“Am I that hysterical that you must make jokes to lighten my mood.”
“We’re beyond kissing cousins. I asked you to marry me in my carriage. I meant it.”
“I suppose lying in bed with you twice in three days is too much.”
“The problem is it’s not enough.” He laced his fingers with hers. “I try to lead a very moral life.”
“Now you want to make me laugh.”
“Well, since I have a ward and you keep flopping into my bed, perhaps it’s best if there was a legal reason to explain this. Marry me.”
“If I said no, you’ll make me leave this room?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, claiming a spot on her neck that seemed particularly sensitive to nips.
“Isn’t this something to discuss when we both can get up and leave?”
“Wouldn’t a matchmaker prefer a groom who couldn’t?”
“I’m not a consolation prize. Marriage doesn’t solve all ills. I thought wedding Colin would make my mourning for my mother go away. It just brought a different sadness.”
“Gantry told me about Markham’s coming here. He’s conferring with my mother.”
“I thought Lady Bodonel was going on holiday.”
“The chance to lord over me would make her delay her friendships.”
“That’s a shame. She looked happy to be going.”
“Yes, I wish she had gone, too. Now, the odds of her coming to visit have doubled. I don’t like those odds.”
She frowned at him, like she’d drank Lionel’s pap milk.
That soft heart of this woman even cared for Lady Bodonel, someone who’d snubbed her.
“I wish my mother had what she’s looking for, but you’re trying to deter from my point. It won’t work. Getting me to babble won’t take away my offer.”
“I’m not what your world, your English world, expects for the wife of a peer—a duke, no less.”
“You’re not what anyone expects. That’s why I fancy you.”
She turned away, putting her back to him. “I’m not ready to hear how I took advantage of the Duke of Repington while he was indisposed. Tricked him on laudanum.”
“I do hate the stuff, but no one takes advantage of me. You’re a rake in training. I’m seasoned.”
“I don’t look like what they want for you. The duke’s dark duchess, his difficult wife, his different wife. I’d be safer in Demerara, all of us would be. You’d love my father’s house. The sea air will be good for your recovery. I can picture you and Lionel rocking in a hammock.”
“That sounds sweet, but I must tell you—”
“Hush.” She kissed his lips.
The taste of her tears and coconuts, the sweetness of her bread flavored their embrace. This lady was so dear. It tore him up to break her heart.
“Tell me you’ll think of it, Repington. We could be safe. I wouldn’t have to be fearful another minute. Markham is after you.”
Patience cared for him. He knew that. Somewhere beneath her silky mobcap and glorious braided chignon was bravery and dignity and hopes for their future.
It was his duty to set her straight. “You’ll be my beautiful wife, Patience Amelia Strathmore, the one educated by the finest tutors, fluent in two languages.”
