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A rose by any other name still has thorns…

“I would rather you abduct me than marry me, if it’s all the same to you.”

“It isn’t.”  Kaine felt the first prick of impatience chafe his nerves, aggravated by the unexpected - but instant - effect of her squirming in his lap. Surging from the chair, he carefully resettled her on the bed.  She glared at him, her hackles rising along with her chin as he positioned her against the pillows.  Haughty. Imperious. Every inch the granddaughter of a Duke. Of a Farington.  Planting one foot against the sideboard, he leaned close, bringing his nose in line with hers.  “I do not need a ransom. What I need is a wife.”

Their eyes met, a clash of cobalt and ice.  To her credit, she didn’t blink.  “I do not intend to marry.” 

Kaine raised a brow.  “An ideological position?  Or just me?”    

“Both. How does it benefit me to go from being one man’s chattel to another?  Even a mistress has a better bargain than a wife.”