything in exchange for a morsel of Paul’s attention. But after these last tumultuous days, she came to suspect that she wasn’t sweet at all. Instead she was wild and wayward, and she wanted a man who treated her as an equal, not as a fragile charge on his chivalry.