She’d thought resignation would be the overriding expression on his handsome visage, but it was more possessive as he rose to his full height once more, looming close.
Oh, lawks, what had she done?
Would he kiss her? To seal the agreement? They’d never kissed with forethought…at least not on her part.
“Mr Beckford informed me you were raised in your mother’s religion which makes the process easier. Despite your voluble curses and praises of the saints, you are not in fact Catholic. Did your father not protest?”
“It was my mother’s wish, and I don’t believe Da much cared.”
An imperious eyebrow raised in query but she so hated explaining herself. At least they had that in common.
“My mother fell ill after my birth and never recovered. Da was too distracted.”
“I hope you do not require your father to attend the wedding? You are of age, and Mr Beckford stated that he held guardianship whilst you are in England.”
Aideen frowned. That was true but surely ’twas too soon to be worrying about guest lists. “I assumed a long engagement to be certain we can–”
“Three days.”
“What?”
“We will be married in St George’s, three days hence.”
“But…but… That church will be unavailable for months. There’s a waiting list.” Curiously, that was the sole argument which came to mind.
“I am a duke and lists do not apply,” he proclaimed.
Tapping that damnable cane and dislodging a flagstone, he continued, “Directly after this meeting, I will approach the Archbishop for a special licence. He attended dinner last month, so there should be no problem as we had a different chef then. I shall also inform Prinny this afternoon. He owes me a mint so won’t kick up a storm.”
Aideen’s mind addled. Dining with the Archbishop. Meeting? Four days.Prinny! “I don’t think–”
But her thoughts were ignored as her upper arms were grasped and a firm mouth pressed itself against hers.
He briefly pulled away. “I want you, my chocolate-coated cherry…and soon,” he muttered, before hauling her close again.
The polite clearing of a throat made itself known from the house and she was instantly released.
“Three days,” he growled and strode off without looking back – a rather bad habit of his.
Grumbling at his high-handed tyrannical manner, Aideen glared at the retreating upright spine.
She supposed she ought to be flattered he wanted her, despite her lowly status, but that wasn’t why she was marrying him.
It was because she desired the damn man as well…and soon.
Aideen sighed. No carriage rides in Hyde Park then.
Chapter Eight
Only two friends are necessary.
Rakecombe poked at his dinner.
It didn’t resemble any rabbit he was aware of, and so sighing, he sprawled back and quaffed claret instead.
The dining room echoed to the clank of his crystal goblet on the polished surface, and a footman hastily refilled it before returning to his station at the wall.
Now the lone sound in the cavernous room was the ticking of the clock over the mantel. He gazed around the table that seated thirty-six and wondered why he hadn’t eaten in the study.
