“And I’ll sulk if I want to,” she muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She glared at him, crossing her arms tightly across her chest. “You shouldn’t be here.”

He flicked his hand palm up through the air as if to say (with great sarcasm), Oh, really?

She looked at his hand, and then at his face. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You just spent the better part of a week in my bedroom.”

“You were almost dead!”

She had a rather good point, but he was not prepared to admit it. “Now see here,” he said, getting back to the point that actually mattered, “I was doing you a favor when I asked Bridgerton to leave.”

Her mouth fell open in outrage. “You—”

“He is not the sort of person with whom you should be associating,” he said, cutting her off.

“What?”

“Will you keep your voice down?” he hissed.

“I wasn’t making noise until you came in,” she hissed right back.

He took a step forward, unable to keep his body entirely in check. “He is not the right man for you.”

“I never said he was! Lady Danbury brought him over.”

“She is a menace.”

“You said that already.”

“It bears repeating.”

She scrambled—finally!—off the bed. “What on earth is so ‘menacing’ about introducing me to Colin Bridgerton?”

“Because she was trying to make me jealous!” he fairly yelled.

They both went absolutely silent, and then, after a quick look toward the open door, he hastily went over and shut it.

When he turned back to Honoria, she was standing so still he could see her swallow. Her eyes were huge in her face—that owlish stare of hers that had always unnerved him. In the flickering candlelight, they glowed nearly silver, and he felt himself almost mesmerized.

She was beautiful. He knew that already, but it hit him again, with a force that nearly knocked him to his knees.

“Why would she want to do that?” she asked softly.

He clamped his teeth together in an attempt not to answer, but finally he said, “I don’t know.”

“Why would she think she could do it?” Honoria pressed.

“Because she thinks she can do anything,” Marcus said desperately. Anything to avoid telling the truth. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell her he loved her, but this wasn’t the time. This wasn’t the way he wanted to do it.

She swallowed again, the movement painfully exaggerated by the stillness of the rest of her. “And why do you think it’s your job to select which men I do and do not associate with?”

He didn’t say anything.

“Why, Marcus?”

“Daniel asked me to,” he said in a tight, even voice. He wasn’t ashamed of it. He wasn’t even ashamed of not having told her. But he did not appreciate being backed into a corner.