She let him kiss her again, but when he raised his head, flung off his arms, and sprang up. "Of all the absurd situations I ever was in! To be made love to before breakfast! Abominable!"
He too rose, and caught and grasped her hands, holding them in a grip that made her grimace. "Will you marry me?"
"I don't know, I don't know!" Go to Ghent: I won't 'ne swept off my feet!" She gave a gurgle of laughter, and burlesqued herself: "You must give me time to consider, Colonel Audley! Lord, did you ever hear anything so Bath-missish? Let me go: you don't possess :ne, you know."
"Give me an answer!" he said.
"No, and no! Do you think I must marry where I kiss? They don't mean anything, my kisses."
His grip tightened on her hands. "Be quiet! You shall not talk so!"
Her mouth mocked him bitterly. "You've drawn such a pretty picture of me for yourself, and the truth is I'm a rake."
He turned from her in silence to lead up her horse. With the knowledge that she had hurt him an unaccustomed pain seized her. "Now you see how odious I can be!" she said in a shaking voice.
He glanced over his shoulder, and said gently: "My poor dear!"
She gave a twisted smile, but said nothing until he had brought her horse to her. He put her into the saddle, and she bent towards him, and touched his cheek with her gloved hand. "Go to Ghent. Dear Charles!"