Page 59 of The Marquess’s Forbidden Bride

‘No, but thank you.’

Claire stood. ‘Then I’d better return to my nurslings. Susanna is much improved, but now Hartley is coming down with the same congestion.’

‘Take care that you don’t succumb yourself!’ Emma said, rising to give her friend a hug.

‘I’m an old campaigner and never ill, fortunately. You will let me know if you change your mind and decide to remain in London? Or if I can do anything, anything at all, to assist?’

‘I will.’

Charles stood and bowed as Claire walked out. While he hesitated, uncertain how to proceed, to his surprise, Emma took his arm.

‘Walk in the garden with me?’ She gave him a gallows grin. ‘One benefit of being ruined: I no longer have to follow all of Society’s stupid rules to protect my “reputation”.’

‘If Lady Englemere will allow.’

‘Go, go,’ Emma’s sister said. ‘Nothing can harm her now, and I’d have her enjoy the comfort of your company.’

Charles walked out with Emma on his arm, his mind churning. This dreadful outcome seemed impossible, unbelievable. All through the night, after the interview with Lady Routham, the drive to London, he somehow thought there must be some way for Emma to avoid ruin and the social isolation that would mean if she refused to marry Aldersby. But with her sister talking of her husband settling dowry money to provide for her support, it meant even Lady Englemere, who must be as furious about events as he was, saw no way to retrieve the situation.

He was relieved, though not surprised, that Emma wouldn’t succumb to accepting Aldersby. But reluctant as he was to rush into the breech with an offer of his own, recalling her insistence on not wanting to draw him into the scandal, he felt he must seize this opportunity to propose what he felt was the only solution.

It meant leaping into a commitment before he was truly ready—but of what importance was his uncertainty compared with the imperative to protect the woman he was coming to love?

‘You can’t really wish to go into exile,’ he said as they headed down the first garden path.

‘Society won’t give me much choice. But it’s not so bad an ending. Englemere, sympathetic to the circumstances, will allow me the dowry funds. I’ll be that “third daughter”, able to immerse myself in my plant experiments, and I’ll have my aunt Felicia’s company.’

‘Could you truly be happy with that? Banished, your reputation unfairly tarnished?’

She shrugged. ‘Aunt Felicia survived it. Eventually thrived, even. I expect I shall, too.’

‘There is another solution to salvage the situation.’

He took a deep breath. Now that the moment had come, panicky misgivings jabbed at his resolve. Would he end by alienating her completely? Should he emphasise the congenial friendship he was certain she felt for him and not risk speaking of love? His brain going blank, stumbling over the word, he blurted, ‘M-marry me.’

She stopped short and looked up, shaking her head as if she hadn’t heard aright. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘You, your sister, Claire—all have said only marriage could truly preserve your reputation. So—marry me. I know neither of us had contemplated taking such a step now, but—we have a deep bond of friendship already. Don’t you feel it? We’ve hinted that it might become something deeper, later. I think we could rub along well together already, so…why not begin now?’

He realised he was babbling but couldn’t seem to stop. ‘True, after such a scandal being bruited about, marriage might not restore your reputation with the highest sticklers, but you won’t be totally ostracised. Your position as marchioness will bring you power and influence. You know I admire and respect your passion for your work and will never stand in your way. Then…there are those kisses, you know. You’d be able to experience them and everything else that comes after, fully and completely,’ he finished in a rush.

There, he said it, his heart hammering in mingled terror and excitement at the prospect. No going back now.

Looking neither shocked nor ecstatic, for a moment she simply gazed up at him wonderingly. ‘You dear, dear man!’ she said at last. ‘You are wonderfully kind to offer yourself as a sacrifice, but as you just said, you do not intend to wed anytime soon, not when you still have so much to do and learn as you settle into your new role. You don’t need to be saddled with an unwanted wife—and an infamous one, at that! I shall forever treasure the nobility of your offer, but I cannot accept it.’

‘Are you sure?’ he asked, not exactly surprised that she’d refused him, given how upset she was—but shocked by the unexpected depth of his disappointment. ‘Don’t give me a final answer now,’ he urged. ‘Take time to think about it.’

She shook her head. ‘No, I will not keep you in suspense. I don’t know for sure what I shall do beyond leaving London. Circumstances are still too unsettled to make any firm plans. But if you truly wish to do something to help me, kiss me. Make me forget all this ugliness. Blot out the memory of an embrace that filled me with revulsion and replace it with one of pure delight.’

He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should continue to press her, then deciding that would only make matters worse. If kissing was all he could do for her now, he was certainly ready to oblige. He drew her into his arms as he had longed to do since he saw her distraught face after returning from the garden last night and kissed her.

Though he began it soft and sweet, she responded with such fierce passion that he soon was overwhelmed by a matching urgency, tangling his tongue with hers as she opened eagerly to him. Binding her against him, his fingers wrapped in her curls, he explored her mouth, scoured her lips, then trailed fierce kisses down her neck, across the shell of her ears, into the hollow of her collarbone beneath her cloak.

At length, he forced himself to pull away, heart pounding and chest heaving.

‘Are you sure,’ he asked when he could speak again, ‘that you won’t wed me?’

It took her a moment to bring her own breathing under control. ‘Unfair advantage, asking me after such a kiss! But no. It’s likely now that I shall never marry. Now, before you tempt me to forget that, we should go back. I must start packing. I want to leave London tomorrow. I can’t wait to get back to the quiet green fields of Wellingford.’