Mistress - Amanda Quick [71]
“Marcus?” Iphiginia’s voice sounded breathless.
Marcus realized that he was walking so swiftly she was obliged to skip to keep up with him. “Yes?”
“I realize that you are very angry, my lord. I want you to know that I sincerely regret my actions.”
“Hush, Iphiginia.”
“I should not have misled you about my past.”
“We will talk of this tomorrow. I must think on the matter tonight.”
“Yes, my lord. I understand. You are vastly annoyed and no doubt wish to abandon your pretense of being my lover.”
“I do not see any alternative.” He was going to replace the role of lover with that of husband.
“On the contrary,” Iphiginia said swiftly. “There is every reason to continue on with our masquerade.”
“That is no longer possible, Iphiginia.”
“Come now, sir. You are a very intelligent man.”
“Do you think so? I, myself, am having some doubts on that particular point.”
“Nonsense,” Iphiginia said bracingly. “You are really quite clever. There can be no question about the powers of your intellect.”
“Hmm.”
“And although you are angry, I know you will not allow your emotions to dominate your keen sense of reason.”
“I appreciate your confidence in my brain,” he said gravely.
“Yes, well, the thing is, I would like to remind you that I had a very good excuse for pretending to be both a widow and your mistress.”
“This is not the best time to remind me of your talent as an actress.” They were almost back to the terrace. Marcus saw that most of the lights on the upper floors were out. The guests were abed. It should not be difficult to get Iphiginia back to her bedchamber unseen.
“Sir, I must ask you to keep in mind that my reason for undertaking the role of your mistress-in-name-only still exists. We must maintain the pretense until we discover the identity of the blackmailer. I trust you will not do anything rash?”
“Rash?”
Iphiginia’s eyes were wide and luminous in the shadows. “I pray you will not terminate our liaison so far as Society is concerned. You will allow our pretense to stand, will you not?”
Her obvious failure to comprehend the ramifications of what had just happened on the floor of the Temple of. Vesta caused Marcus to lose what was left of his patience.
“Miss Bright, I would like to remind you that you have a new and potentially far more significant problem on your hands than you had an hour ago.”
She blinked uncertainly. “I beg your pardon?”
“You are no longer a mistress-in-name-only.”
She looked blank for an instant. Then realization dawned. “Oh, I see what you mean.”
“Do you, Miss Bright?”
“Yes, of course.” She lowered her eyes, apparently fascinated with the pleats of his shirt. “But I do not see that one extremely brief little interlude that did not amount to much need alter the nature of our association in any way.”
“Damnation, Iphiginia—”
“Marcus, please.” She raised a hand as though to touch his cheek and then apparently changed her mind. “I know that you did not enjoy what happened back there in the ruin.”
“My pleasure or lack of same is the least important element in this situation,” he said roughly. “I do not believe that you quite grasp the enormity of the problem.”
“But I do, my lord. I mean, I realize precisely how unnerving, indeed, how very alarming your collapse must have been for you. Heavens, for a moment there, I believed that you had died or at the very least had suffered a fit of apoplexy.”
“Apoplexy. Christ. I am going mad. There can no longer be any doubt.”
“You must believe me when I say that I had no notion that your discovery that I was a virgin would have such a debilitating effect on you. I am truly sorry, my lord.”
Marcus reached the balustrade that surrounded the terrace. He came to a halt and looked at Iphiginia. Her conversation had become riveting in some strange, demented fashion. He was literally fascinated.
“Quite right,” he agreed. “How could you have known just what your virginity would do to my delicate sensibilities?”
“Precisely.” She smiled her brilliant smile. “But you have assured me that you are all right now. You were being truthful, were you not?”