Corey McFadden (14 page)

“Why didn’t you come to the assembly tonight?”

“I think you must know why, Julian,” she said softly. She withdrew her hand from his.

“Caroline would have none of it?” he asked.

“I think that’s not for me to say,” she replied, standing and moving away from him. She stopped in front of one of the tall bookcases and stood ostensibly perusing the titles. As she was not wearing her spectacles, Julian knew she saw nothing of the books. He stared at her back, wondering what to say. She seemed so distant, so cool, not like her usual jovial self.

“Am I to wish you joy, then?” she asked, finally, keeping her back to him. “Have you come to express your happiness to me in person?”

“For what?” he responded, perplexed.

“I was led to understand that this evening you would ask my aunt for my cousin’s hand in marriage,” she said. He had to strain to hear her, but her meaning was clear enough. He was on his feet instantly, crossing the distance between them in two long strides.

“Who told that?” he asked, placing his hands on her shoulders. She flinched and twisted away, keeping her back to him. He lowered his arms slowly, waiting for her answer.

“Elspeth, please turn around,” he said softly, when it became clear she would not speak.

She shook her head, but by the hunching of her shoulders, he feared she might be crying.

“Elspeth, I have no intention of asking your cousin to marry me,” he said. Her back stiffened, but she said nothing. “I don’t know who could have told you such a thing. I know silly gossip is rampant among the
ton
, but I swear I’ve said nothing to anyone to leave the impression that my feelings for Caroline are anything but distantly cordial. Actually, they are not even that. To be candid, I do not much care for your cousin at all.” Still, she said nothing, but she raised her head. She had a sweet scent, lavender, he thought, light and lovely, just like herself.

“Actually, I had rather thought to ask if you might consider marrying me, yourself,” he finished. The words surprised him as they came out. He had not really been aware that he wanted to marry her, but now that he had said so, he realized that he had known it from the first day they had met. How could he not have known?

“How dare you?” she cried, turning to face him.

“What?” he asked, stunned. He had been about to embrace her, and her words caught him with his hands in midair.

She moved quickly away from him, stopping so that there was a little table between them.

“How dare you play with me like that,” she went on. There were tears on her cheeks and he longed to kiss them away, but for now he held still. “I have explained to you—I thought you, at least, understood. I am a simple country woman. I am not used to your silly flirtations and idle remarks. I take you seriously. When you say things like that, I believe you. Please don’t hurt me like that again,” she finished, choking out the words.

“I love you so much,” he said almost in a whisper.

“Please stop, I beg of you,” she said, lowering her head into her hands, with a sob.

“What can I do to make you believe me?” he asked, crossing the distance to her. She raised her head and just stared at him, green eyes large and swimming in pain. He reached the little table that separated them. “Will you marry me?” he asked simply.

She drew a shaky breath, then slowly shook her head in the negative.

She meant it. She was not one of those silly sorts who would refuse a man a dozen times just for the sport of it. The knowledge cut through him like a knife. “Why not?” he asked, in pain. Did she not love him then? Was he so blinded by his own sense of magnificence that he had taken it for granted any young woman would leap at the chance to be Mrs. Thorpe?

She took a deep breath. “I am not fit to be your wife, Mr. Thorpe,” she said, simply. “I think you ask me now because you feel trapped into it….”

“I am trapped by nothing, Elspeth, except by my love for you,” he interrupted.

For a moment she just stared at him. “You see, already I forget the rules, Mr. Thorpe,” she said, finally, pain in her voice. “I find myself believing you, and I know I should not. But,” she went on, “even if you think you have a certain fondness for my company, you should know that my circumstances are far beneath your own, sir.”

“You are the daughter of a gentleman, Elspeth,” he exclaimed. He longed to kick over the nasty little table that separated them, but he thought better of frightening the life out of her. He made a mental note to banish all such meaningless furnishings from his home. “More to the point,” he went on, “you are witty and wonderful, and I love you! What other circumstances need we consider?”

“I think I’ve failed to tell you the truth, sir,” she said, sadly. “My father was a gentleman, yes, but I should have made certain you understood that we are quite poor, virtually penniless, in fact.”

“Well, I am very rich. What do the state of your finances have to do with anything at all? And if you think I was unaware of your ‘penniless’ state, let me assure you that your cousin and your aunt have mentioned it repeatedly.
Ad nauseam
, in fact.”

“You would be the laughingstock of the
ton
if you were forced to settle for the likes of me, sir.”

“Do you not care for me at all then, Elspeth?” he asked softly. He felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. If she said no, however gently, he would slink away to the country and never be happy again.

“I care for you above all others on this earth, Julian!” she cried. “You must know that. I know I’m never supposed to say such things to a man, but that doesn’t matter now. I love you. I love you too much to accept this gentlemanly offer, to see you one day come to believe that you were maneuvered into marrying me, to watch you grow more and more bitter and embarrassed year after year at what a poor little bargain you have made.” She choked on these last words and buried her head in her hands again, sobbing.

It was too much! In an instant he had moved around the beastly little table. This time she did not pull away as he put his arms around her and pulled her to him. He buried his face in her soft hair. She smelled of lavender, clean and fresh, with no hint of the cloying scent so popular among the ladies of his set. His arms went around her, the satin of her dress soft and cool against his callused fingers. He could feel her arms slip around him, pressing against his back. It set off fireworks in his brain. He moved his lips across her hair, drinking in the clean scent of her, not stopping until he reached her cheek. Her skin was warm and soft. His mouth slid down, barely touching her until his lips reached hers. There, he stopped, brushing his lips softly against her own.

She did not pull away. He drank in the taste of her, sweet and soft. Gently he let his tongue push against her lips, opening them slightly. He caught her lower lip gently between his teeth and brushed it lightly with his tongue. Her lips parted beneath his and he slipped his tongue between them, just slightly. He could feel her heart pounding against his chest, in rhythm with his own. She was delicious, soft and yielding. He felt that he could drown in the feel of her. He moved his hands down her back, down, down...and then stopped. He would not drink of this nectar until he knew that she would be his wife.

Quickly he pulled back, staring at her beautiful face. Her green eyes were wide and fathomless, gazing on him with the passion he knew lay hidden in their depths. “Marry me, Elspeth,” he whispered raggedly. “I love you and no other. I need you. Please say you’ll marry me.”

“I will marry you, Julian,” she answered softly.

With a cry, he crushed her to him. “Shall I speak with your aunt tomorrow, my darling?” he whispered against her ear.

“Oh, heavens, no!” she exclaimed, starting back. “Please let’s not say anything at all to anyone. It’s my mother we must speak with first, but not my aunt, never my aunt,” she finished with a shudder.

“You’ll have to give me directions to Weston-under-Lizard, then,” he murmured, through lips that were busy again tracing a path from her ear to her mouth. She giggled and turned her face to his, her lips now seeking out his own. With a groan he pulled her to him, reveling in the heat of her, pressed up and down the length of his body. Her hands now roamed his back, insistent and sweet. He deepened the kiss, probing now with his tongue, finding hers. She gasped, then pressed herself harder to him, her tongue answering his.

“Mr. Thorpe, you promised!” cried a sharp little voice from the doorway.

They sprang apart and turned guilty eyes upon an outraged little brother,

“I shall have to challenge you now, sir,” said Harry solemnly. “You have sullied my sister. Elspeth, I am ashamed of you. Mama would be shocked at your behavior.”

He sounded so like a little man, Julian was hard pressed not to laugh, but he dared not make fun of this dear boy who, after all, was behaving far more properly than he and his beloved at this moment.

“Actually, Harry, your sister has not shamed the family at all. Nor have I sullied her. I’ll tell you the truth, but it must be kept a secret for now. Your sister has accepted my proposal of marriage. Therefore, it is permitted that I kiss her.”

“Like that?” Harry asked, dripping disgust. “That wasn’t a kiss. I thought you were eating her up.”

“Well, er...perhaps you’ll, er...” he broke off, at a loss. Next to him, Elspeth giggled. She had taken his hand and was holding it tightly. “That is, perhaps some day, when you are my age, you’ll see it somewhat differently, my boy.” Harry’s expression suggested he would never, so there.

“What did you want, brother?” asked Elspeth, gently.

“They’re coming. I heard the carriage a minute ago.”

“Good God, why didn’t you say so? Elspeth, will they come in through the front or from the mews?" he asked.

“They’ll come in through the front; then the coachman will take the carriage round back,” she answered, breathless. “We have only a minute then. Where is your carriage?”

“I sent him around the corner. They won’t see it. The coachman will pass it but as it isn’t marked, he’ll not take particular notice. Harry, get in here and shut that door.” The boy did so. “Is either your aunt or Caroline likely to come into the library before going upstairs?”

“Not terribly likely, no,” was Elspeth’s dry reply.

“Blow
out the candles, Elspeth, and everyone be very quiet.”

Elspeth leaned over and did so. Julian hoped the smell of just-snuffed candles would not carry under the door to the hall. In the dark now, he reached for her and pulled her close. He felt a small body snuggle against him on the other side, and he put a comforting arm around the boy’s shoulders.

In the space of a heartbeat they heard the sound of the front door opening, then voices raised in anger, Bettina and Caroline.

“I tell you I don’t know, Mama. He just left, that’s all. One moment he was there and then the next he was gone. I don’t know why.”

“Well, something needs to be settled here, Caroline! This has gone on too long...” her strident tones faded, and their footsteps could be heard on the stairs.

Julian could feel Harry fidget under his hand. “Shhh. Hold steady, boy,” he whispered. “We’re not out of the woods yet. What will they do now, Elspeth?”

“Argue some more,” she whispered. “Or go to bed, probably. But they’ll retreat to one or the other’s bedroom. If we hear doors close and wait a bit, we should be safe.”

They stood quietly in the dark. Julian felt a bit foolish until he felt Elspeth’s fingers tracing up his chest. Abandoning Harry, he slid his arms around Elspeth and pulled her close, finding her lips in the dark with unerring instinct. The kiss was long and deep, and would have been utterly delicious, had not the boy decided to tug on Julian’s coattail in the middle of things.

“I heard two doors close, sir,” Harry whispered. “I think it will be safe for you to go now.”

“Don’t think I want to,” Julian murmured softly into Elspeth’s hair.

“You’d best get out while you can, Mr. Thorpe,” she said, giggling and pushing him away.

“How will you get upstairs after I leave?” he asked, sliding his hands down her arms to take her hands in his own.

“We’ll take a book, and slip upstairs, Harry and I. If we’re spotted, I’ll say Harry had a nightmare and I’m planning to read him to sleep.”

Julian nodded. Elspeth was clever. He liked the way she could turn her mind to practical solutions. Few woman of his acquaintance claimed to be able to think at all, except to plot matrimony.

“Harry, open the door just a crack, and see if there’s any light in the hallway,” Julian said. His callused fingers rubbed her soft hands.

He heard a small squeak and as the door was opened, he could make out the slightest line of light, probably from street lamps outside the windows of the drawing room across the hallway. “All clear, sir,” came Harry’s excited little whisper in the dark. No doubt this would become a tale for him to tell his grandchildren some day.
The Unusual Marriage Proposal to My Sister.

Clutching Elspeth to him, Julian gave her one more kiss, hard and brief. “I’ll see you tomorrow, my darling,” he whispered, then slipped away from her. He paused at the doorway, giving Harry’s head an affectionate pat. The boy meant well. He just had a bad habit of showing up at the most inconvenient times.

The hallway was dark, both on this floor and the one above, with no faint light spilling around any of the corners. Praying that the front door would not squeak, Julian made his way to it, only to be confronted with an elaborate set of locks, which Bettina had obviously thrown before going upstairs. “Harry, come help,” Julian whispered, figuring any nine-year-old boy worth his salt knew how to open a lock in the dark. Little hands pushed his away and he heard bolts slide and tumblers fall. Bless the well-oiled machinery, Julian thought. The door opened and a cool breeze hit his face. “Lock it behind me, son,” Julian whispered, then he was through, Harry shutting the door behind him.

Outside, Julian waited on the steps while he heard the locks slide into place. He took a deep breath. His heart was singing as he descended the steps. It was not until he turned the corner and spied his carriage that he allowed himself a great triumphant shout.