Surprised by her anger, Malcolm took a step back. “I did not know my enemy was courting you until it was too late. I couldn’t help myself falling in love. I was not thinking of your best interests, or of what might happen if things went as far as they have. I was overcome.”
“And I feel like a steak torn between dogs!Ifyou loved me, you would fight for me. You promised as much last night!”
“He will ruin you, Eliza. He said as much. His anger was so great today that he shoved Turner to the floor and accosted me in my study. We nearly came to blows. He has the power to do great harm to you, and I cannot let that happen. It would be selfish.”
“You arealreadyselfish!” Eliza drew back to slap him and he caught her by the wrist, clasping her to him with a force she felt helpless to fight. Her arousal and anger surged as he seized her lips and kissed her so deeply her breath left her lungs. Eliza pushed him away. “No!” He searched her face. Eliza knew how she looked in a temper—desperate,flushed, manic. “Do you truly never wish to be parted from me?” she demanded. “Or were your words among the roses before you kissed me a pretty lie? I hear you’re quite good at lying to women.”
Malcolm heaved a sigh. “Una has found you, I see. What did she tell you?”
“That I shouldn’t trust you with my heart.”
“Una and I have a long history. She had a false impression of something that happened between us once. She’s a troubled soul. I was never in love with her. Our engagement was of our fathers’ making.” He took her hand. “With all my heart, Eliza, I swear that I love you. Only you.”
“Then prove it.” Her heart thudded so loudly she was sure he could hear it. Suddenly, she didn’t care about anything but the burgeoning heat she saw in his eyes. “Marry me. Marry me and you’ll never have to worry about money, or Eastleigh, or being alone in the world again.”
“So soon? Do you trust me that much?” His voice was thick, choked with emotion. “Do you trust I am not the man others have said I am?”
“Against all my better judgment, God help me, I do!”
He gave a blunted laugh. “Oh, my own darling ... many would say you are a fool.”
“I know that I am!” Eliza laughed, her tears falling freely as a torrent of emotion washed over her. “Will you make me your wife, Malcolm? All I want is to be yours. To share my fortune, my body, and my life with you.”
“How under heaven could I say no?”
Malcolm claimed her lips again, his kiss fierce and carnal. Eliza knotted her fingers through his hair, returning his passion with her own. He gripped the fabric of her velvet dressing gown and pulled it free from her shoulders. The ruched neckline of her nightdress followed, spilling down over her bosom. He bent and kissed her there as she swayed, breathless in his arms.
“Do you want me?” he rasped. “Here and now, like this? Not in our marriage bed like a lady?”
A proper ladywouldhave pushed him away, denying him until after their wedding. But Eliza wasn’t proper. She never had been. She arched wantonly toward him. “There will be time for vows and marriage beds later. Right now, having you ravish me is all I can think about.”
A wicked grin spread over his lips. “You’re driving me mad.”
“Good,” Eliza said. “Show me just how mad I make you.”
He lifted her by the hips, carrying her to the potting table. His eyes traveled over her plump thighs and belly, burning her with their heat as she offered herself to him in a haze of rampant lust.
When they came apart, flushed with their exertions, Eliza cupped his face in her hands and held his gaze. The rain had started up once more, steady and soft against the window. She pulled in a steadying breath. “Meet me at the carriage house in an hour. I don’t care where we go or how we do it. I want to be your wife by morning.”
CHAPTER 13
Eliza pulled her trunk from beneath her bed and mindlessly shoved stockings, drawers, and shifts into it. She had no idea where they were going or how long they’d be gone, only that Malcolm had reassured her he’d find an authority to oversee their vows. As she was buttoning her summer wool traveling suit, she heard the front door creak open downstairs. Lydia’s step whispered on the marble floor below.
“Liza! Are you awake?”
“Upstairs, cher!” Eliza called. “I have news.”
Lydia appeared in the doorway, her hair a wreath of frizzing ringlets. A glossy sheen winked in the whites of her eyes. Her chin and cheeks were the color of claret. Eliza smirked. “You’re drunk.”
Her sister frowned. “No, ma’am. I am not,” she slurred. She wobbled over to the foot of the bed and sat. “Sarah is, though. I put her to bed after the other ladies left. She was wretched.”
“See, you’re already practicing at becoming a nurse.”
“It’s the middle of the night. Why are you getting dressed?”
Eliza crossed the room and took Lydia’s hands. “Sister, Malcolm and I are eloping.”
“What?” Lydia made a dry clucking at the back of her throat. “No. You’re not going to marryanyoneuntil banns have been read and you’ve the blessing of a priest.”
