With Isabella on his arm, Anthony started leading her toward the exit, only too happy to get away from these people who had been so eager to pass judgment on her only moments earlier. As they drew up to where Lady Harriett was standing with her parents, however, Anthony turned a dangerous glare on Lord Crooning. “I did not wish to publically humiliate you, my lord,” he said in a muffled tone. “But I think it prudent to tell you that your daughter is to be found at the core of all this spiteful gossip. Had she been a man, I would have called her out. Do whatever you must to keep her under control and out of my sight, or so help me God I’ll see her shunned and ostracized to such a degree that her only option will be to leave the country. Do I make myself clear?”
Lord Crooning gave a curt nod of response, his eyes flickering with something akin to fear, and as Anthony’s gaze went to Mrs. Crooning and Lady Harriett herself, both kept their faces downcast, the arrogance they’d both displayed in his parlor only a week earlier completely gone. “I hope you’ll forgive me for bringing you into all of this,” Anthony said as they passed Mr. Roberts in the doorway.
“You did the right thing,” Mr. Roberts said, taking Isabella’s hand and bowing over it to show his regard. He might have had his ulterior motives for wishing to marry her, but Isabella had had hers too—theirs hadnot beena love match but one from which both parties stood to gain, and however much Anthony had disliked Mr. Roberts’s intentions toward her, he’d proven himself a gentleman in the end.
Thanking him, Anthony led Isabella outside to join her parents, who stood waiting for them.
“Congratulations,” Lady Margaret crooned, embracing her daughter while Mr. Chilcott shook Anthony’s hand. “And welcome to the family, Your Grace,” she added, releasing Isabella, whose face was beaming with unabashed joy.
“I should say the same to you,” Anthony grinned. For the first time since his father’s death, everything in his life felt good and right. Now, if he could only get Isabella off to the altar as quickly as possible, he’d be most content. Of course, there was also his mother to consider. He would have to send word to her immediately, and once she heard the news, a quick marriage by special license would be out of the question.
Not that he minded too much—she deserved the joy of helping Isabella arrange all of those little details that women were so fond of. The only problem this presented was that he’d probably have to wait a couple of months before taking his lovely bride to his bed. He groaned. Somehow, he’d have to find a solution to this unless he wished to subject himself to a constant state of discomfort. Needless to say, he did not. Of course, she’d snuck out of her home before on the night of the ball, so perhaps ... ?
He escorted them all back to the Chilcott residence, but as soon as Isabella’s mother and father had alit from the carriage, he waited a moment before helping Isabella down, affording them a bit of privacy, since her parents had now almost reached the front door. With her hand tucked snuggly against the crook of his elbow, he leaned close to her as he whispered, “Any chance I might convince you to have another midnight escapade?”
Her head turned sharply toward his, and though her eyes were initially filled with surprise, they quickly started to sparkle with mischief. “Why, Your Grace, I do believe you’re hoping to seduce me.” There was a slight twitch at the corner of her mouth, suggesting that she was struggling to keep a straight face.
“Meet me at the garden gate tonight at eleven?” he pressed, determined to come to an agreement before they arrived at the front door, where her parents stood smiling and waiting for them to join them.
“I’ll be there,” she promised just as a lovely pink hue flared in her cheeks. And then their moment of privacy was gone and they were being ushered inside for tea while Lady Margaret prattled on about how happy she was for her daughter and how they must sit down together with Anthony’s mother and discuss the wedding gown, the flowers and whatever else would be required to make the big day perfect. Anthony, on the other hand, said nothing, his thoughts straying to the promise of what that night would bring.
With a thick, woolen shawl draped about her shoulders, Isabella quietly opened her bedroom window at precisely five minutes before eleven and climbed out, careful not to wake Jamie, who’d fallen peacefully asleep an hour earlier.
Easing herself down from the ledge, Isabella closed the window, jamming a wad of fabric between the two frames to hold them in place while she was away. She then walked brusquely around to the front of the house and down the garden path to where Anthony stood waiting. “My horse is this way,” he whispered as he placed his arm about her shoulders and hurried her along. “I thought it best to leave him tethered a short distance from here so his whinnying wouldn’t arouse suspicion.”
“How thoughtful of you,” Isabella said beneath the strong weight of his arm. Heat coursed through her, and for the first time that day, she considered what she was actually getting herself into by agreeing to meet him like this. Her heart’s pace quickened with anticipation, for there was no question about it—Anthony would not wish to get her alone like this for a mere chat.
“Where are we going?” she asked as soon as they’d located his horse and were riding along the dirt road, increasing the distance between themselves and Moxley.
“Why, to Kingsborough Hall, of course,” he said with distinct amusement in his voice as he urged the horse onward.
Good Lord!
“But that’s ... that’s ...”
“Outrageous?” he offered, his voice still ringing with mirth.
“Well, yes,” she said. She attempted to look back over her shoulder at him, but her position made that impossible. “What if someone sees me? The last thing I wish is to incite more gossip.”
“We’ll just have to be extra careful,” he said as he angled his head to place a kiss against her neck, which in turn made her skin sizzle. “And besides, my mother is out of town, and I have sent all the servants to bed.”
Isabella actually gulped. The consequence of her actions had suddenly become very real, and for a fleeting second she considered asking him to turn the horse about and take her home.
But then she recalled their time together in the barn—how sensual it had been and how utterly incredible. She loved this man and he loved her; they would be married soon, though probably not soon enough. Did she really wish to wait until her wedding night to be with him? The answer rang loud and clear inside her head, and she shook off whatever misgivings remained. In another month or two (depending most likely on how good she would be at convincing their respective mothers to hasten things along) he would be her husband, but for tonight, he would be Anthony, the Duke of Kingsborough—her lover.
It felt both right and wicked all at the same time, sending shivers scurrying down her spine. But then she recalled the book she’d found in his library, and whatever excitement she felt was replaced by a sudden nervousness. He probably had vast amounts of experience in this area, whereas she ... dear God, she knew nothing on the matter.
What if she did something wrong? Something that might displease him or, worse, hurt him? Heaven help her if he suddenly decided that they did not suit after all, due to her lack of expertise in the bedroom. Whatever would she do then? It would be too late and ... and... worst of all, he would see her in a state of complete undress.
Well, she might as well call off the wedding now, because she was only too aware of what she looked like beneath the gentle folds of her gown. She wasn’t fashionably thin, her thighs had too much meat on them, and her breasts were larger than what was considered proper. God help her!
She was so caught up in her frantic imaginings that she barely paid attention to her surroundings until she’d been lifted off his horse, ushered inside Kingsborough Hall through a back entryway and whisked upstairs to his bedroom. Not until the door closed behind her and the lock clicked into place did it dawn on her where she was, and by then, she was in full panic.
She felt his hands upon her shoulders in the next instant and she flinched, stepping away from him as her gaze wandered the room in search of a chair. If she could only sit down a moment, she was sure she’d feel better.
“Is something wrong?” he asked with a hint of concern.
“Oh ... er ... no, not at all.”There!In one corner of the room was a small seating arrangement—two chairs with a table between them. Isabella hurried toward it, feeling in no small part like a complete imbecile as she hastily seated herself in one of them. She then looked at Anthony, who was still standing exactly where she’d left him, regarding her with a bit of a quizzical expression. “I’m just ah ... er ... oh, bother!”
