Bleeding? Elizabeth hated that she cared, but she couldn't stop her gasp, and she immediately turned to James. She would never forgive him for what he'd done, and she certainly never wanted to see him again, but she didn't want him to be hurt.
"I'm not bleeding," James muttered.
Caroline looked up at her husband and said, "She hit him twice."
"Twice?" Blake grinned. "Really?"
"It's not funny," Caroline said.
Blake looked down at James. "You let her hit you twice?"
"Hell, I taught her."
“That, good friend, shows an incredible lack of foresight on your part."
James scowled at him. "I was trying to teach her to protect herself."
"From whom? You?"
"No! From- Oh, for the love of God, what does it matter, I-" James looked up, saw Elizabeth carefully inching away, and bounded to his feet. "You're not going anywhere," he growled, grabbing at the sash at the waist of her costume.
"Let me go! Ouch-oh-James!" She wiggled like a fish out of water, unsuccessfully trying to turn around so that she could glare at him. "Let. Me. GO!"
"Not in a million years."
Elizabeth looked at Caroline pleadingly. Surely another woman would be sympathetic to her plight. "Please tell him to let me go."
Caroline glanced from James to Blake and then back at Elizabeth. Clearly torn between her allegiance to her old friend and her sympathy for Elizabeth, she stammered, "I-I don't know what's going on, except he didn't tell you who he was."
“Isn't that enough?''
"Well," Caroline hedged, "James rarely tells people who he is."
"What?" Elizabeth squeaked, whirling around so she could shove James in his aristocratic shoulder. "You have done this before? You despicable, amoral-"
"Enough!" James roared.
Six costumed heads peeked out from around the corner.
"I really think we ought to move inside," Caroline said weakly.
"Unless you prefer an audience," Blake added.
"I want to go home," Elizabeth stated, but no one was listening to her. She didn't know why this surprised her; no one had been listening to her all night.
James nodded curtly at Blake and Caroline and then motioned to the house with a quick jerk of his head. His grip tightened on the sash of Elizabeth's dress, and when he started to walk inside the house, there was nothing she could do but follow.
A few moments later she found herself in the library, the crudest stroke of irony. HOW TO MARRY A MARQUIS was still laying on the shelf, just where she'd left it.
Elizabeth suppressed an irrational urge to laugh. Mrs. Seeton had been right; there was a marquis around every corner. Nobility everywhere, just laying in wait to humiliate poor, unsuspecting women.
And that was what James had done. Every time he'd given her a lesson on how to catch a husband-a marquis, damn him-he'd humiliated her. Every time he'd tried to teach her how to smile or flirt, she'd been demeaned. And when he'd kissed her, pretending to be nothing more than a humble estate manager, he'd soiled her with his lies.
If James hadn't been holding on to her sash, she probably would have grabbed the damned book and heaved it out the window-and then pushed him right along after it.
Elizabeth felt his eyes on her face, burning into her skin, and when she looked up at him, she realized that he had followed her gaze to Mrs. Seeton's book.
"Don't say anything," she whispered, painfully aware of the presence of the Ravenscrofts. “Please don't mortify me like that."
James nodded curtly, and Elizabeth felt her entire body go limp with relief. She didn't know Blake, and she hardly knew Caroline, but she couldn't bear for them to know she'd been so pathetic as to turn to a guidebook to find a husband.
Blake shut the library door behind him, then looked up at the room's occupants with a blank expression. "Er," he said, his eyes darting back and forth between Elizabeth and James, "would you like us to leave?"
"Yes," James bit off.
"No!" Elizabeth practically yelled.
"I think we should go," Blake said to his wife.
"Elizabeth wants us to stay," Caroline pointed out, "and we can't leave her here alone with him."
"It wouldn't be proper," Elizabeth hastened to add. She didn't want to be alone with James. If they were alone, he would wear her down, make her forget her anger. He'd use soft words and gentle touches, and she'd lose sight of what was true and what was right. She knew he had that power, and she hated herself for it.
"I think we're well past propriety," James retorted.
Caroline sank against the edge of a table. "Oh, dear."
Blake gave her an amused glance. "Since when have you been so concerned with propriety?"
"Since- Oh, be quiet." And then, in a hushed voice she added, "Don't you want them to marry?"
"I didn't even know she existed until ten minutes ago."
"I'm not going to marry him," Elizabeth declared, trying not to notice that her voice broke on her words. "And I'd appreciate it if the two of you would not speak as if I weren't in the room."
Caroline's eyes slid to the floor. "Sorry," she mumbled. "I hate it when people do that to me."
"I want to go home," Elizabeth said yet again.
"I know, dear," Caroline murmured, "but we really should sort this out, and-"
Someone started banging on the door.
"Go away," Blake yelled.
"You'll feel much better in the morning if we sort this out now," Caroline continued. "I promise you that-"
"QUIET!"
James's voice shook the room with so much power that Elizabeth sat down. Unfortunately, his hand was still wrapped around her sash, so she found herself gasping for air as it cut into her ribs. "James," she wheezed, "let go."
He did, although probably more out of his desire to shake his fist at everyone than anything else. "For the love of God," he thundered, "how is a man meant to think with all of this noise? Can we possibly conduct a single conversation? Just one, that we all may follow?"
"Actually," Caroline put in, probably unwisely, "if one wants to place a fine point upon it, we were discussing a single topic. Of course we were all talking at once-"
Her husband yanked her to his side with enough authority to force out a little yelp. She made no sound after that.
"I need to speak with Elizabeth," James said. "Alone."
Elizabeth's response was sure and swift. "No."
Blake started walking toward the door, dragging Caroline after him. "It's time we left, darling."
"We can't leave her here against her will/' Caroline protested. "It isn't right, and in all conscience, I cannot-''
"He's not going to hurt her," Blake interrupted.
But Caroline just hooked one of her feet around the leg of a table. "I'm not leaving her," she ground out.
Elizabeth mouthed a heartfelt “thank you'' from across the room.
"Blake…" James said, flicking his eyes over at Caroline, who had thrown her orange pumpkin arms around a wing chair.
Blake shrugged. "You'll soon learn, James, that there are times one just can't argue with one's wife."
"Well, he can learn that with some other wife," Elizabeth declared, "because I'm not marrying him."
"Fine!" James exploded, waving an angry arm at Blake and Caroline. "Stay and listen. You're likely to listen against the door, anyway. And as for you…" He turned his furious gaze on Elizabeth. "You will listen to me and you will marry me."
"See?" Caroline whispered to Blake. "I knew he'd come around and let us stay."
James turned slowly around, his neck held so tightly that his jaw was shaking. "Ravenscroft," he said to Blake, his voice dangerously controlled, "don't you ever get the urge to strangle her?"
"Oh, all the time," Blake said cheerfully. "But for the most part, I'm glad she married me instead of you."
"What?" Elizabeth screeched. "He asked her to marry him?" Her head snapped back and forth for several seconds before she managed to stop moving and fix her eyes on Caroline. "He asked you to marry him?"