“I had the marriage contract prepared this morning.” Heywood slid the documents closer to Archer. “Look it over, but remember I am not up for negotiations,” the earl said with an air of superiority.
Archer grinned with confidence as he flipped through to the signature page. “Quill, if you please,” he said without looking up. He didn’t give a damn what the contract said. All he cared about was Lady Emma and spending his life with her.
Heywood handed Archer an ink-dipped quill. “Your actions, please me,” he said, some of the gruffness vanishing from his tone.
“It is your daughter I wish to please.” Archer blew on the wet ink of his signature. “I should like to marry at once before the scandal grows.”
“Smart man. I have it on the best of authority that the entire village is already gossiping and expecting the wedding.” Heywood leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “All the same, I think too much haste will add fuel for the stool pigeons. The bans will be read as expected. Three weeks shall pass soon enough.”
Archer blew out a breath and averted his gaze to the floor-to-ceiling window behind the earl’s desk. He had no wish to wait, but the earl had a point. Furthermore, the delay would give him time to win Emma’s heart. He wanted to marry her with a fierceness that surprised him, but he wanted her to come willingly too.
He blew out a breath. “I suppose you are right.”
“It will also allow you time to woo my daughter and overcome her objections,” Heywood said.
“Right you are.” Archer’s attention returned to the earl. “Though, I hoped a good night’s sleep would serve that purpose.”
The earl chuckled, then sobered, leaning forward. “Let me tell you a few things about Emma. She’s headstrong and more intelligent than any lady out to be. It will take far more to sway her mind than a night’s rest.” He stared at Archer for a heartbeat, then added in a firm tone, “Do not disappoint me.”
“Or what?” Archer asked, arching a playful brow, “Pistols at dawn?”
* * *
“Stop this nonsense at once,” Emma declared as she marched into the office, heart pounding. What the devil was wrong with Lord Linley?
She squared her shoulders; her gaze moving from Lord Linley to Father. “I will not have talk of duels.”
Both men stared at her, but neither spoke.
She moved to the desk, then scowled at Lord Linley before her gaze came to rest on the contract. “I am prepared to speak of marriage.”
Father smirked at Lord Linley. “Good luck,” he said, then stood and addressed his daughter. “I believe the two of you require some privacy. I will leave the door cracked.”
Emma nodded to Father, then waited for him to leave before turning back to Lord Linley. “I have long hoped that my parents would choose a husband for me but never believed they would. Theirs is a love match, and they wanted the same for me.” She sighed, her shoulders rising then falling as the weight of her confession left her. “That said, I am a sensible lady, and I loath husband hunting.”
Lord Linley smiled as he took a step toward her, capturing her hand and pulling her close. “It seems your hunt is over.”
Emma brought her hand up to rest between them, her palm firmly against his chest. “Allow me to finish.”
“You have my attention,” he said, though he did not release his hold on her.
She took a deep breath, then let the words spill forth. “I do not object to their choice, but I do object to your being forced. In my perfect imaginings, the man chosen for me would come willingly.”
She averted her gaze for a moment as she gathered her courage. “Our situation leaves me at a loss, for I know that the sensible thing to do is marry you, but it is also unfair to force your suit.” She drew in a breath before continuing, her heart heavy at the idea of setting him free.
Still, she knew she must, and so she continued. “I absolve you of your responsibility. That kiss we shared was two-sided, and I am prepared to face the consequences of my actions. You needn’t take me to wife.”
His eyes narrowed, studying her for long heartbeats before he asked, “Are you quite finished?”
Heart pounding and hands shaking, Emma nibbled at her lower lip. “Yes.”
“Then it is my turn to speak.” Lord Linley held her tighter. His gaze bore into hers. “You are my choice. I would have kissed you years ago if you didn’t always appear so damned unapproachable.”
“No.” Emma shook her head. “You only kissed me because of an ill-conceived bet. I heard your friend say as much.”
“Are you mad? I kissed you because you are a beautiful woman. Because you captured my interest and lit my blood on fire. I kissed you because I wanted to.” He stroked his hands up and down her arms. “I wish I could say that I am sorry, but I am not. I would not change a thing I did for my actions, and that bet brought me to you.”
His words were sweet, and they shot right to her heart. It was everything she’d wanted to hear from him and more.
