The Houseparty (27 page)

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Authors: Anne Stuart

Tags: #Romance, #Romance: Regency, #Romance - Regency, #Fiction, #Regency, #Nonfiction, #General, #Non-Classifiable

BOOK: The Houseparty
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Fraser
seemed amused by her rage. "Would you like me to go down on one knee, Lizzie? I thought we understood each other tolerably well. It's not every female I kiss in closets."

"I would like you, Captain
Fraser,
to go to the devil!"

"What is all this unseemly noise?" Lady Elfreda's stentorian tenor bellowed down the hall. "Doesn't anyone know how to behave in a house of mourning?"

Both combatants ignored the plaintive question. By this time
Fraser
was furious too, and his eyes blazed down into hers. "You are being extremely tiresome, Lizzie," he said evenly. "Do you or do you not wish to come with me?"

"If you won't pay any heed to what I've been saying, perhaps this will serve to convince you," she cried, and slapped him across the face with all her strength.

The sound echoed shockingly in the cavernous hall.
Fraser
stared down at her, unmoved. "If
it's
physical violence you prefer," he said, and scooped her up, tossing her over his shoulder and carrying her thrashing figure toward the door.

"Put me down this instant!"

"When we get to Sussex," he replied calmly, carrying her out the front door into the damp spring air. The carriage door was already open, and he tossed her inside with an enthusiastic lack of gentleness, following behind her and slamming the door. As she struggled to gain her
bal
ance,
the coach pulled away, sending her toppling into Fraser's waiting arms.

"How dare you?" she demanded hotly, her eyes straying guiltily to the red imprint of her hand on his tanned cheek.

"I would suggest you watch your step with me, Lizzie," he drawled, a light in his usually somber eyes. "I can be quite ruthless when I need to be."

"I'm certain you can be," she snapped.
"Including manhandling helpless females."

"Anyone less helpless I am unlikely to see," he protested. "However, I must confess you were absolutely right in your earlier supposition. I did bash poor
Brenna
on the head and then come and ply you with sweet words and kisses. To which you responded admirably."

"You didn't!" she gasped, barely managing to stifle the reluctant giggle at the thought of sour Brenna's downfall.
"But why?"

"Because I didn't want her wandering around the east tower any more than I wished you to," he said simply.

"You could have kissed her too," Elizabeth offered. "That would have distracted her."

"But I had no desire to kiss
Brenna.
Only you, my love.
So tell me, would you prefer to have the coachman leave you off at the vicarage?" he asked coolly, his arms nevertheless tight around her unresisting body.

"I dislike above all things having my mind made up for me," she muttered sulkily, trying to preserve her rage while clinging to his shoulders.

"Then by all means make it up yourself," he offered generously, one long-fingered hand straying beneath her willful chin. "Would you like to go back to the vicarage, or would you like to come to Sussex and meet my family?"

"Why should I meet your family?" she demanded in a gentler voice as his other hand tightened around her slender waist.

"Gad, you can be delectably tiresome at times," he sighed, nibbling her earlobe in a distracting fashion. She made no effort to wriggle out of the way. "Because you are going to marry me, like it or no, and—"

She tore herself out of his arms, landing with a solid thump on the carriage floor. "I will not be told what to do!" she declared thunderously, ignoring her ignominious position.

She was also unaware of how completely endearing she was, sitting there in her rumpled blue velvet dress, her tawny chestnut hair falling down around her shoulders, her sherry-colored eyes bright with suspicion, and the bruise across one cheekbone.
Fraser
smiled.

"Will you, my luscious, delectable termagant, marry the poor fool who sits before you completely besotted and rescue him from a life of loneliness and despair?"

Elizabeth considered him for a long moment. "Why?" she asked simply for what she told herself would be positively the last time.

Without further ado Michael pulled her willing form back into his arms, settling her comfortably against his shoulder. "Because I love you," he said, and proceeded to take unfair advantage of her by kissing her quite ruthlessly.

When he finally allowed her to breathe, Elizabeth decided that such an overbearing tyrant had best be humored. "In that case," she murmured dreamily, "I will."

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