Dreamspinner (10 page)

“Perhaps I shouldn’t have spoken so boldly a moment ago.” She hesitated. “Please understand, I’m not retracting my words. I just don’t want a quarrel to spoil our last day together.”

The tilt of her chin displayed courage, a courage he couldn’t help but admire.
Emily would never have had the fortitude to face you so squarely. Or to acknowledge her passion so openly.

The comparison pricked him into stiff formality. “For pity’s sake, if anyone’s erred here, it was me. I spoke out of turn. I treated you like less than the lady you are.”

“Is that really why you walked away, Kent? Because you made a mistake?” Her hands clenched convulsively. “Or because you can’t accept my feelings?”

He focused his gaze on a crimson cabbage rose embellishing the drapery. “You’re too young to know your own mind.”

“And that’s too pat an answer.” She stepped in front of him, forcing him to look at her. “You’ve not considered me too young these past weeks. You enjoyed my company. Why else would you have courted me?”

How the bloody hell could he answer
that?
“Juliet, I never wanted to hurt you—”

“Unless this all has to do with my father.”

She looked stunned at the thought. His chest tightened. He couldn’t bear for her to guess his diabolical plan; he couldn’t bear for her to hate him. “He has nothing to do with us.”

“I wonder.” Angry suspicion shadowed her eyes. “You’ve befriended me, yet you’ve not made any attempt to settle your differences with Papa.”

“You saw what happened the one time I did. He’s never going to change.”

“Because you’ll never give him the chance. Perhaps Papa was right. Perhaps you only want to ruin my reputation.”

His mouth went dry; he could only stare at her.

She gave him a measuring look, a look that made him feel hollow and vile, as if he’d fallen far short of her expectations. “I see. Thank you for at least being gentleman enough to tell me you’re leaving tomorrow.”

She walked away, her carriage stiff as she bent to collect the hairpins scattered over the sofa. Her bitter dignity sliced into his heart. In numb silence he watched her coil the long strands of hair atop her head, then don the jaunty straw bonnet. As she walked to the desk to collect her gloves, the sight of her slim back and exquisite profile twisted his belly with a confusing mix of tenderness and desire and panic. If she walked out now, he’d never see her again. God! How could he let her go?

Yet what right had he to keep her?

An idea seized his mind, a solution so stunning and so perfect, he wondered why he’d not considered it before. He could give Juliet at least part of what she wanted. He could sate the hunger gnawing at his loins. And he could still punish Emmett Carleton by stealing what he valued most.

Without looking his way, she headed to the door.

“Don’t go.”

She turned, her face pale but composed. “There’s nothing more to say, Kent.”

“That’s not true.” His palms broke out in a cold sweat. He couldn’t let himself think she’d be happier with a man who would shower her with love. He couldn’t give himself time to consider that he might be making the worst mistake of his life. He forced out the words he’d never meant to speak to any woman again.

“Will you marry me?”

The quiet question penetrated the mire of misery enveloping Juliet. Shaking with disbelief, she stared at his rugged features, at the tanned skin and black hair that formed so dazzling a contrast to the white of his shirt. He couldn’t be serious. He couldn’t be. Yet the very thought of becoming his wife made her heart slam against her ribs.

Quelling the riot of hope, she shook her head. “How can you ask me that? You yourself said we hardly know one another.”

“We know enough.” Striding to her, he tenderly took her cheeks into his palms. “When I saw you about to walk out of my life, Juliet, I suddenly knew the truth. I can’t let you go.”

Candor gentled his face. Her hands clenched the soft kid gloves as she struggled to sort through the doubts and dreams clashing inside her. “What about my father? What if he forbids the marriage?”

“We won’t tell him. We’ll elope.”

“I can’t simply run off—”

“It’s the best way. When it’s too late to obtain an annulment, Emmett will be forced to accept the inevitable.”

The grim certainty in his voice told her that Kent saw his way as the only sensible solution. Was he right?

“But how can we keep our plans a secret? The instant the banns are announced, someone will congratulate my parents.”

“Not if we marry by special license. I may not be wealthy, but I wield a duke’s influence.”

His cool self possession disturbed her. He’d spoken no words of love, no promise to cherish her. Did he want her for money? She tried to banish the thought, but it seared like a hot coal in her stomach.

“My father is sure to cut me off without a penny.”

“He can burn his millions for all I care. I want
you,
Juliet, not the Carleton fortune.”

This time his eyes blazed with feeling and his hands held her tightly. She felt dizzy and reckless, caught in a whirlpool of happiness. “Oh, Kent, I want to believe you. Truly, I do.”

“If it will ease your mind, I’ll have my solicitor draw up papers renouncing any claim of mine to your father’s money.” His lips brushed hers in a petal soft caress. “Think about it, Juliet. By this time tomorrow, we can be man and wife.”

His palms slid down her back, his fingers splaying over her hips, pressing her to him, stroking a torrid longing that melted au reason. She drew a shallow breath. How could he ask her to think when their bodies were fitted so tightly together, when his earthy scent enfolded her, when his musky sweet taste lingered in her mouth?

“Come home with me as my duchess, Juliet. Share my life and my bed. Bear my children. I need you. We’ll never be apart again.”

Like leaves before an autumn wind, her doubts scattered. He was asking her to banish the darkness from his soul. He was asking her to make him forget the tragedy of his past. He was asking her to reawaken his ability to love.

“Yes, I’ll marry you.”

His arms relaxed. He gently cupped her jaw, and in his hand she detected a faint tremor of emotion that made her spirits soar.

“I’ll make you happy, Juliet,” he vowed, as if trying to convince himself. “I’ll grant you all the freedom your parents denied you... the freedom to pursue your interest in botany. You can spend your days restoring the neglected greenhouses at Radcliffe. I’ll never cage you like that sapling.”

“As long as we’re together, I’ll be happy.”

She brushed her lips across his work roughened palm; his sharp intake of breath thrilled her. “I’ll set your spirit free,” he whispered. “I’ll unlock all the sensuality hidden inside you.”

“I want that, Kent. I want everything you can give me.”

He tilted her chin and his mouth caught hers again.

Wanting to bind herself to him, she wreathed her arms around his neck and pressed her breasts to his chest. He kissed her lips, her cheeks, her eyes, and his thumbs rubbed her temples, the combination of caresses drawing a deep and magical response from her body.

When at last his mouth ceased its sorcery, he continued to hold her, his hand drifting over her back, as if he could not bear to let her go. She nestled her cheek in the hard hollow of his collarbone and let herself float. Like wingbeats of joy, her pulse joined with his. She wanted to bask forever in the heat of his body, the strength of his arms.

Too soon, he drew back. “I must go. There’s still time today for me to see the bishop about the license.”

“Shall I accompany you?”

Kent shook his head. “I’ve no wish to subject you to any embarrassment.”

“I’m not ashamed of my love for you.”

“You don’t understand.” He hesitated. “I’ll have to say that we’ve consummated our relationship.”

Perplexed, she cocked her head to the side. “We’ve
finished
our relationship? But isn’t it just the opposite?”

Those dark eyes gleamed; a slight smile softened his mouth. “You
have
been sheltered, haven’t you, my Lady Botanist?” Tucking a wisp of hair behind her ear, he added, “I’ll have to tell him that I’ve compromised you, taken you to my bed.”

Understanding flamed in her cheeks. Such a declaration would brand her a fallen woman. People would speculate about the abrupt marriage; her parents would endure stares and malicious gossip.

“Is there no other reason you could give?”

“Trust me. It’s the only way to ensure that our marriage takes place immediately.” He paused, and although his hands still rested on her shoulders, she had the curious impression of his withdrawal. “You see, the bishop will grant a special license only if he believes you may be carrying my child.”

He walked away to tug on the bell cord. Juliet wondered what had triggered his sudden aloofness. Was it the mention of a child? He must still mourn the unborn baby who’d died with his beloved wife.

Wife.
The thought sent shivers down her spine. She slowly bent to retrieve the gloves, which she’d dropped during the kiss. Kent stood by the sofa, his broad back half turned as he gathered his father’s drawings and tucked them into the satchel. The sight of his lean body brought a rush of reckless rapture. Once they were married, she would bear him a baby, an heir. He’d be so proud and happy...

“Yes, sahib?” Ravi stood in the doorway. His brown eyes impassive, the servant flicked a glance at her.

“Tell Hatchett to bring the landau around. Immediately.”

“As you wish, Your Grace.” Bowing, the servant left, as silently as he’d arrived.

“Will you wait while I fetch my coat?” Kent asked her. “This once, I insist on escorting you home—or at least as close as we can risk. The future Duchess of Radcliffe shan’t be going about London in hired hansoms.”

She stood still, staring as he strode out of the library. Her heart beat fast under the force of a stunning thought. She would be a duchess... Her parents wanted her to wed a titled man, and she could scarcely do better than a duke. Once they understood that Kent intended not dishonor but marriage, wouldn’t her father set aside his animosity?

Excited resolve built within her. The moment Papa came home today, she’d gently break the news. He’d be angry at first, but Mama would help ease him into acceptance. Given time, he would concede to Juliet’s determination and realize how important his blessing was to her. At last he’d regard her as an adult...

She took a deep breath. Better that Kent shouldn’t know her plan; like her father, he’d order her to leave such matters to the men. But she would prove to him that Papa could love as fiercely as he could hate. Like Romeo and Juliet, she would bring together the two feuding families.

Some thirty minutes later, she sat beside Kent in a closed landau that smelled of ancient leather, the wheels creaking as the carriage jolted over the cobbled street. The contemplative look in his eyes revealed little of his private thoughts. The absentminded drumming of his fingers on the seat exhibited the only sign of nerves. But even his preoccupation couldn’t dim the sunshine inside her. She could sit for hours and study the strong angles of his profile, the black hair that curled slightly behind his ears, the raven slash of his eyebrows, the noble set of his jaw. She envisioned them married, passing a quiet evening in the drawing room, children gamboling at their feet while Kent held her close and told her about his day...

He turned abruptly to her. “We’ll have to get our start during the night. Can you manage to be in front of your house at two tomorrow morning?”

His words dashed her into dismay. “So soon? I thought we’d wait a few days—”

“I cannot wait to make you mine, Juliet.” He gathered her hands in his. “Unless you’ve doubts about becoming my wife.”

He bent his head, and his warm lips caressed the back of her hand. His mouth lingered a moment; then he looked up, his face mere inches from hers. His eyes gleamed with a dark fire that nourished the flame of longing inside her. She could no more resist him than she could stop the wild beating of her heart.

“No, Kent. I’ve no doubts.”

His hands tightened before releasing her. “It’s settled, then. We’ll leave tonight.”

Her soul sang with excitement. She wanted to run away with Kent, to experience the heady thrill of escaping propriety, to let him initiate her into all the mysteries of womanhood.

Still, she yearned to banish the need to steal away in the middle of the night. She had no wish to damage her parents’ dearly bought position in society. A long engagement period followed by an elaborate wedding would fulfill her mother’s dreams and swell her father’s pride.

Regretfully Juliet tucked away her craving for adventure. Once she settled things with Papa, she’d send Kent a message that at last the feud was over. He’d come and make amends with her father. Perhaps Papa would even finance Kent’s inventions...

Around the corner from Belgrave Square, the landau halted and Kent helped her down. He caressed her cheek and murmured goodbye; she hoped tonight she’d be able to tell him all this secrecy was unnecessary. The black door with its faded gold ducal crest clicked shut. She stood on the curbstone and watched as the carriage drove off into the congestion of traffic.

Juliet started toward her house. Feeling blissful, she grinned at a liveried footman who hurried down the walkway. Feeling generous, she pressed a silver half crown into the grimy palm of a flypaper vendor. Feeling mischievous, she waggled her fingers at a housemaid who polished a brass door knocker.

Occupying an entire corner of the square, Carleton House stood with fluted gray columns supporting a portico that towered to the third floor. The palazzo like mansion seemed warm and inviting today. As she climbed the marble steps, the approach of a carriage drew her attention.

Her father’s brougham rounded the circular drive and stopped near the entryway. Before the footman could reach the handle, the door burst open and Emmett Carleton stepped out.

Her heart danced over a beat. The chance to speak to him had come sooner than expected. She could scarcely contain the eagerness and anxiety roiling inside her.