Harry sighed now. He must be weary of her badgering him. “It’s not going to work, my lady. You and me. You must know that, and you’ll agree with me soon.” His voice was low and calm. Reasonable.

Hers was not.

“I won’t!” George cried like a small child told she must go to bed. All she lacked was the stomp of one foot.

Oh, Lord, she knew she was making herself ugly. But she couldn’t stop. Couldn’t help pleading and whining and pestering. The thought of never seeing Harry again brought blind panic flooding into her chest.

She took a deep breath and tried to speak more sedately. “We could get married. I love—”

“No!” He slammed his hand against the wall, the sound like a cannon shot in the room.

She stared at him. She knew damn well Harry loved her. She knew by the way he said my lady so low it was almost a purr. The way his eyes lingered when he looked at her. The way he had made love to her so intently before he’d been injured. Why couldn’t he—?

He shook his head. “No, I’m sorry, my lady.”

Tears started in her eyes. She rubbed them away. “You can at least do me the favor of explaining why you don’t think we should marry. Because I just can’t see why not.”

“Why? Why?” Harry laughed sharply. “How about this reason: If I married you, my lady, the whole of England would think I did it for your money. And how exactly would we work out the money part? Eh? Would you give me a quarterly allowance?” He stood with his hands on his hips and stared at her.

“It wouldn’t have to be that way.”

“No? Perhaps you’d like to sign all your money over to me?”

She hesitated for a fatal second.

“No, of course not.” He flung up his arms. “So I’d be your pet monkey. Your male whore. Do you even think any of your friends would invite me to dine with them? That your family would accept me?”

“Yes. Yes, they would.” She stuck out her jaw. “And you’re not—”

“Aren’t I?” There was pain in his green eyes.

“No, never,” she whispered. She held out her hands in supplication. “You know you’re not that to me. You’re much more. I love—”

“No.”

But she spoke over him this time. “You. I love you, Harry. I love you. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Of course it does.” He closed his eyes. “It’s all the more reason not to let you be pilloried by society.”

“It won’t be as bad as all that. And even if it was, I don’t care.”