“You cannot do anything so – despicable – so utterly – heartless,” Atalanta muttered.
“It is entirely up to you,” William answered. “Either you marry me as we arranged, Atalanta, or your family will suffer.”
Atalanta was silent and he went on,
“As for you, if I catch you seeing this Impressionist swine again, I will whip you as I would whip a disobedient dog. You have been spoilt, Atalanta. Your family has always allowed you too much licence for a young girl.”
His lips tightened.
“Furthermore now you will behave with the propriety I expect of my future wife. It will not be long before we marry and until then I will see that you are very much more strictly chaperoned than you have been up to now.”
Atalanta could not answer him and his eyes narrowed until they seemed to be mere slits.
