Page 115 of A Perilous Passion

He pushed out a breath. “I’m beginning to think you may be right. But the motives behind my actions are the very noblest, I assure you.”

It was noble to throw young ladies onto the sand and try to saw their hair off with a blunt knife? Honestly. She would never fully comprehend the English aristocracy.

“I still don’t understand about the lock of hair,” she persisted.

He shifted his weight on the bed, reminding her of their intimate position. Unbidden, a spark of physical desire ignited in her belly.

She crushed it mercilessly. The impropriety of having a man sitting on one’s bed in the middle of the night shouldn’t excite a woman—it should shock and appall her.

Shouldn’t it?

“I believed that by convincing your mama there is something…intimate between us, I could buy her silence,” he explained.

“But that would be a lie. And if it got out, it could ruin me.” Not that she wasn’t ruined already, according to Mama. But, thankfully, hardly anyone knew about that.

“I know, and I’m sorry. I’ve met mothers like her before, though. Their desire to avoid scandal is almost as strong as their need to get their daughters wed to a nobleman. I was to show the lock of hair as irrefutable proof that you and I had an understanding.”

Ah. “Thus, blackmailing her into silence.”

He winced slightly as he nodded.

She was starting to enjoy having the moral high ground for a change. He deserved to squirm. She inquired, “Which particular falsehood had you decided to dupe my relations with—the one where we are secretly engaged, or the one where we’d had an affair but it was now over?”

“The latter. Fewer…complications. I would promise not to blacken your good name if your mama agreed to say nothing of my presence in the area.”

She clamped her jaw. “You’d really have done that?”

What a dreadful man! She truly wasn’t a violent person, but there were limits.

He held her gaze somberly. “I’d do whatever it took.”

“Short of simply asking, as any normal person would.”

His shoulders stiffened. “I need absolute certainty my secret won’t be betrayed, not vague promises. It’s vital to both your safety and my own that no one in this household says they know me, either as Beckport or as Mr. Seabourne. And you must never speak of what we found in the cave that day.”

She scowled at his commanding tone. “Why not? Is smuggling really so terrible a thing?” In fact, she was far more worried about whether someone else might speak of what they saw in the cave that day…

A heavy silence filled the air between them. The candlelight flickered, etching shadows onto his face, and she pulled the sheets more tightly around her. Lit from beneath, even a face as ruggedly handsome as his could look…demonic.

“You think not?” he growled.

She held up a hand. “I didn’t mean to make you angry. I just meant that smugglers have mouths to feed, as do all men. Though, I don’t suppose an aristocrat like yourself would know anything about deprivation.”

“Don’t presume to lecture me,” he warned, “or I’ll be tempted to carry out my threat of exposing you to ruin.” He closed his eyes a moment and took a deep breath. “I can say no more. It might be dangerous for you to be caught up in my affairs.”

Ah, the irony. “Too late for that,” she pointed out. “My face is known here, and I’ve been seen in that cave. With you on top of me.”

He hissed softly through his teeth. “True. But they’ll assume you were far too preoccupied to see anything but me. And with any luck, they didn’t get a good look at your face.”

“But what if they did recognize us? Won’t they be suspicious if we’re never seen together again? Not that I’m implying,” she added quickly, the heat rising in her cheeks, “that I particularly wish to see you again.”

“Be that as it may, we must appear strangers from now on. There may come a day when it’s dangerous for anyone to admit acquaintance with Rafe Seabourne. Or even, God forbid, with the Earl of Beckport. Your mother and aunt must be sworn to secrecy. Swear to me.”

She was about to protest when he reached out and placed a finger under her chin, silencing her most effectively.

She gazed into his dark eyes as his gaze roved over her face. He was waiting for her assent, but his light touch had robbed her of all thought. Somehow, she managed the tiniest of nods.

He nodded back, but continued to appraise her, his expression turning nearly as befuddled as she felt.