Why did everyone find it so unbelievable that Jane would wed a man like Hugh? She'd kissed him in the coach like she was bloody well wed to him. Hugh placed his hand on her nape, an obvious sign of possession.

Jane shot him a look that promised reprisal. "I wanted five minutes."

"Get in the carriage. Now." When she only gaped at his command, Hugh leaned in and told her in a low tone, "Do it, or he's going to get more than a tap this time."

In a rush, she took Bidworth's hand and briefly shook it. "I'll write, Freddie," she said, then hurried to the coach.

When she paused outside, Hugh told Bidworth, "Doona follow us. Doona come near her again. Forget you even know her."

"D-do you have…" Bidworth swallowed and began again, "Do you have a-any idea who I am?"

The miserable coward,Hugh thought with disbelief, grappling for control of his temper. He had expected a jilted suitor, especially one nearly engaged to a woman like Jane, would be a threat waiting in the wings.

Not a threat. Not even giving Hugh a serious argument.

"Aye, I ken who you are. You're the man who's letting a woman likethat go without a fight." If Hugh had been in Bidworth's position—able to have a life with Jane without risking dire consequences—he'd have fought off a bloody legion before handing her over to another man. A real brawl, with mud flying and blood spraying.

For Jane as a prize, he would have spit blood with a grin on his face.

"You doona deserve her, and you sure as hell could no' have handled her," he snapped. Leaving Bidworth floundering for words, Hugh turned to the coach, scowling as Jane climbed in instead of waiting for him to help her. When he joined her inside and the coach began to roll along, she waved at Bidworth until he was out of sight. Long after, she continued to gaze out the window, her little hands in fists. If Hugh ever expected a woman to cry, it'd be now.

Jane had rarely cried when younger. On the few occasions when she had, he'd been at an utter loss. Seeing she was on the verge, he ran his hand over the back of his neck, realizing that hadn't changed. "If you wanted him so badly, why did you no' fight for him? You've always gotten your way in the past."

"This is your fault," she snapped at him, "this entire situation. If Father hadn't been able toorder up another lackey bridegroom so handily, he would have let me marry Freddie."

"You blame me more than your father, who arranged all this? More than yourself, who agreed to go through with it? Maybe you might blame Grey?"

"Why did Father pick you? You weren't even in London. I demand to know what is really going on! Is this some scheme you and he cooked up to get me to marry you?"

"As I said, I dinna go to your home thinking I'd be leaving with a bride. I never asked your father for you."

"So I'm actually supposed to believe that Grey might do violence to me. The business of imports must be spectacularly dangerous. And all this time I never knew the risks Father was taking."

Hugh said nothing.

"Look me in the eye and tell me Grey's unhinged and might hurt me."

Hugh met her eyes. "I can say with absolute certainty that Grey is soft in the mind and has dangerous intent, probably toward you."

"Grey was always nice to me," she muttered.

"I'll bet he was." When Grey became increasingly crazed, his taunts to Hugh always involved Jane. He'd known that she was Hugh's one weakness. "Did Grey ever say or do anything odd to you? Show an untoward interest in you?"

"No, I wasn't around him that often." She shivered. "Why would he want to do something so drastic?"

"He was becoming unstable. Your father broke off ties with him and ordered an action—something that was within his right to do—that furthered Grey's ruin."

"What do you mean by 'an action'? What kind of ruin? Where doyou fit into this?"

Weyland had again stressed that he didn't want Jane to know anything about the Network until they'd confirmed that the list had indeed been made public. Until then, Hugh was supposed to brush aside her questions, or lie. As Hugh wanted to avoid telling her of his own role, he'd readily agreed. Unfortunately, he found it impossible to lie to her. He needed some time to get his bearings with her, to find a way to deter her questions. "You're keen on interrogating me, but I doubt you'd answer questions so readily."

"Ask me anything!"

"Why did you wait so long to marry?" She'd had plenty of opportunities, had had offers when she was still a young lass and a coming-out ball when she was nineteen.

"I hadn't found the right man," she answered in a that'll-show-you tone.

"Bidworthwas the right man?"

"He has all the qualifications I'm looking for. Every single one of them."

"Like what?" he asked.

"He's gentle and kind and considerate." At Hugh's bored look, her eyes narrowed. "He's blond, with a face that makes women swoon, and he's titled and popular and rich."

If these were the traits she was looking for, Hugh had never had a chance with her, family curse or not. "Bidworth's cowardly," he said. After meeting the man, however briefly, Hugh knew Weyland had been right not to let her marry the earl—he could never protect Jane.

His comment got her going. "Just because he didn't call you out over this doesn't mean Freddie isn't brave! He's a peer of the realm and a proper British gentleman—who'sabove issuing a challenge on the side of the toll road!"

Hugh supposed there were advantages to being a brutish Scot with no title.

"Freddie's a wonderful man, all around," she continued. "And your attacking him today? My Lord, Hugh, what has gotten into you?"

"He should never have kissed you in public—"

"Ikissedhim ."

Twist that knife, Jane, he thought.That's right, lass, from twelve o'clock to three.

"And what about provoking him just now?" she asked. "He woke up this morning thinking I was his. Yet you threw this marriage in his face as if this means something to you."

"No worse than you throwing yourself at him on the side of the road."

She gasped. "I didn't throw myself at him! Iembraced him in farewell. Which would be expected, since Freddie and I have been seeing each other foryears !"

"Aye, but during those years, you likely were no' panting in another man's lap, returning his kisses, just moments before."

Her lips parted wordlessly, as if she'd only just realized she couldn't deny it.

"Jane, even if this marriage of ours is a farce, it's binding until it's ended. Never touch another man in front of me. Unless you want him dead."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Why, Hugh, you sound jealous, which we know can't be true."

It was undeniably true. In this one day, Hugh had felt more jealousy clawing at his gut than in his entire life before. If they'd been truly committed, perhaps he wouldn't have felt it to such a blistering degree just now—but there was no foundation for them. They were embroiled in a sham. He'd given her his name but could expect nothing back.

The situation was maddening. How had he found himself agreeing to it, when all his instincts screamed against it? He'd been well aware that he was being maneuvered—and yet, he'd allowed it.

Hugh had never been one to lose his temper or react impulsively. Now he felt he was losing control. What was it about Jane that made him feel primitive and possessive? He'd felt compelled to bare his teeth at Bidworth—or to hit him again, just for pleasure.

Men like Hugh could not afford to lose control. Grey wasn't the first of their kind to succumb to darker impulses. "And doona tease me any longer. Lass, you play with fire."

"If you can't stand my teasing, you never should have agreed to this. It's not as if you haven't experienced it before or didn't know what to expect when Iwarned you not to go along with this!"