More Than Willing (23 page)

Bloody hell but she was making this difficult for him.

He handed his hat and gloves to the waiting footman then walked up the stairs and into the Duchess of Hardington’s ballroom. This was the seventh boring affair he’d attended in the three weeks since he’d come to London and he wasn’t any closer to convincing Maggie that he loved her than he had been that first night.

Of course, it didn’t help that every friend and acquaintance he’d ever associated with in his wild and reckless days came up to him in her hearing to tell him how sorely he’d been missed at the gaming tables. A few of them had even insinuated that there were a few females, whose names they couldn’t mention, who would be extremely happy to hear he was back in Town.

He’d made a supreme effort to convince her that every questionable comment was a ploy to embarrass him in front of her, but she didn’t buy his lies for a minute.

Why was it so damned difficult for her to believe him? Didn’t she know how much he’d changed? Didn’t she know how much he cared for her? It should be evident.

He’d lured her into the garden at every ball they attended and had managed to kiss her in the moonlight. It hadn’t taken long for their shared passion to get out of control, and more than once their kisses had gone much further than either of them intended.

He didn’t know about her, but trying to woo her was pure torture. At this rate, she was going to kill him before he convinced her that he loved her.

Gray braced himself for another night of torture, then walked to the top of the stairs and stopped.

He saw her immediately. It was as if everyone in the group where she stood waved at him to indicate she was among them. Even in the largest crush of guests, his gaze honed in on her without hesitation.

And even more amusing, she seemed to know the exact moment he arrived. Just like now, it didn’t take her but a second to turn around and find him.

Bloody hell, but she was a beauty.

She wore emerald green again tonight. She’d worn it before and he remembered how stunning her rich auburn hair had looked against that color. Every shimmering strand of gold seemed to glisten beneath the glow of the chandeliers.

And her eyes…

Her dark ebony eyes locked with his and a wealth of pent-up emotion passed between them. How much longer did she expect him to continue like this? It didn’t help that he remembered what it had been like to have her in his arms. It was even worse that he could recall with agonizing clarity what it felt like to be inside her body. Bloody hell, but he wanted her.

He’d never imagined he’d love someone as completely as he loved her. And if he couldn’t convince her soon he didn’t know what he’d do.

He took the steps as leisurely as his body would let him and greeted his host and hostess with what he hoped was an adequate greeting. He was in such a hurry to reach her he hardly remembered what he said.

The crowd parted as he walked toward her.
They acted as if they anticipated his destination and were determined to make the way easier for him.

Gray was thankful for their assistance.

“Good evening, Miss Bradford,” he said, escorting her away from the crush of people and to a place where it was more secluded. “You look especially lovely tonight.”

“Thank you, Mr. Delaney.”

“And extremely happy. Do I dare ask the reason for such a smile on your face?”

His Maggie smiled even brighter and her eyes glimmered when she looked over to the side of the room where her sister, Charlotte, stood with the Viscount Markinsdale and a group of friends. They were all admiring something on Charlotte’s finger.

“Ah, I take it Markinsdale finally paid you that visit you were anticipating.”

“Yes. He came to call this afternoon and asked for Charlotte’s hand. He truly loves her.”

“How do you know?”

Her gaze turned back to him. “Because he told me his plans for the future and how he intended to take care of her. He explained how ideally suited they were to each other, and all the goals they had for a life together. And, of course, he told me he loved her.”

“You believed him?”

“Of course I believed him. Just look at the way he looks at her. Is there any doubt?”

He shrugged. “No, I’m just disappointed that you’d take Markinsdale’s word at face value, yet you know me so much more intimately, and still you won’t accept my vow of love.”

Her cheeks turned a rosy hue as she darted her gaze from one side to the other to make sure no one was within listening distance.

“You and I can hardly be compared to Charlotte and Markinsdale.”

“Why not?”

She lifted her chin in that defiant gesture he’d seen so often and he knew she had no intention of answering. If he didn’t occupy her attention he was afraid she’d walk away from him.

“Perhaps you’d care to dance,” he said, extending his arm for her to take. “They’re playing a waltz.”

She hesitated, then, as if she realized he probably wouldn’t take no for an answer, she placed her hand atop his sleeve and let him escort her to the dance floor.

A
s he turned around to take her in his arms, Harley Pinkerman, Marquess of Chandling, ran into them.

W
hen the two muscular men hit, they collided with a thud that rocked Gray’s balance.

Gray took hold of Maggie to make sure she was all right, then turned to the man who’d barged into them
.

“Delaney, is that you?” Chandling asked, righting
himself. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man who worked out in the ring nearly every day.

“Hello, Chandling.”

Chandling slurred his words and must have stayed a little too long in the card room imbibing in the exquisite liquor for which the Duke of Hartington was known.

“What are you doing here? On the hunt like the rest of us?”

Chandling turned his lecherous gaze to Maggie, and Gray almost decked him on the spot.

“I am escorting Miss Margaret Bradford to the dance floor. If you’ll excuse us.”

“Any relation to the brewery Bradfords?”

“Yes, Miss Brad
ford’s father is Baron Bradley.”

“You’re a lucky man, Delaney,” Chandling said with a broad smile on his face. “Damn fine fine…” He stopped and shook his head. “Damn fine
find. A brewford Braderey. I mean a relation of Baron Bradley.”

Chandling’s mixed words came out as a garbled slur and Gray was pummeled by an acute wave of embarrassment. Six months ago this might have been him. Six months ago he would probably have been as inebriated as Chandling and have acted the same way.

“If you’ll excuse us, Chandling. Miss Bradford has promised me this dance.”

“Where have you been, old man. Don’t tell me you’ve actually been in the country like rumors said you were?”

Gray felt Maggie’s hold on his arm tighten and when he lowered his gaze to her face he saw a look of fury he wanted to warn Chandling to avoid.

“That must have
been the longest six months of your life! I know how you hate the country. Bet you couldn’t wait to come back,” Chandling continued, oblivious to the fool he was making of himself.

Gray felt a change in Maggie’s mood. Before, she’d simply ignored Chandling for the irritant he was. Now, the idiot had her full attention – and if the way the color had drained from her face was any indication, anything Chandling said next wouldn’t be something Gray wanted Maggie to hear.

“I don’t want to be rude,” Gray started to say.

“J
ust tell me you’re here to stay,” Chandling barreled on, “I haven’t had anyone decent to go gaming with since you left. No one can last even a whole night, let alone days at a time like we used to.”

“Those times are in the past,” Gray said staunchly. “I’m afraid I have no desire to repeat my stupidity.”

Gray said his words with as much disparagement as he could, but from the look on Maggie’s face, Chandling was the only one who thought Gray actually meant what he’d said.

“You aren’t serious.” Chandling hesitated, then laughed again. “Of course you’re not. You’d never survive if you couldn’t gamble. You never could resist a game with high stakes.”

“I’ve changed.”

Chandling leaned forward. “What if I told you there’s a big game at Washington’s tonight?”

“I’d say I’m not interested.”

“Even if I told you everyone important will be there?”

“Not even then. Now, if you’ll excuse us.”

Gray placed his hand at Maggie’s back and turned her to the dance floor.

“I’ll excuse you tonight, Delaney. I can see you have other matters on your mind. But it won’t be long until you’re back. You enjoy the game too much to give it up for long.”

Gray tried to get Maggie out of hearing but he was afraid the damage had already been done. He pulled her into his arms and twirled her around the dance floor. She was silent, not even uttering a comment abou
t anything Chandling had said—which was totally unlike her.

“Maggie, are you all right?”

“Yes, fine.”

“I see the crowd congratulating your sister hasn’t diminished,” he said, desperate to start a conversation that would draw her attention. “How soon do you anticipate the happy event taking place?”

She hesitated a moment. “Within a year, perhaps,” she replied as if she realized he expected an answer. “Felicity and Charlotte have even mentioned sharing a ceremony.”

“Really.
” He looked down at her. She was unnaturally stiff in his arms and the rosy glow he’d seen when he first arrived was gone. Perhaps it was the yellow hue of the candles, but Gray knew it had more to do with their run-in with Chandling.

“Yes, n
ow that they’re engaged, I can—”

She stumbled and he tightened his hold on her. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m fine. I just—”

Her knees seemed to give way beneath her.

“Gray?”

“I’ve got you, Maggie,
my love.”

They weren’t far from the open
terrace doors and he placed his arm around her waist and swiftly moved her in that direction.

“We’ll be outside in a minute.”

Gray led her through the open doors and to a small cement bench on the far side of the terrace. He helped her sit, then sat beside her to keep her steady. “Are you ill?”

She shook her head. “I’m just overly warm. Her grace didn’t open the doors and windows until the room was crowded, and it got terribly stuffy.”

“Yes, it was warm inside. And I’m sure our conversation with Chandling didn’t help.”

He felt her tense.

“No, it didn’t,” she said, lifting her gaze. “I didn’t appreciate having your sordid past thrown in my face. It only reinforced what I already knew. I’ve told you over and over that I won’t allow you to ruin my life, yet you’ve done nothing but hound me to marry you every chance you get. Even though I’ve explained a hundred times that I have no intention of marrying you, you refuse to give up.”

She was losing control and Gray was suddenly overwhelmed by a sense of guilt. That’s exactly what he’d done. Maggie had been burdened by the terrible strain of keeping her father’s death a secret until she found suitable husbands for her sisters. Of having the brewery taken away from her. Of knowing she’d lose her family home when her father’s death was made public. While he had only compounded the strain she was under by forcing himself on her every chance he had.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“Maggie!” her sisters both called out as they nearly ran across the
terrace. Their two fiancés followed behind.

“Are you all right?”

“What’s wrong?”

She brushed Gray’s arm from around her and he realized she had no intention of telling her sisters she felt faint. He slid to the side of the bench and stood to give both Felicity and Charlotte room to crowd around Maggie.

“I’m fine. Fine,” she said with a broad smile on her face he doubted she could have produced a few minutes ago.

“I just got overly warm and wanted some fresh air. And,” she said, drawing out the word to make it sound as if th
ey’d interrupted an assignation, “I wanted a private moment with Mr. Delaney.”

“Oh.
” Felicity clasped her hands over her mouth. “We spoiled your intentions. How stupid of us.”

“Yes,” Charlotte added. “We thought you were ill.”

“No, I’m not ill. I just needed some fresh air and I wanted to tell Mr. Delaney Charlotte’s exciting news.”

“Yes,” Gray said, amazed at how smoothly Maggie pulled the attention away from herself and how gullible her sisters were to believe her. Or maybe they were just used to listening to everything she said and didn’t think to question it. “Congratulations, Miss Bradford. Markinsdale.”

Viscount Markinsdale stepped beside Charlotte and took her hand. “Charlotte made me the happiest of men when she accepted my offer of marriage.”