I’ll wager she would, thought Marcus, one of the reasons subsiding at last, to his great relief. He had once, when dazed and lightly wounded as a young soldier in Portugal, been a helpless passenger in a wagon overloaded and poorly managed, which had escaped from the control of its incompetent driver and terrified horses – mercifully for the poor beasts, at least, the traces had broken – and careered down a hill at enormous speed to crash into some obstacle at last and overturn in great noise and confusion. Bones had been broken, and heads cracked. He had just the same sensation of utter powerlessness and impending disaster now, though he wasn’t sure if Lady Keswick was the hill or the wagon. Or the wall at the bottom.
Rather surprisingly, the unpredictable Lady Wyverne came to their rescue; his new fiancée, most uncharacteristically, had still not uttered so much as a word. ‘No doubt you are right, ma’am,’ she said cordially. ‘We are all most grateful for the kind interest you take in Amelia’s well-being. But perhaps such an important detail is more correctly a matter for Lord Thornfalcon to discuss with Amelia and with my husband, who is after all her guardian, at a more convenient date.’
It was as neat and elegant a set-down as he’d ever seen given, and Lady Keswick did not so much as blink as she digested it. She had good fighting bottom, he’d give her that. It must be years since someone had been bold enough to take her on and best her in such a fashion, let alone a slip of a Frenchwoman. He had not been in the way of seeing any of the famous boxing matches of recent years, since he had been abroad about his duties, but he had a feeling that he and Amelia were now privileged to witness a bout as worthy of celebration as Cribb versus Molineaux.
‘You are quite right to reprove me, Lady Wyverne,’ the older lady said with magnificent carelessness. ‘It is none of my affair, of course, asa mere aunt.’ Only a complete nodcock would believe that she meant these words with any seriousness. ‘I only wished to offer the benefit of my many years of experience of the world.’
‘I would not dream of reproving you, ma’am,’ Sophie replied. ‘I am sure that nobody would ever think to describe you in such an impertinent manner. You do yourself so much less than justice.’ She appeared to be enjoying herself, and it was possible, Marcus thought as he watched, fascinated, that the two mighty combatants – the wily old champion and the cocksure young challenger for the title – had already forgotten that he and Amelia were still in the room. Perhaps they could sneak away and leave them to it. Perhaps they could take up where they had left off. He became aware that he was holding his betrothed’s warm little hand – he wasn’t sure if he had taken it just now without realising that he was doing so, or if she had slipped hers into his in unconscious search for comfort. Probably it didn’t matter which. He squeezed it in silent communication, and she returned the pressure.
But she had plainly had enough of whatever it was that they were all caught up in. ‘I’m sorry, Aunt,’ she said, pressing his hand again and then discreetly letting it drop. ‘I know your words were prompted by nothing other than loving concern for me and for my future, and I will always be grateful for it. But Sophie is quite right – we shouldn’t discuss such matters without Rafe’s presence. Heismy guardian, after all. It must be for him to decide what is best for me, not anyone else, until I pass into the authority of my dear husband, of course.’
This was doing it rather too brown, Marcus thought. She was looking perfectly meek and saintly now, long, dark lashes lowered to hide those bright eyes, which were probably gleaming with mischief, could he but see. She had very much the appearance of one who was submissively willing to do whatever her wise male relatives might command, however unreasonable it might be. But she was not generally anywhere near so biddable, and her aunt must know it. He became aware of a great bubble of laughter welling up inside him; he felt strangely intoxicated, he realised.
‘Hmm,’ Lady Keswick said again, her voice heavy with scepticism. ‘The authority of your husband, indeed. I wish I might live to see it.’
‘Surely you of all people can’t mean that, ma’am,’ said Sophie sweetly. Since the late Lord Keswick had been well known to live under the cat’s foot, this too was a shrewd hit.
Lady Keswick’s bosom swelled in indignation, and she lost her self-control in spectacular fashion. ‘I can see that I am being disgracefully mocked,’ she pronounced. ‘I do not know what young women are coming to these days. You both deserve to be soundly spanked.’ She gathered the folds of her gown about her in high dudgeon, and was clearly about to leave on this surprising statement, which Marcus thought was both interesting, as suggestions went, and unanswerable, but Sophie, game as a pebble, would not let her opponent have the last word. Not on her own home ground.
‘Perhaps you’re right,’ she answered ambiguously. ‘You so often are. I will go and find Rafe directly!’ And she held open the door for her adversary, winking at Amelia and Marcus as she obliged her to leave the room, and followed close behind her. The last they heard as the door closed was the Dowager protesting that the engaged couple should by no means be left alone, after what had so recently occurred, and Sophie’s outrageous reply: ‘I thought you wanted him to spank her? I find you most inconsistent, ma’am!’
16
A more awkward situation could hardly be imagined, Amelia thought. The interruption they had lately suffered had been bad enough, but this was much worse. She knew she was scarlet with mortification again; she felt hot all over.
Marcus said thoughtfully, ‘Did you know her late husband? I was never acquainted with him, and I’m not sure how long it has been since his death. Perhaps she is a widow of long standing.’
‘No, it has only been two or three years, so I did know him. He was an extremely shy, gentle sort of man, and left the direction of all his affairs to my aunt. But they appeared to be deeply fond of each other, nonetheless. Everyone said he was henpecked, and that it was a sad thing, but I thought they were very happy in their own way.’
‘Hence, perhaps, the spanking,’ he murmured. ‘One should not jump to rash conclusions, of course, about who…’ And then, ‘Oh! I should not have said that. I do beg your pardon. What an extraordinary time we have been having. You have been sorely tried this afternoon, I think, my poor Amelia!’
‘Say rather, poor Aunt!’ She couldn’t, she hoped, be blushing any more than she had already been. ‘I have never seen her so utterly routed – I would not have believed it possible. Perhaps Sophie has been practising set-downs in private for just such an occasion. I am only sorry Rafe and Charlie were not here to see it.’
‘So am not I,’ he replied. ‘Our audience was large enough, I think. Any more and we should have been obliged to sell tickets and refreshments.’
She said resolutely, ‘That was all my fault. You would not have been put in such a situation if I had not kissed you, and I am sorry for it.’
‘Are you?’ he said. ‘You will have me thinking that you did not like it, which would be a sad state of affairs indeed. Perhaps we should do it again, just to be sure.’
‘You are every bit as bad as Sophie, or Aunt Millicent,’ she said crossly. ‘I had always been used to think you an excessively serious sort of a person, even a gloomy one, and now when you should be sober, you will not leave off joking me. You know perfectly well that I liked it. But I still should not have done it.’
‘Would it have been better if I had begun it? But you can claim I did, if you wish, because it was I, was it not, who mentioned kissing first? I tempted you beyond what you could be expected to bear. You’re only human.’
‘You did not…temptme! How can you be so ridiculous?’ She could have stamped her foot in frustration.
‘What was it, then?’ he asked. ‘Perhaps simple, natural curiosity? That is understandable, I suppose. You had never been kissed; now you have. I hope it was satisfactory, as a first experience.’ He did sound a little more serious now, as if his question mattered to him, but she could not regard it. Such things should not be spoken of. If ladies and gentlemen began revealing their deepest thoughts to each other, where might it end?
‘How is this helping my reputation?’ she shot back defensively, eager to move the subject to slightly safer ground. ‘If we continue on this path, I shall soon be just as bad as people think me!’
He sighed, and the novel, amused brightness of his expression seemed to dim. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘You’re right. It is I who should apologise to you. I should not have allowed it.’
This made her unaccountably angry too, even though he was only agreeing with her, which had been what she’d wanted. ‘Well, that would scarcely have made me feel any better, if you had pushed me away!’
‘I had no desire at all to push you away. I would rather have pulled you closer still, and probably would have if we had not been stopped. Perhaps it is as well we were. Shall we agree that the kiss was mutual, and leave it at that?’
The kiss.The kiss. The Kiss. Her brain insisted on capitalising it, on illuminating it as though these were the first words of some precious manuscript, as though it had great significance when surely it had not. Not to him. A man who hadn’t kissed a woman in eight long years was probably desperate and would snatch at any opportunity he was given; hence, perhaps, his giddiness now. God knows she had given him an opportunity. She’d grabbed hold of him, practically forced herself on him – what could the poor man have done, thrown her in the fireplace? For him, it had been a matter of merest proximity – that was all. She’d never kissed anybody before, and he’d almost forgotten how, it had been so long. What a sad pair they were. Though they were not really a pair at all, of course.
‘Very well,’ she said firmly. ‘It shall not happen again.’
