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truth. Does it satisfy you?"
Lyon nodded, giving her the impression he understood what she was talking
about. He knew in that moment that nothing the woman ever said to him in the
future would confuse him. No, he'd just reached his limit. A man could only
take so many surprises, he told himself.
Then he tried to concentrate on the new puzzle she'd handed him. "Are you
telling me you'll try to kill me once we're wed, but because I can defend
myself, you might not be able to accomplish the deed? And that is why you're
marrying me?"
He had to shake his head when he'd finished his illogical conclusions.
"Of course not," Christina answered. "How shameful of you to think I'd want to
harm you. You've a devious mind, Lyon."
"All right," he said, clasping his hands behind his back. "I apologize for
jumping to such unsavory conclusions."
Christina looked suspicious. "Well, I would hope so," she muttered. "I shall
accept your apology," she added grudgingly. "You look contrite enough to make
me believe you're sincere."
Lyon vowed he wasn't going to lose his patience. He wasn't as certain about
his mind, however. Christina was making mincemeat out of all his thoughts. God
help him, he was going to get a clear answer out of her, no matter how long it
took. "Christina," he began, keeping his voice soothing enough to lull an
infant, "since you've decided I'm not an easy man to kill—and I do
appreciate your faith in me, by the way—do you happen to know who's
going to try?"
"Try what?"
"To kill me."
The man really needed to learn how to control his temper. Christina had just
opened the door again. She smiled at Aunt Harriett, saw the poor woman was
about to speak, but shut the door in her face before she could get a word out.
She didn't want the woman to overhear her answer.
"My father. He's coming back to England. He'll try to kill me. I promise to
protect you, Lyon, for as long as I'm here. When I go away again, he'll leave
you alone."
"Christina, if he's going to try to kill you, why do you think to protect me?"
"Oh, he'll have to kill you first. It's the only way he'll be able to get to
me," she reasoned. "You're a very possessive man, Lyon. Yes, you are," she
added when she thought he was about to protest. "You'll guard me."
Lyon was suddenly feeling extremely pleased but didn't have the faintest idea
why. Had she just given him a compliment? He couldn't be sure.
He decided to make certain. "Then you trust me," he announced.
She looked astonished. "Trust a white man? Never."
Christina jerked the door open and set about smoothing the bluster out of Aunt
Harriett. It was a difficult undertaking, for her mind was still occupied with
Lyon's outrageous conclusion. Trust him? Where in God's name had he come by
that ridiculous notion?
"It's about time, young lady. A woman could grow old waiting for you."
"Aunt Harriett, I appreciate your patience. And you were so right. A good talk
with Lyon has resolved all my worries. Will you show me to my room now? I
would like to help the maid unpack my gowns. Do you think there's enough room
here for my aunt when she returns to London next week? The Countess will be
displeased when she learns I've moved away."
Her ploy worked. Aunt Harriett immediately lost her puzzled expression. The
urge to take charge overrode all other considerations. "Of course I was right.
Now come along with me. Did you know Diana has invited several people over for
the afternoon? Quite a number have already arrived. They're all very anxious
to meet you, Christina."
The door clicked shut on Aunt Harriett's enthusiastic remarks.
Lyon walked back over to the windows. He saw the gathering in the garden
below, then dismissed the guests from his mind.
The puzzle was taking shape. Lyon concentrated on the new item he believed to
be true. Christina did think her father was going to come back to England.
To kill her.
The frightened look in her eyes, the way her voice had trembled, told him she
was, for once, giving him the truth. She knew far more than she was telling,
however. Lyon guessed the only reason she'd admitted that much to him was to
put him on his guard.
She was trying to protect him. He didn't know if he should feel insulted or
happy. She had taken on his duty. But she was right. He was possessive.
Christina belonged to him, and he wasn't about to let anyone harm her. They'd
have to kill him first in order to get to her.
How had she ever come by such conclusions about her father? Lyon remembered
how emphatic Sir Reynolds had been when he told him Christina had never even
met her father.
None of it made sense, unless Christina's mother had lived longer than anyone
believed and had handed down her fears to her daughter… or possibly
left the fears with someone else.
Who had raised Christina? It surely wasn't the
Summertons, Lyon thought with a smile. What a little liar she was. Though he
should have been furious with her for deceiving him, he was actually amused.
He sensed she'd fabricated the story just to placate him.
How simple it would be if only she'd tell him the whole truth. Christina
wouldn't, of course, but at least now he understood her reason. She didn't
trust him.
No, he corrected himself, she didn't trust white men.
She'd meant to say Englishmen… or had she?
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