She made her tone flat. ‘What a surprise.’
His thick dark brows knitted. ‘I—I have come from your father. I called upon him.’
‘My father?’ Her voice rose in pitch. ‘Why on earth would you wish to see my father?’ She had not even known Leo was in London.
He paused before closing the distance between them and his hazel eyes pleaded. ‘Will you walk with me?’
She glanced over at Penny, who was raptly attending this encounter. Mariel forced herself to face him again. ‘I can think of no reason why I should.’
He reached out and almost touched her. Even though his hand made no contact, she felt its heat. ‘Please, Mariel. Your father would not listen. I must speak with you. Not for my sake, but for yours.’
For her sake?
She ought to refuse. She ought to send him packing with a proper set-down. She ought to turn on her heel and walk into her house and leave him gaping in her wake.
Instead she said, ‘Very well. But be brief.’
He offered her his arm, but rather than accept it, she turned to Penny. ‘You must follow.’
Leo frowned. ‘I need to speak with you alone.’
Mariel lifted her chin. ‘Then speak softly so she does not hear, but do not ask me to go with you unchaperoned.’
He nodded.
They crossed Park Lane and entered Hyde Park through the Cumberland gate. The park was in its full glory, lush with greenery and flowers and chirping birds.
He led her to one of the footpaths. It was too early in the afternoon for London society to gather in carriages and on horseback for the fashionable hour. The footpath was empty. Once Mariel would have relished finding a quiet place where they could be private for a few moments. She would have pretended that nothing existed in the world but the two of them. This day, however, it made her feel vulnerable. She was glad Penny walked a few steps behind them.
Off the path was a bench, situated in an alcove surrounded by shrubbery, making it more secluded than the path itself.
Leo gestured to the bench. ‘Please, sit.’
‘No.’ Mariel checked to make certain Penny remained nearby. ‘Speak to me here and be done with it.’
He was so close she could smell the scent that was uniquely his, the scent that brought back too many memories. Of happy days when she’d contrived to meet Leo in this park. They’d strolled through its gardens and kindled their romance.
He faced her again and she became acutely aware of the rhythm of his breathing and of the tension in his muscles as he stood before her. ‘I will be blunt, because I have not time to speak with more delicacy.’
His tone surprised her.
‘Please do be blunt,’ she responded sarcastically.
She wanted to remain cold to him. She wanted not to care about anything he wished to say to her.
It was impossible.
Amidst the grass and shrubs and trees, his eyes turned green as he looked down on her. ‘You must not marry Lord Kellford.’
She was taken aback. ‘I am astonished you even know of my betrothal, let alone assume the right to speak of it.’
He averted his gaze for a moment. ‘I know I have no right. I tried to explain to your father, but he failed to appreciate the seriousness of the situation.’
She made a scornful laugh. ‘I assure you, my father takes this impending marriage very seriously. He is delighted at the match. Who would not be? Kellford is such a charming man.’
His eyes flashed. ‘Kellford’s charm is illusory.’
She lifted her chin. ‘Is it? Still, he meets my father’s approval.’
He riveted her with his gaze again. ‘I tried to tell him the man Kellford is. Your father would not listen, but you must.’
A frisson of anxiety prickled her spine. With difficulty, she remained steady. ‘If you have something to tell me about Kellford, say it now and be done with it.’
He glanced away. ‘Believe me. I never would have chosen to speak this to you—’
His words cut like a sabre. He preferred to avoid her? As if she’d not realised that already. He’d avoided her for two years.
She folded her arms across her chest and pretended she did not feel like weeping. ‘Tell me, so you do not have to stay a moment longer than is tolerable.’
His eyes darted back and flared with a heat she did not understand. ‘I will make it brief.’
Mariel’s patience wore thin. ‘Please do.’
His eyes pinned her once more. ‘What do you know of the Marquis de Sade?’
Was he changing the subject? ‘I do not know the Marquis de Sade. What has he to do with Kellford?’
He shifted. ‘You would not know him. And I suppose no gently bred young woman would have heard of him….’
‘Then why mention him?’ Why this roundaboutation? ‘Do you have a point to this?’
‘I dislike having to speak of it,’ he snapped.
Enough. She turned to walk away.
He caught her by the arm and pulled her back. Their gazes met and Mariel felt as if every nerve in her body had been set afire. She saw in his eyes that he, too, was affected by the touch.
He released her immediately. ‘The Marquis de Sade wrote many … books, which detailed scandalous acts, acts he is said to have engaged in himself.’
‘Scandalous acts?’ Where was this leading?
He nodded. ‘Between … between men and women.’ His eyes remained steady. ‘De Sade derived carnal pleasure from inflicting pain on women. It was his way of satisfying manly desires.’
Mariel’s cheeks burned. No man—not even Leo—had spoken to her of such matters before. ‘I do not understand.’
He went on. ‘For some men the pleasure that should come … in the normal way … only comes if they cause the woman pain.’
She’d heard that lovemaking—at least the first time—could be painful, but he didn’t seem to be talking about that. ‘What pain?’
He did not waver. ‘Some men use whips. Some burn with hot pokers. Others merely use their fists.’ His cheek twitched. ‘Sometimes the woman is bound by ropes or chains. Sometimes she is deprived of food or water.’
Her stomach roiled. ‘Why do you say this to me?’
His features twisted in pain. ‘Because
