Page 15 of The Mistletoe Dare

There was a softer look in her eyes now, one that looked horribly like sympathy. Understanding. Damn her. He’d not be treated like a child.

“Why should I?” he snapped, too angry to moderate his voice.

She hesitated and Rochford snorted, aware she could not think of a good reason. The soft look vanished abruptly, and she scowled at him, which was a blessed relief. “Because you should be with everyone else. I feel quite certain you spend more than enough time on your own.”

“That’s because I prefer my own company to that of a pack of damned fools,” he retorted, before he could think better of it. Naturally, the words offended her, as they’d been meant to do, but now he wished he could take them back as her face shuttered up.

“Well, if you despise us all so, I wonder you came at all,” she threw back, tossing her head as she turned and stalked away from him.

“Hell and the devil! Wait, damn you,” he said, striding after her.

“Why? So you can insult me and the people I care about some more? No, I think not.”

Rochford clenched his fists in frustration. “Argh, you blasted hellcat! I—I didn’t mean it.”

Her footsteps slowed but didn’t stop.

Rochford gnashed his teeth, but there was obviously no other option. “I’m sorry,” he ground out, incensed at having to apologise to the chit.

She stopped and turned to look at him.

“For?” she pressed.

For a moment, he toyed with the idea of throwing her over his shoulder and depositing her in the nearest body of water, preferably a lake, but that would only lead to another apology.

“For calling you all a pack of fools. I didn’t mean it. Well, Blackwood is a bloody fool, but he’d tell you that himself.”

Rochford studied her, waiting to see if he’d humiliated himself enough to gain her forgiveness, though why the hell it mattered he didn’t know. He thought perhaps her lips twitched at his words, but he couldn’t be certain.

She nodded, apparently accepting his apology. “Thank you.”

As they stood staring at each other, the atmosphere prickled and became increasingly awkward.

“Well, then,” he said gruffly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He turned to leave, desperate to get away before the situation became utterly intolerable. The sooner he got outside in the cold, the better.

“Wait,” she said, reaching out and grasping his sleeve.

Rochford froze, staring down at her slender hand upon his arm. She wore no gloves, and he saw her fingers were long and elegant, the nails buffed to a shine. He looked up, his gaze meeting hers, and she snatched her hand away as if she’d been burned.

“I… umm,” she dithered, and he wondered what she was looking so uneasy about. Her cheeks were flushed, but he could not fathom why. “Aren’t you coming to the rout party tonight?”

Rochford’s eyebrows went up. “I don’t go to parties,” he said tersely, wondering if she was mocking him. Everyone knew he didn’t go to such events.

“Why not?”

He scowled at her. Surely, she was taunting him. “Do you think I would find it entertaining to stand about while all the pretty debutantes squeal and pretend to swoon if I glance in their direction?”

“Good heavens, no,” she said, looking genuinely appalled. “They don’t, do they?”

Rochford studied her. Did she really not know he was about as welcome as a dose of the clap at ton events? Angry now, he closed the gap between them, staring down at her.

“Look at my face, Lady Georgina. What would you expect the young ladies to do on seeing it?”

He had to give her credit, she did not flinch away from him but studied his face intently. He knew it was ugly. Christ, he’d been told often enough without the evidence of his own eyes. The ragged scar twisted the skin of his face, pulling at his mouth and eye. If that wasn’t bad enough, what skin wasn’t scarred was pockmarked. Thank the lord he could grow a thick beard, which hid most of it, but the hair was sparse both there and above his ear where the scar ran through it. Yes, he was a pretty sight, was he not?

“I admit it—it is striking at first sight, so I suppose it ought not surprise me they stare. I am perhaps guilty of doing so to begin with, but anything more than that is simply foolishness and shows a lack of intelligence.”