The Training of a Marquess (27 page)

“I would like that.” She carefully rolled up the canvas. “Were you able to see Bobby?”

“Yes. Let’s walk and I’ll tell you about it.”

After one last look at her son’s grave, she stood. Chase offered his arm, pleased when she curled her hand around it. Resting his other hand over hers, he led her up the path. Her hand was cool and soft under his and awareness of her flooded his senses.

He wanted to lean his head down and press his mouth against the pulse in her neck, wanted to feel her lifeblood as it beat against his lips. When he had done that, he would trail kisses over her shoulders and down to the valley of her breasts. He would feel her skin heat under his touch as his hands traced the curves of her body. He would part her legs and—

“What did Bobby say?” she asked.

“What?” His mind protested the interruption of his erotic daydream.

“I asked what Bobby said. Where was your mind?”

In bed with you.
“Oh, here and there.” The path led them into the trees and he welcomed the shadowed coolness. “I’ll tell you, but first, you promised to explain why you’ve been ignoring me.”

Chapter Twenty

Claire stopped and removed her hand from his arm. Turning to face him, she gave a determined shake of her head. If she answered his question, he would likely stomp off in anger before he told her if Bobby was agreeable to the elopement.

“I’ll tell you, but first I will hear how your visit went.”

His chest heaved in a sigh of annoyance. “Very well, we will have it your way. This time.”

She wanted to smile at the arrogance in his voice. He stood tall and straight in front of her, his whole being vibrating with tension. Until yesterday, whether he realized it or not, he had been sure of her. Now he wasn’t and he didn’t like it.

Believing her plan was working was the only thing that kept her from walking into his arms and begging him to claim her—heart, body, mind and soul.

Forever and a day.

“Is Bobby willing to elope with Rhonda?” she asked.

“Yes. It seems the idea had already occurred to him, but his father cautioned against it, fearful of the consequences. Once Mr. Smith knew the couple had the support of a marquess behind them, he gave his approval. I liked the boy and his father. They are honest, hardworking folk.

“You were right, he is a good match for Miss Fisherman. Bobby’s eyes light up at the mention of her name and I feel confident he will be a good husband to her. I gave him the monies and we went over the plan. It will be happily ever after for them, it seems.”

“Oh, this is exciting, and I am so happy for them. I must go tell Lady Anne at once.”

“Claire.”

He growled her name, a warning that she would not escape so easily. His gaze locked on her, daring her to try and leave. Shivers of anticipation flowed through her. Her heart thumped loudly, awakening her butterflies.

He took a step toward her.

She took a step back.

His lips curved in a wicked smile. “It’s to be like this, then?” he murmured and began to stalk her.

She retreated until her back came up against a tree. Trapped she was, a cornered mouse to his cat. His hands rose and he pressed them against the tree, caging her between his arms.

He leaned toward her, stopping inches from her face and stared at her mouth. Her lips tingled as warm puffs of his breath wafted over them.

She pressed her palms hard against the tree—the only thing holding her up—as he feathered kisses over her eyes, her nose, her mouth.

Streaks of fire raced through her when he nibbled on her bottom lip. Pressing his body against hers, he rocked his hips showing her his arousal. If she slid down the tree, would he follow her down, lay himself over her and bring her the pleasure her body ached for?

“Why, Claire?” he asked between feathering kisses.

The mist invading her mind cleared. She pushed against his chest, but he was as solid as the tree behind her.

“Go stand over there.” She pointed toward the path. “I can’t think when you’re near.”

Her words produced a chuckle from him. “As you wish.” He stepped back two paces.

“More.”

He sketched a mocking bow. “I am my lady’s servant.” He backed up until there was about ten feet between them. “Is this sufficient? Any more and I will need an ear trumpet to hear you.”

The devil lord was too amused. She had half a mind to march past him and leave him wondering as to the why. Of course, her chances of getting by him were...well, none. His legs were spread making her think of a pirate posed in a commanding stance on the bow of this ship. A golden, angel-faced pirate. She must have smiled because he scowled, crossed his arms over his chest and glared down his nose at her.

“Sometime today, please, Claire.”

God, she loved the arrogant beast. She bit her bottom lip to keep from telling him.

“Another kiss you owe me,” he said smugly.

“If you would stop talking long enough for me to think, I’ll answer your question. Are you still taking me to London for the purpose of finding a husband?”

All traces of amusement left his face, replaced by a look of what? Determination? Regret? Her heart pounded as she waited for his answer.

“I am.” He gave a weary sigh. “I will admit that I don’t want to, but I don’t feel I have a choice. May I come closer?”

“Only a little.”

He stopped halfway to her. “I have explained this before, but will again. You lived an unusually sheltered life, Claire. I want you to have a chance to experience all the things a girl does at her come out. I can’t be sure of you, otherwise.” He appeared startled, as if he’d said more than he wished.

He pushed a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m set on this course more for myself than for you for reasons of my own.”

For the first time, she truly understood his insistence on following through with his plan. In the days since his arrival, they had argued, laughed together, shared confidences and had loved each other with their bodies.

Because he’d been deeply hurt, he still guarded his heart. By taking her to London and putting her in the company of other men he was testing her. Stupid, but understandable considering his past.

Her horses often tested her, especially the damaged ones.
Can I trust you?
The question that mattered to them above all others. With each one, she had done whatever necessary to earn their trust. So be it. She would do the same for him.

“Very well. I’ll go to London and shop for a husband.” She moved to stand in front of him and raised her palm to his cheek. “But know this, Chase. There is only one man I want.”

She walked past him and down the path.

Chase stood like a human statue, legs still braced apart and arms still folded across his chest. Unreasonable as it was—as he was the one insisting—rage had consumed him when she said she would look for a husband.

Then a simple touch of her hand and her final words had calmed the beast inside him. He dismissed his doubts about what he was doing. It was a sound plan, he was sure of it.

He turned to escort her back to the abbey, but she had disappeared. Bloody hell. The woman still hadn’t answered his question.

He shook his head and grinned. She muddled his mind so easily that he wasn’t sure of his own name half the time. But, he vowed, he would get his answer before the day ended. Also, she still owed him two kisses. He was keeping count and it was one of the few things he was sure of.

****

Chase stood still while Anders tied his cravat. A week had passed since the day Claire had agreed to go to London—a deuced irritating week. She had evaded him at every turn. His mother had apparently appointed herself Claire’s accomplice in the game of Ignoring Chase. If Claire wasn’t busy working with Harry, she and his mother were joined at the hip.

When his mother bade him goodnight, Claire left with her. He had spent hours each night sitting on the wall of the courtyard waiting for her to make an appearance, but there had been no Claire.

He had been sorely tempted to go to her room after everyone was asleep. So far, he had controlled the impulse. The only thing keeping him sane was the furtive glances he caught her giving him.

“There, my lord, all finished. One of my best knots, if I do say so myself.”

“You say that every time.”

Anders picked up the velvet midnight-blue coat. “And each time it is true.”

Chase held out his arms as Anders tugged the coat onto him and smoothed away the wrinkles. Tonight was the assembly and Chase dreaded it. He would have to drink weak lemonade and be fawned over. Claire had begged to stay home, but he refused to even consider it. If he had to submit to torture, then it was only fair she shared the pain.

At the bottom of the stairs, he waited for the ladies. Footsteps sounded above. When Claire came into view alongside his mother, he almost shouted in anger. It took effort, but he thought he managed a normal voice. “Where the devil did that black gown come from, Claire? And take that ugly cap off.”

She wrapped her arm around Lady Anne’s. “I told you he wouldn’t like it.”

“You’re damn right. I don’t like it.” So much for controlling his anger.

“Kensington, must I always have to remind you to watch your language?”

“My pardon, Mama, but she knows how I feel about seeing her in black.”

Claire reached the bottom step and stopped in front of him. “It’s either this gown or I won’t go. If I don’t wear black, Mrs. Fisherman will make sure everyone knows I put away my widow’s weeds too soon. I refuse to be the subject of gossip tonight.”

She was right, devil take it, but he hated seeing her in black, supposedly mourning a man who had treated her like a piece of the furniture. The white cap, however, was another matter and he plucked it off. Her hair was styled in a neat twist low on her neck. In his opinion, entirely suitable for the occasion.

“Very well. But, Claire, after tonight, never again. The first thing we’re going to do when we arrive in London is go shopping. There will be no blacks or lavenders allowed.”

“Fair enough.” She gave him a grateful smile.

Chase escorted his ladies to the waiting carriage. The ride into the village didn’t take more than thirty minutes. He spent the time listening to Claire give Lady Anne details of the village families expected to attend the assembly while completely ignoring him.

Before the night ended, he would find out why.

She and his mother had grown close. Although he was glad of it, he was ready for Lady Anne to go home so he could have his Claire back.

His Claire
.

More and more, he was feeling possessive of her. How was he going to endure seeing her in a ballroom flirting and dancing with other men? She had said he was the only man she wanted, so he would hold onto that.

The carriage stopped and his footman opened the door. Chase entered the assembly hall with Claire on one arm and his mother on the other. The villagers were arranged in a semicircle facing the door with the Fisherman family in front. Applause broke out and Chase wanted to groan—or flee. This was going to be an interminable night.

For the first hour, Mrs. Fisherman planted herself by his side, guiding him and Lady Anne to every person in attendance for introductions. Claire had managed to slip away when Mrs. Fisherman nudged her way between them. With each presentation, Mrs. Fisherman made sure to mention how Lord Derebourne had asked her darling Rhonda for the first dance. Some of the looks sent his way at this news were speculative and others seemed to be amused.

Where the devil was Claire? Her place was by him, not sitting along the wall in deep conversation with Miss Fisherman.

Claire tried to keep her attention on Rhonda, but couldn’t stop her eyes from following Chase as Mrs. Fisherman introduced him to the village families. The poor man was obviously miserable. Even so, he was breathtakingly beautiful in his formal clothes. His blue coat stretched across broad shoulders, the color bringing out the gold in his hair.

Then there were the parts of him hidden by his attire that she’d seen in all their glory. The muscular legs dusted by fine golden hairs, the dark arrow of hair leading to the most fascinating part of him, and don’t forget his feet.

Merciful heavens, the assembly room was very warm. She opened her fan and waved it in front of her face.

“I don’t know if I am more nervous or more excited,” Rhonda said from beside her.

Claire forced her mind to pay attention to Rhonda. “Everything will go as planned tonight, Rhonda. There is no need to be nervous.”

“Oh, I mean that I’m anxious about having to dance with Lord Derebourne but excited about marrying Bobby. I’m not nervous about the elopement because I know I’m meant to be with him. When does Lord Derebourne plan to talk to my father?”

“As soon as the first dance is finished he will ask to do so in private. Remember, you are to wait ten minutes before you join them.”

“What if Papa doesn’t agree?”

“Look at Lord Derebourne. What you see is a man capable of arranging the world to his liking.” She patted Rhonda’s hand. “All will go as planned, I promise.”

The musicians began the first strings of a country dance. “Oh heavens, here he comes,” Rhonda said.

“Just relax, dear, he doesn’t bite.”
Well, actually he does
, Claire thought, and had to stifle a giggle.

“Miss Fisherman, my dance, I believe.”

The devil lord gave Claire a wink as he bowed over Rhonda’s hand. Claire waved her fan vigorously in an attempt to cool her heated face.

Rhonda placed her hand in his and Chase led her to the dance floor. Claire longed to be the one in his arms. He was a superb dancer, and although Rhonda was stiff and uncertain of her steps, Chase expertly guided her down the floor. He said something to make Rhonda laugh and the girl relaxed a little.

“I never thought we would get away from that woman.” Lady Anne sat beside her. “I had to stomp on Kensington’s foot once when Mrs. Fisherman hinted to someone that she expected an offer for her darling Rhonda’s hand very soon, and then looked pointedly at Kensington.

“I thought he would end the game then and there. He looked at his foot and then at mine, then raised his brow at me as if to say, is that the best you can do? But the moment passed, so all is well.”