Caroline concentrated on his earlier remark. She couldn't believe his audacity. "A compliment? Ha! You tell me there's something between us," she returned, "but it is only a physical attraction, nothing more. Do you actually believe I would give myself to you because of such a paltry reason? I would not marry you," Caroline stated emphatically. "You tell me that you want a loyal, trustworthy, loving woman," she rushed on, "but you don't display any of those qualities."

"And how would you know that?" Bradford demanded.

Caroline was too upset to be intimidated by his stare. "First, you suggest that I become your mistress. And all because we are attracted to each other."

"Why else would I want you for my mistress?" Bradford asked, trying to make sense of her logic. "And I did not ask you to become my mistress." He was yelling now and didn't care who heard him.

"Oh, but you would have. Second, you are too egotistical for my liking. I look beyond appearances, my lord. I will marry someone who is considerate. And he won't be an Englishman."

"What the hell's wrong with being English?" Bradford bellowed. His anger suddenly, magically vanished and he found himself laughing. She had the disdain reversed, for God's sake. It was the English who detested the colonists and not the other way around. "Have you forgotten that you just happen to be English too?"

Caroline chose to ignore his question. "Most of the English uppercrust are disloyal," Caroline answered. She was trying to infuriate him and knew that she was failing miserably. His laughter bothered her and she had trouble continuing. The anger he had earlier displayed was far more welcome, and the sudden shift didn't make sense. Caroline felt off balance again. "Most have turned against their own king in his time of need. His own son tried to betray him once and will, no doubt, try again. Why are you laughing? Don't you know when you are being insulted?" Caroline ended her tirade, feeling as wilted as a freshly cut flower left out in the sun too long.

"Now I believe that it is my turn to speak," Bradford stated with firmness. "First, I will tell you why I want you."

"I don't care why you want me," Caroline objected. She glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone was listening to their conversation and then looked back at her adversary. "I imagine," she whispered, "from the way that you kissed me, that you lust for… that you want my body." She blushed but couldn't help herself.

"I admit that I do want you in my bed. You're a very beautiful woman."

"That is not significant," Caroline snapped out. Bradford realized, from the way she stated it, that she really didn't know how lovely she was. It was a refreshing observation. Most women used their looks as weapons to obtain whatever they wanted.

"Do you know that you make me laugh?" he asked.

Caroline waited for him to go on but when he didn't, she let her frustration show. "Of course I know that I make you laugh " she said with exasperation in her voice. "You have just finished laughing at me. I'm not deaf. And I imagine that most of the people inside heard you laughing too," she added with a scowl.

"I wasn't laughing at you," Bradford insisted. He tried for a serious expression and failed miserably. "But with you."

"Then why wasn't I laughing?" Caroline challenged. "Don't be diplomatic with me. It's wasted effort. Since you insist on honesty, then I will give you a full portion. I don't want to be attracted to you. I am a person who likes to be in control and I won't stand for being overpowered or frightened by anyone. Therefore, since you are overbearing and quite arrogant, intimidating and overpowering, we would not get on well at all. I am afraid you will just have to want someone else. Someone meek, I think, who wouldn't mind being run over all the time. Would you like me to help you find someone suitable? You have given me some of your requirements." Her eyes got that peculiar look again and Bradford found himself eager to hear her next remark. "You want someone loyal, trustworthy, loving, and-oh, yes! I almost forgot. Someone you can laugh at."

"You forget honesty," Bradford interjected with a grin. He was smiling inside, too, for Caroline, aware of it or not, had given him hope. She had acknowledged that she was afraid of him. Bradford interpreted that to mean that she was afraid of her reaction to him. He felt new confidence over that information.

"Of course, she must be honest," Caroline agreed with a nod. "Now then, for your perfect woman do you prefer a lady with blonde hair or brown? Blue eyes or hazel? Short of stature or tall? Only tell me and I will go inside and have a look around."

"Black hair, with angry violet eyes," Bradford stated. "And her height should be somewhere between short and tall."

"You have described me," Caroline answered. "I'm not perfect, milord. I do have faults."

"I am aware of several," Bradford told her. He couldn't resist her a second longer and quickly leaned down to kiss her.

Caroline didn't have time to resist, as the kiss was over before she could do more than blink. She pushed him away. "You are aware of my faults?" she asked, pretending that the kiss had not happened.

"You dislike the Irish and the English, laugh at inopportune times, have quite a temper, and jump to conclusions that aren't always correct," Bradford answered. "Should I continue?"

"No, you should not," Caroline returned. "But you are incorrect in your list. I don't dislike all the Irish or all the English, only the rude ones. I do have a temper and I do laugh at inopportune times, but I am working on both these flaws. I rarely jump to conclusions that are not accurate. But you appear to be too arrogant to admit to any faults and are therefore in much sorrier shape."

"Your honesty overwhelms me," Bradford returned with a grin. "And your humility almost brings me to my knees." His chuckle was rich and totally unappreciated by his adversary. Bradford realized that if he continued to bait her he certainly wouldn't further his cause, yet he couldn't seem to help himself. He hadn't had this much fun in years.

"I don't believe anyone could bring you to your knees," Caroline remarked. She smiled then and Bradford shook his head.

"You're enjoying the picture of it though, aren't you?" he asked.

"I am," Caroline answered. "We must get back inside before we are missed."

Bradford let her believe that there was a possibility that they had not been observed leaving together. He knew the truth, that by now everyone inside was whispering speculations and spreading tales. Nothing of importance was missed by the hawk eyes of most of the ladies inside. And from past experience, the Duke of Bradford knew that anything he did caused gossip.

Caroline's reputation wouldn't be soiled because he was paying attention to her. Besides, if he educated her in this matter, she would insist on returning to her father's side. He wanted only a minute longer with her, he told himself, just one more minute alone.

"We shouldn't have kissed and we shouldn't have spoken with such familiarity to one another. We don't know each other well enough to confide such things," Caroline stated. She was about to tell him that she hoped he would forget the entire conversation, but Bradford's next remark threw her off balance once again.

"I know all about you," he boasted. "You have lived with your aunt and uncle on a farm outside of Boston for the last fourteen years. Your uncle has embraced Boston as his home and has turned his back on England. Your cousin, Charity, is more like a sister to you. Though she is older, by six months, she follows your lead most of the time. Your father, the Earl of Braxton, is now considered eccentric and has lived as a recluse for many years. You are handy with pistols though at one time you used to get physically ill whenever you touched one. You considered that a flaw and worked until you overcame it. Is that enough for you? Are you convinced that I know all about you or should I continue?"