"The truth is that I want you. I have wanted you, and you know that." "I that word," she burst out, trying unsuccessfully to break free of his grasp. "I don't think you know what it means." "I know you say it every time you force yourself on me." "And every time I do, you melt in my arms." "I will not marry you," Elizabeth said furiously, mentally circling for some way out. "I don't know you. I don't trust you." "But you want me," he told her with a knowing smile. "Stop that, damn you! I an old husband, I told you that," she cried, mindlessly saying anything she could think of to put him off. "I want my life to be mine. I told you that, too. And you came dashing to England and-and me." That brought her up short, and her eyes began to blaze. "No," he stated firmly, though it was splitting hairs, "I made a settlement on your uncle." The tears she'd been fighting valiantly to hide began to spill over her lashes. "I am not a pauper," she cried. "I am not a p-pauper," she repeated, her voice choking with tears. "I have-had-a dowry, damn you. And if you were so stu-stupid you let him swindle you out of it, it serves you right!"