“Would you kiss me again?” she murmured. “I want to know if I imagined what happened between us in the coach.”
He didn’t move, for he was captivated by her full lips. He wanted to taste them again, just as she wanted to kiss him. But if he dared to give rein to those feelings, he sensed that he would lose control of himself.
She stood on tiptoe, rising to meet him. David caught her and threaded his hands through her hair. Before she could touch her mouth to his, he pressed a brief kiss upon her lips. The moment he did, he felt her tension. She’d wanted the kiss of a husband, and he’d given the kiss of a friend.
“You’re afraid,” she accused, and he said nothing to deny it. It wasn’t fear that held him back. It was the sense that if he claimed her with a husband’s right, he couldn’t turn back. Something about Amelia Andrews tempted him beyond measure.
“Try again,” she urged.
And this time, he kissed her deeply, forcing her mouth to open to him. He framed her face with his hands, claiming her lips. He tasted her uncertainty and a hint of longing. Her arms twined around his neck, drawing him closer while she kissed him back. It wasn’t the kiss of a reluctant bride; instead, her mouth opened, inviting more. He could give her that.
Drawing her up against the wall, he nipped at her upper lip and felt the answering shudder of yearning. She answered his kiss with her own unbridled passion. And God help him, he was nearing the edge of control.
“I can’t think when you kiss me,” she whispered against his mouth.
Neither can I.He let his hands slide down her shoulders to her waist. “Was that better?” She nodded with a shaky smile, and he took her hand. There was a trace of unrest in her demeanor, but they walked together back to the parlor.
Amelia paused a moment, and before they stepped through the doorway, she turned to him.
In a low voice, she threw down a gauntlet of her own. “If you marry me now, Lord Castledon, I want to be treated like a wife. Not a companion.”
It was clear that she had no intention of fading into the background as a mother to Christine. She wanted to be his in every way, not only in name. He reached out to touch her cheek. “Perhaps.”
It wasn’t the answer she wanted, but he could make no promises. He hardly trusted himself around Amelia. Her kiss pushed him past the edge of reason, beckoning him toward a new addiction. If he did share a physical marriage with her, he suspected it would only awaken a hunger that could never be sated.
The wedding was over so quickly, Amelia could scarcely remember the troth she’d pledged. The earl had touched his mouth to hers, and once she’d become his wife, she couldn’t quite grasp the reality. She was now the Countess of Castledon, stepmother to a young girl she’d never met.
They enjoyed cakes and light refreshments after the wedding, but owing to Margaret’s absence, it wasn’t much of a celebration. “This seems so strange,” Amelia confessed. “Almost as if it happened to someone else.”
The earl nodded, appearing more than a little distracted. She wondered if there was anything she could say to reassure him. Or better, she could ask about her new stepdaughter.
“When will I meet Christine?” she asked.
At the mention of his daughter, Lord Castledon relaxed a little. “I could send you on to Castledon in the morning,” he offered. “Parliament will be out of session soon enough.”
The idea of arriving at his house alone was not a welcome one. “I’d rather wait,” she admitted. It would be awkward enough to become part of an unfamiliar household. Without the earl there to introduce her, she’d feel even more out of place.
“We won’t have to stay in London very long,” he said. “I hope you can find a way to amuse yourself.”
She nodded, but inwardly, her thoughts were still with Margaret. “Will you keep your promise to send men after my sister?”
“I said I would.” He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “I know how close you are.”
A sudden thought occurred to Amelia, that she knew very little about the earl. She had no idea about the rest of his family. “What of you?” she asked. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
He shook his head. “My sister died when she was ten, of scarlet fever.”
“And your parents?”
He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I’m the only one left, I’m afraid. They both died shortly after Katherine did. First my father, then my mother.”
She’d never realized that he was all but an orphan. “That’s terrible. No wonder you were so glum all those years.”
“I’d rather not speak of it, if you don’t mind.”
“No, I don’t suppose it’s a very pleasant wedding conversation,” she agreed. But it made her realize how very difficult those years must have been. It was a wonder he’d attended any society events at all, and it certainly explained why he’d worn black all the time.
But when she peered closer at his coat, she saw that his waistcoat was dark green. Leaning forward, she touched the brocade,and for some reason, it made her smile. “You’re not wearing black anymore.”
