Lovers Forever

by Shirlee Busbee

Genres: Historical Fiction; Historical Romance; Regency Romance; Romantic Suspense

Synopsis

Busbee is a pleasure to read. --Booklist Love's Eternal Mystery While fleeing the greedy clutches of her vile cousin, Lady Tess Mandeville is robbed and left for dead in the woods. She awakes with no memory of who or where she is. But fate intervenes when she wanders into a tavern and is mistaken for a barmaid. Her accidental profession leads her into the arms of Nicholas Talmage, the darkly handsome Earl of Shelbourne, and the two share a night of unrivaled passion. But as Tess's true identity comes to light, they realize their families are locked in a mysterious, decades-old feud that could put an end to their fledgling but fiery romance. As the star-crossed pair search for answers to the secrets of their past, they'll strive to defend an unremitting love that shatters the bounds of time. . . "Busbee is back and better than ever!" --Julia Quinn Praise for Shirlee Busbee "A consummate storyteller." -- Romantic Times "Keeps the action and passion blazing." -- Publishers Weekly

Release date: December 1, 2012

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 420

Sample

“Did you see that gown? And to wear it to Lady Oakhurst’s charity bazaar of all places! It was a shock, I can tell you, when I first laid eyes on it—cut so low, I didn’t know where to look! And the color! As close to orange as I ever hope to see! You’d think at her age—why, she must be at least five years older than I, and I am not considered a green girl any longer—that she’d know better.” Hester Mandeville, her lively face full of outrage, barely paused for breath before she went on in heated accents, “Her brother, Randal, not dead a year and Athena is already flaunting herself in a garment that I would not hesitate to stigmatize as fast!”

It was a summation that would have done a woman twice her age proud, but Hester’s comment lost much of its moralizing impact by being uttered with a note of such open envy that her niece, Tess, had to choke back a gurgle of laughter. While Tess had been startled to see Lady Athena, the earl of Sherbourne’s older sister, wearing “colors” before the year of mourning was up, the gown hadn’t been quite that bad. It had been cut rather daringly, it was true, but the shade had been more of a rich antique gold than orange!

Sending her pretty aunt, normally the most tolerant of creatures, a look of affectionate amusement, Tess murmured, “But aren’t we also beginning to wear some color again? You can’t have forgotten,” Tess went on with a sudden catch in her throat, “that Sidney died just eleven days after Lord Sherbourne.”

Moral outrage over Athena Talmage’s clothes was instantly suspended as both women were assailed by a wave of grief. Each dabbed at the corner of her eye with a handkerchief. Hester said fiercely, “Those wretched Talmages! There was no excuse for that wicked, wicked duel! It was done out of spite! Randal knew that Sidney was no swordsman....” A tight, unhappy smile curved Hester’s soft mouth. “It must,” she added in a husky voice, “have come as a most unwelcome shock to the great earl of Sherbourne that my brother was not quite the novice with the blade that he had supposed.” She took a shaky breath and blurted out, “I’m glad Sidney was able to kill him first. And I don’t care if I am being uncharitable!”

For several seconds there was silence in the well-sprung coach as it bowled smoothly along the road toward Mandeville Manor, the home of the two ladies. Ordinarily it was a pleasant, if longish, ride from the small town of Hythe, on the coast of Kent, to the gracious welcome of Mandeville Manor, some twenty miles inland. Ordinarily, too, the women would have enjoyed the lovely October day—the sky was a brilliant blue with only a few clouds on the horizon, the sun still warm, the leaves of the oaks and beeches barely revealing a hint of the brilliant color they would display in another month. But neither lady was aware of the passing countryside—each was remembering the terrible tragedy that had shaken the very foundations of their comfortable life some ten months ago.

Staring blindly out the coach window, Tess felt the tears filling her eyes and she took a deep steadying breath, willing herself not to cry. Oh, but it was hard! She had adored her uncle. Sidney, the fifth Baron Mandeville, had been a high-spirited, sunny-faced individual, a handsome man with a merry charm. He’d always had a smile and a kind word for nearly everyone, and despite the fact that he had been a reckless gambler who had helped bring the family closer to ruin, Tess’s deep affection for him had not lessened.

Tess’s mother had died a few weeks after her birth some twenty-one years ago, and her father had lost his life in a hunting accident before she was four years old, so she had no clear memory of either of her parents. Before she had even been old enough to realize the tragedy that had struck her at such a young age, her father’s sister, Hester, and his brother, Sidney, had ably filled the breach, showering her with warm, unstinting affection. Tess hadn’t viewed her late father’s siblings as parents precisely. Sidney had been only twelve years her senior, while Hester, seventeen years older than Tess, was a mature thirty-eight. Yet no one seeing her aunt’s lovely, laughing face and slim form could possibly think of Hester Mandeville as matronly!

Tess sighed heavily as she continued to stare out the coach window, an errant shaft of sunlight suddenly turning a stray curl of hair from beneath her silk bonnet to flame. The death of her uncle Sidney had been doubly tragic—not only had she lost the nearest thing to a father she had ever possessed, but Sidney’s death had brought the despicable Avery Mandeville on the scene and everything had changed!

Her generous lips thinned. She didn’t really begrudge Avery his inheritance; she didn’t mind so very much that Mandeville Manor and its broad acres were now his and that she and her aunt lived in their old home at his sufferance; she didn’t even mind that he was constantly in and out of the manor, dividing his time between it and the London town house—they were his by law, after all. What she minded, and what brought a militant sparkle to her striking violet eyes, was his persistent and decidedly unwelcome pursuit of her hand!

At twenty-one, Tess Mandeville was an arrestingly beautiful young woman. Her rich red hair and black-lashed violet eyes were a stunning combination, and with her delicately sculpted features and trim, lithe body she was undeniably a tempting bundle of femininity. She was also, from her mother’s side of the family, a sizable heiress, and while she suspected that Avery had no objection to her comely form, she was more than certain that it was her fortune that interested him the most!

It was common knowledge these days that the Mandeville fortune was sadly in need of repair and that poor Sidney had been haphazardly looking for an heiress to marry before his untimely death. The Mandevilles were not destitute by any means. They could, with a few economies, easily maintain a comfortable way of life; but they certainly could no longer spend money without thought of the future. Receiving word of Sidney’s death, Avery, the newest heir to the barony and a distant cousin, had immediately resigned his captaincy in the infantry and returned to England, eager to claim his title and fortune. Upon his arrival from the continent, where he had been fighting under Sir Arthur Wellesley against Napoleon’s troops on the Iberian peninsula, he had been greatly displeased to learn that while he could now style himself Baron Mandeville and claim the elegant rooms of Mandeville Manor and the equally sumptuous rooms of the London town house, there was very little ready money with which to support the luxurious lifestyle he felt was his due. It had been swiftly borne upon the new baron that marriage to an heiress was definitely needed. And who should be there right beneath his nose but Tess . . . lovely, unmarried, and so very suitable for his needs. Tess with her greed-inspiring fortune, at present and until she either married or attained the grand age of twenty-five held in trust for her—and excellently guarded from scheming individuals—by one of her mother’s younger brothers, Lord Rockwell.

A little smile suddenly flashed across her expressive face. Tess may have lost her parents at an early age, but happily she had been blessed with caring relatives on both sides of her family. Not only had she enjoyed the unstinting affection of Hester and Sidney, but she was also, albeit carelessly, doted upon by her mother’s two brothers. Thomas, the current Lord Rockwell, and Alexander, as handsome and as charming a rogue as one would ever meet. Tess seldom saw either of her maternal uncles, which was hardly surprising since Thomas and Alexander were several years her senior and both were well-known, much-in-demand men about town who seldom strayed from the wickedly exciting environs of London. It was true she was infrequently in their company, but she was always aware of their affectionate concern for her.

Her gaze narrowed. A letter from her, containing just a hint of the new Baron Mandeville’s increasingly distasteful wooing, and she knew her tall, broad-shouldered uncles would swoop down from London and with brutal efficiency teach Avery a much needed lesson.

Catching a glimpse of the fierce sparkle in her niece’s eyes, Hester asked, “What makes you look so, my dear?”

Smiling across at her aunt, Tess said lightly, “I was just imagining the expression on Avery’s face if Thomas and Alexander were to pay him a visit.”

A hint of color surged inexplicably into Hester’s cheeks, but her voice was determinedly casual as she said, “I’m certain that Alexander wouldn’t hesitate a moment to take him to task if you breathed just the merest hint of your difficulties with Avery. Alexander is the kindest, most considerate gentleman I know, and he simply would not allow you to be badgered—especially by the likes of Avery! Both of your uncles are very protective of you and rightly so.” She smiled faintly. “Their interest would certainly put Avery on the horns of a dilemma, wouldn’t it? He wouldn’t know whether to fawn upon them, hoping to gain their good graces, or whether to puff with outrage that they suspect him of ungentlemanly activities.” Hester’s smile faded and she asked quietly, “Has he been particularly unpleasant? Shall I speak to him?”

Tess shook her head. “No, you know we dare not do anything that might impel Avery to demand that we leave Mandeville Manor—Aunt Meg would be devastated.”

Since Sidney’s death it was a complicated situation in which Tess found herself. Actually, her situation wasn’t terrible at all; she was the possessor of a fortune and two fond uncles who would move heaven and earth to keep her happy—she could escape from Mandeville Manor any time she chose to. It was Hester’s fate and that of her great-aunt Margaret that kept Tess chained to the manor house in which she had been born.

It was odd, Tess thought, how many of the troubles of the Mandeville family seemed to go back almost seventy years ago, to the 1740s, to Gregory, her great-grandfather, and his despicable abduction of Benedict Talmage’s bride-to-be, the Dalby heiress. Theresa Dalby had possessed the red hair and violet eyes that Tess herself had inherited. A tremor of unease suddenly quivered through her as she wondered if she might share her great-grandmother’s fate—marriage to a man she did not love.

It was an old, sad tale. Once upon a time there had lived in amiable harmony, as neighbors and friends, the Talmage family, earls of Sherbourne; the barons of Mandeville; and the Dalbys. While the Dalbys could not style themselves as lords of the realm, they were of aristocratic birth and breeding and possessed an immense fortune. The last holder of the Dalby name had been knighted and so could call himself Sir Arthur Dalby. It was Sir Arthur’s only child and heiress, she of the flame red hair and dancing violet eyes, who had been Tess’s great-grandmother and for whom she had been named. The Dalby lands had been situated between the Sherbourne and Mandeville estates, and when it became obvious that Theresa would be the last Dalby and would inherit everything, it wasn’t so surprising that the earl of Sherbourne and Baron Mandeville should cast appraising gazes in that direction. Especially so, since each man had an unmarried son . . . a son who as Theresa’s husband would gain all those broad acres and all the immense wealth of the Dalby fortune.

An intense rivalry broke out between the earl of Sherbourne’s heir, Benedict, and Baron Mandeville’s eldest son, Gregory, as both men competed furiously for the hand of the heiress. It had seemed, when Theresa’s betrothal had eventually been announced, that Benedict had won the contest and that Gregory would have to retire gracefully from the fray. Unfortunately, Gregory Mandeville was not a gracious loser; barely a week before Theresa Dalby’s marriage to Benedict Talmage was to take place, Gregory cravenly abducted her from her home.

Despite the Dalby fortune, it had been a love-match between Benedict and Theresa. By stealing his hated rival’s bride-to-be, Gregory had not only struck a powerful blow to Benedict’s pride, but he had also grievously wounded his heart. Painfully aware of what means Gregory would use to force Theresa’s compliance, Benedict searched frantically from one end of England to the other, knowing that when he found the pair that he would be too late to prevent the unthinkable—Theresa’s brutal ravishment by Gregory. Benedict’s unceasing, desperate quest came to naught. It was not until nearly a year later that Gregory dared return to Mandeville Manor with his new wife and their newborn son.

Gregory certainly hadn’t taken any chances, Tess thought with a grimace of distaste. Not only had he abducted another man’s bride, but he had kept her well hidden until she was not only pregnant by him, but had borne his child. A wave of pity swept through her as she imagined Theresa’s anguish. Abducted, raped, and forced to bear the child of a man she loathed.

“Do you think that Great-Grandmother Theresa ever felt anything but hatred and disgust for him?” Tess suddenly asked Hester.

Understandably confused by the question, Hester blinked at Tess, obviously attempting to gather her thoughts. “Are you referring to Gregory and Theresa?” At Tess’s quick nod, Hester shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, it’s not as if it were something I could ask her about, was it?”

Tess’s mouth twisted. “I suppose not. I’ve just always wondered how she coped. It must have been horrible for her.”

Perfectly willing to discuss the matter, but totally mystified about why Tess should be interested in something that had happened so long ago, Hester said quietly, “Well, she didn’t have to cope for very long—remember, she and Benedict disappeared together three or four years later.”

A dark look on her face, Tess muttered, “I know, but before that she had to endure Great-Grandfather and, don’t forget, watch the man she really loved marry another. They both must have been utterly miserable—she married to a black-hearted scoundrel and Benedict finally forced to marry for the sake of his title. It must have been bitterly heartrending for her when Benedict’s son was born. I don’t doubt that every time she looked at her own son she didn’t think that, except for dear Gregory’s perfidious actions, the baby would have been hers and Benedict’s.”

“It happened a long time ago, Tess. Why are you brooding on it now?”

“I don’t know,” Tess answered truthfully. “I suppose it has to do with the fact that everyone says I look so much like her—even I can see the resemblance between myself and the portrait of her in the gallery. But it’s not just the hair and eyes or even the shape of my face . . . it’s something inside of me—there are times I feel such affinity with her—almost as if I can feel every emotion she felt.” Her mouth set in grim lines. “And I know she hated my great-grandfather with every bone and fiber of her being! I just hope that she and Benedict had a long happy life together when they finally ran away.”

“Well, Gregory certainly had a long life after she deserted him—and I find it ironic that he outlived not only their son, Richard, but one of his grandsons as well—your father, Edward. Ninety is a vast age, but I doubt he enjoyed very many of those added years.”

“He may not have enjoyed them, but I suspect he was thoroughly enraged when he realized that he was dying.” Tess shook her head. “He was such a despotic presence, even though he’s been dead for over two years now, that sometimes when I walk into the blue salon, I expect to find him sitting there glaring at me.”

Hester’s soft mouth thinned. “I know it is unkind to speak poorly of the dead, but he was such a devil! He was most unkind to you, Tess, no doubt because of your resemblance to Theresa.”

“Clearly he hadn’t the least feeling of affection for any of his family. You’d think he’d have left his own sister better provided for, and as for you . . . well, I think he was still punishing you for not finding a wealthy husband, and that’s why he made such a shabby provision for you in his will. He wanted you and Margaret to know that he didn’t give a farthing about your future!”

Hester averted her face, and Tess could have bitten her tongue off. Hester had never said anything directly, but Tess knew that in the past there was someone her aunt had loved or was still in love with, and that her lack of fortune or his had something to do with Hester’s unmarried state.

Tess was frantically seeking some way to change the topic when Hester began to speak. Her voice constricted, she got out, “Grandfather couldn’t have known that Sidney would die so young. He knew Sidney would take care of Aunt Meg for the rest of her life. And as for me ...” She smiled painfully, “I never was a particular favorite of his anyway.”

“Are you defending him?” Tess demanded, outraged, her violet eyes nearly purple with anger. “You just said he was a devil! And as for your not being a particular favorite of his . . .” Tess suddenly grinned. “Oh, but wasn’t he furious that his only great-grandchild should turn out to be a mere girl?”

Hester smiled wryly. “Indeed he was. I can remember the day you were born—he took it as a personal affront that your poor father and mother had produced only a puny female. I can still recall his ranting and raving as he stormed through the manor. He was absolutely livid. Claimed your dear mother had done it on purpose, just to spite him. Swore he’d find a way to prevent your father from inheriting the title if the next child wasn’t a boy!” Hester shook her head. “I wonder, when your father died just a few years later, if he didn’t regret his hasty words.” She grimaced and added, “Probably not. He always seemed to believe that he could arrange things precisely as he wanted.”

Everything Hester said was true. Tess had grown up under the malevolent eye of her great-grandfather, and during his lifetime, not a day had gone by that she hadn’t been reminded that she should have been a boy or that she looked like the wife who had deserted him and vanished with another man. It hadn’t sat well with Gregory, either, that she was an heiress in her own right and her fortune was safely in the hands of her uncle, where he could not get his grasping hands on it.

Gregory might not have known Sidney would die so improvidently, Tess conceded grimly, but he certainly had known that by not setting aside a decent amount in his will for Margaret and Hester, he was condemning them to a miserable existence if something did happen to Sidney. She would concede that by the time he died Gregory didn’t have a grand fortune to command any longer, but from what remained, he could have settled enough money on each of his female dependents to insure them an independence—even if only a frugal one.

Which brought Tess back to her dilemma. Her own fortune was secure, but Margaret and Hester were at the mercy of the new Baron Mandeville for the roof over their heads and the very food they ate. Tess would have gladly expended a portion of her own impressive fortune on her aunt and great-aunt, but both ladies were loath to take advantage of her sincere offer. Despite several long conversations, usually when Avery had done something especially upsetting, Tess couldn’t seem to make them understand that allowing her to provide for them would be no different from allowing Avery to see to their care. But both ladies were horrified at the idea of Tess using her fortune to take care of them—they were Mandevilles! It was up to Avery to see to their care. In some convoluted manner that made absolutely no sense to Tess, they felt that it would be unfair to her, that they would be taking undue advantage of her, if they allowed her to settle a reasonable sum on them.

Tess sighed heavily. Unless or until events became absolutely unbearable at Mandeville Manor, neither of the two women dearest to her in the world was willing even to hear of using Tess’s money for their own benefit. In the meantime, in spite of Avery’s odious attentions, and the possible danger to herself should he decide to follow Gregory’s methods of obtaining a fortune, it was unthinkable that she simply abandon Hester and Aunt Meg to the indifferent care of that smarmy toad Avery! Which meant, Tess admitted uneasily, she had to stay at Mandeville Manor and helplessly watch over Hester and Aunt Meg like a hen with two chicks confronted by a rapacious tomcat!

A few minutes later Hester broke the thick silence by asking curiously, “Why were you thinking about the old scandal? Gregory’s abduction of Theresa and her later disappearance with Benedict Talmage occurred decades ago. What made you think of them now?”

Tess shrugged. “I guess I had been thinking about the way things have turned out—Sidney’s death and how if Gregory hadn’t acted so despicably, there wouldn’t be such enmity between ourselves and the earls of Sherbourne. Of course Gregory still would have been a spendthrift and wasted most of the money. So the Mandevilles would still probably have ended up in need of another heiress with which to repair their fortunes.”

Hester shot her a look. “Are you certain that Avery hasn’t been annoying you?”

“Oh, perhaps, a little.” She glanced slyly at her aunt. “If you and Auntie Meg would let me set you up in a tidy little house near Hythe, I wouldn’t have to endure his company at all!”

Hester looked distressed. “He has been pestering you!” Leaning forward, she said earnestly, “You don’t have to stay, darling. You know your uncles would be most happy if you went to London or to Lord Rockwell’s estate in Cornwall to live. And though we would miss you like the very devil, Meg and I would do fine....” She took a deep breath and blurted out, “And if he decides to cast us out of the house or he becomes too obnoxious for us to bear, we will let you buy us that little house!”

“But not until then?”

“Oh, Tess! You are the sweetest child in nature, but you know that we cannot. It would not be right!”

Seeing the worry in her aunt’s eyes, Tess put on a sunny expression and said lightly, “Well, I don’t think I’d be happy in London, and as for Cornwall, I’d much rather be right here with you—even if it means putting up with Avery!”

The coach slowed and a moment later they were traveling down the elm-lined drive that led to Mandeville Manor. The manor itself appeared shortly, an elegant half-timbered house built in Elizabethan times. Dark green ivy pressed itself to the sides of the building and softened the outlines of the many dormers in the tiled roof; the lattice-worked windows gleamed in the fading sunlight. With a flourish the carriage swept around the shrub-lined circular drive, and the coachman brought the horses to a stop at the base of the broad steps that led to the massive double entrance doors.

The horses had barely been pulled to a stop before one of the carved oak doors was thrown open and a tall man in buff breeches and a form-fitting coat of bottle green came strolling down the stone steps to meet the ladies. The gentleman, Avery Mandeville, the sixth Baron Mandeville, was without a doubt an attractive male, possessed of a well-made body with broad shoulders and slim hips; and the fact that he had been a military man before inheriting the title was obvious in the way he carried himself, his back ramrod straight, his head high. He far more resembled his third cousin, Gregory, than had any of Gregory’s immediate offspring, having inherited Gregory’s notable thick blond hair and icy blue eyes as well as the handsomeness that ran in the family.

In fact, watching his approach, Tess thought that he could have been her great-grandfather at the same age. A shiver went through her. The knowledge that she bore a striking resemblance to Theresa and that Avery’s features were uncannily those of Gregory’s made her distinctly uneasy. While the situation was different, she couldn’t help wondering, since fate seemed to have assembled a pair of copies of the original players in herself and Avery, if history wasn’t going to repeat itself.

Deliberately she shook off her unpleasant musings. It couldn’t happen again—she’d never marry Avery, no matter what he did! She was far more likely to take a dagger to him if he ever laid a hand on her. As for her being desperately in love with a descendant of the earl of Sherbourne, the whole idea was ludicrous! She’d never met Randal Talmage’s youngest brother, the latest earl of Sherbourne, nor did she even know his name. Love an unknown stranger indeed!

Avery reached the coach and solicitously helped Hester down from the vehicle. Kissing her hand, he murmured, “Ah, dear cousin Hetty, I do wish when you want to use the carriage that you would inform me first. What would have happened if I had needed the coach this afternoon?”

Hester’s cheeks burned with embarrassment, and she began to apologize most profusely, but Avery gently waved aside her words. “Oh, don’t let it concern you. Just remember in the future to let me know of your plans. And now let us talk of other things—can it be that during the brief hours you have been away from Mandeville that you have grown even more lovely?”

Flustered, Hester stammered out some polite reply and threw Tess a beseeching glance. Correctly interpreting Hester’s look as a plea not to annoy him, Tess bit back the tart words that threatened to escape at his antics. Ignoring Avery’s outstretched hands as he turned to help her from the carriage, she nimbly alighted unaided.

A glitter of annoyance in his blue eyes, Avery drawled, “Such independence! It is obvious that you have been vastly spoiled by your aunts. No doubt you need a husband to teach you some manners! Will you at least allow me the pleasure of escorting you to the house?”

Tess looked consideringly from him to the short distance to the front door. “Oh, do you think I might be in danger?” she asked innocently. “That something dreadful might happen to me in the few seconds it will take to mount the steps and go inside?”

His handsome features tightened. “Don’t be ridiculous! I was merely being polite.”

Brushing past him, Tess said airily, “Well, I’m certainly glad we have resolved this particular little misunderstanding. Now if you’ll excuse me . . .”

Tess hurried into the house, not even waiting to see if Hester had followed her. Reaching the relative safety of her own rooms, she tossed aside her frivolous bonnet and ran her fingers through her tangled ringlets. She had been, she admitted guiltily, beastly to Avery, but she just couldn’t seem to help herself. He grated on her nerves, and there was just something about him that made her jumpy and waspish and not at all her usual sunny self. Besides, she didn’t like the way he treated Aunt Meg and Hester—arrogant one minute and in the next leaking oily charm all over them, much as he had just behaved with Hester a few minutes ago. He toys with them, Tess thought angrily, like a big, sleek cat with a pair of mice. Showing his claws, then retracting them. Always making them aware of the power he holds over them. Never letting them feel totally at ease.

With an irritable flounce, she turned away and began to shrug out of her travel-rumpled gown. She had just tossed the plum-colored gown onto the plump featherbed and was tying the sash of an apple green silk wrapper around her slender waist when the door to her room was thrown open. In outraged astonishment she stared as Avery calmly entered her room and shut the door firmly behind him.

“How dare you!” Tess began, her violet eyes flashing with temper. “Get out of my room this instant!”

Avery leaned back against the door and said bluntly, “I think you forget that this is my house now and that as lord and owner, I can go anywhere, anytime I please.”

“In that case,” Tess fairly snarled, “I shall remove myself from your house this very instant! If you shall be so good as to let John Coachman know that I shall be needing the carriage, I won’t remain a second longer than is necessary to pack my belongings and leave for London. My uncles will be delighted to see me!”

“Hmm. Well, that does present a problem, doesn’t it?” Avery drawled languidly. “You forget John is my servant and that the horses and coach are also mine.” His cold blue eyes met hers. “And it so happens that I don’t want to send them out again today. As a matter of fact, I have given all of the servants a few days off.”

Tess took a deep, fortifying breath, her mind racing. The unexpected news that all the servants were gone was not encouraging. She knew that Avery was not happy with her open aversion to his suit, but surely he wouldn’t be bold enough to attempt to force his attentions on her? Just his presence in her room like this was dangerous and could have ruinous repercussions. Every minute he remained here increased the danger. Her jaw set. “I think it is time that we had some clear understanding between us. I don’t know what you believe you are accomplishing by these tactics, but I do not intend to let you compromise me. So if you do not get out of my room within the next two seconds, decorum be damned! I shall scream and scream for so long and so loudly