The Governess Affair (Brothers Sinister 0.5)

"Do you not understand what happened to you?" Freddy glared at her. "You suffered a fate worse than death, and still you—"
"I am alive," Serena said. "My child is alive. I intend to carry on living. Can you say that much?"

...

"You always put things at risk. If you fell out of a tree as a child, I'd clean you up and bandage your knees, and next I looked you'd be out climbing again. You never learned your lesson."
Oh, she'd learned her lesson: Climb harder.

...

How could they be sisters? It seemed impossible that they should view the world with such fundamentally different eyes.

... he wrote to her again:
You can call me your friend if you like, but I think of you when I stroke myself. When last I checked, that points to feelings that are decidedly mote than friendly. Have I horrified you to much?

He waited days for her reply. When it finally came he read it instantly:
Sir: I am a respectably married woman. I cannot express in words the horror and revulsion that arise in me upon reading the sentiments you have communicaited.

Hugo raised his head from the letter. But he hadn't finished, and some penchant for punishment force him to continue:
Your letter only underscored my own failings. After all, as your wife, it is my duty to stroke you. Is it not?

Safe, her dastardly senses whispered. He’s safe. There was something comforting about his forthright recital—comfort with an edge that only sharpened when he took a step closer to her.

“If I were a cobbler,” he said, “I’d offer you a discount on shoes.”

“Now you’ve completely lost your mind.”

“No. It would give me an excuse to measure your feet with my bare hands.” His lip twitched up. “And don’t think I’d stop at your toes.”

She had both her hands on top of his walking stick. She felt herself lean toward him, ever so slightly.

“But you’re not,” she said. “You’re the Wolf of Clermont, and I’m the woman you cannot drive away.”

“Can’t is such an unforgiving word,” he said. “I prefer do not wish to.”

This was a man who had walked away from his family at fourteen. He had a reputation for getting what he wanted.

But there was so much more to him than the boorish drone she’d once envisioned. He had talked about crushing her hopes and dreams, but when he stood next to her, he drove away the despair she’d carried for so long.

Before she could lose her nerve, Serena made a fist and delivered an extremely rude gesture. He stood at the window, stock-still, before turning away.

She received his note not two minutes later. She opened it, her heart pounding. But there were only two words on the paper.

Marry me.

Before she could lose her nerve, Serena made a fist and delivered an extremely rude gesture. He stood at the window, stock-still, before turning away.

She received his note not two minutes later. She opened it, her heart pounding. But there were only two words on the paper.

Marry me.

"Surely you've heard of him. They call him the Wolf of Clermont."

"They - what?" He pulled back.

"The Wolf of Clermont," she repeated. "The duke hires him to get things done, things that an ordinary man, fettered by a conscience, would not do."

She shook her head slowly. "No, Mr. Marshall. I will not be browbeaten, however nicely you do it. I am done with things happening to me. From here on out, I am going to happen to things."

Marry me.

She stared at the page for a few moments longer, struggling to make sense of it all. He'd threatened her sister. He'd threatened her well-being. But this...this was, perhaps, the most sinister thing that he'd said.

It reminded her of the foolish, inexplicable sense of security that she felt in his presence, of the sense of attraction that pulsed between them. Those words took her most vulnerable self and made a mockery of her desires.

...

Serena raised her chin, and scrawled her response.

I was wondering when you would start threatening me with fates worse than death. Congratulations, Mr. Marshall. I am now officially frightened.