Кейси Майклс – Regency Vows: A Gentleman 'Til Midnight / The Trouble with Honour / An Improper Arrangement / A Wedding By Dawn / The Devil Takes a Bride / A Promise by Daylight (страница 63)
“Better!” He tightened his fingers in her hair, wanting the impossible: to kill a man that, according to her testimony before the committee, was already dead.
“You know bloody well the life that awaited me here. The whispers, the ostracism, the kind of man who would have offered for poor, ruined Lady Katherine.”
He forced himself to inhale. “And the alternative?”
“Studying the stars through Kisa’s telescope.” Her expression softened, and her fisted hands uncurled against his chest. “Savoring pomegranate seeds on a hot day. Trying not to laugh when Mejdan’s mother scolded us for talking too much.” She searched his face. “Please understand, James. I thought I would live there forever. It wasn’t a large household. We all lived together—Mejdan’s wives, daughters.”
Concubines.
“They were my friends. My family, even.”
“Until al-Zayar died.”
A shadow darkened her eyes.
“You grieve for him.” He caught himself before sharper words shot from his lips.
“He never mistreated me. It could have been so much worse. Would have been, if his mother hadn’t helped me that night. James, please—”
“I know. I know.” He struggled to calm himself in the face of something he couldn’t change. “I understand.”
* * *
KATHERINE COULD SEE it was a lie. Even in the near-dark, his murderous expression was clear: he wanted to raise Mejdan from the dead just for the pleasure of killing him. Perhaps it had been a mistake to entrust James with this. But if they were to be married...
Oh, God.
Perhaps this entire thing was folly. He still had not renewed his proposal. Marry me, Katherine. The words were so simple. Why had he not said them?
She needed to make him understand about Algiers. “Without Riuza’s help, I would have been trapped when Mejdan’s son took over the household, and all could have been exactly as you imagine.” James’s chest was taut beneath her hands, rising and falling with his angry breath.
“You should have gone to the consulate.”
“With Anne in my belly?”
“At least you would have been safe!”
“I was safe.”
“Rowing out with William to steal a ship from the harbor? Good God. When I think what you must have endured...” His arms came around her, and he held her tightly against him.
His furious heartbeat thudded in her ear. “Endure is relative. You know that.”
“You never should have had to endure anything,” he said against her hair. “And I intend to see that you never do again.”
Never again. She pulled back a little and tried to read his thoughts, but couldn’t. She made herself take a chance. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life seeing pity in your eyes and knowing you see me as a tragedy.”
“That’s not what I see, Katherine. Not at all.” She saw the moment he realized what she’d said. His hands came to her face. “Then you’ll marry me?” The words might have sounded like a command if not for the uncertainty coloring them.
“I will.” She barely managed the words.
His hands tightened a little on her cheeks. “Immediately. Tomorrow morning.”
It was mere hours away. Her pulse danced wildly. “I suppose that would be wise,” she said, cursing the nerves in her voice. “Under the circumstances. Do you not agree?”
A muscle flexed in his jaw, and triumph flashed in his eyes. Instead of answering, he kissed her.
NICK SAT ACROSS the desk from Lord Cantwell, negotiating his own future with all the warmth and excitement of a shipping transaction. In fact, it was a shipping transaction—a bloody irregular one.
“I have good reason to believe my daughter is headed for the Mediterranean,” Cantwell was saying. “You would agree to pursue her all the way there, if necessary?”
For fifty thousand pounds, he would pursue her to the bloody interior of China. “I will.”
“As a condition of this marriage, I shall expect nothing less.”
“Nor shall I.”
Cantwell exhaled. Bushy blond brows dove over bright blue eyes, and he assessed Nick over steepled hands. “It’s not in my interest to say this, but my daughter is a wild harridan. Marriage to her won’t be easy.”
“Under the circumstances, I didn’t expect that it would.” But it would be profitable, and that was all that mattered. “I shall find her and bring her back to England, where I assure you I shall keep her under control.”
Cantwell gave a laugh. “I assure you, Taggart, if it were that easy, I would have kept her under control. In any case, I intend to obtain a special dispensation. Although I expect the marriage to be performed at the earliest opportunity once you find her. I don’t care how you get it done—only that you do. You won’t find any challenge from me on that point.”
“Understood.” Cantwell had no cause for concern. It was either this or lose Taggart to Holliswell, and Nick wasn’t going to risk letting the answer to all his problems slip from his grasp. He would marry Lady India the moment he found her.
“And in the meantime,” Cantwell went on, “I shall speak with Mr. Holliswell.” Cantwell smiled. “You won’t need to concern yourself there.”
Nick might have smiled, too, under other circumstances. Already his thoughts hurtled forward. He was engaged to be married, after all—this time, to save himself.
* * *
THE HASTY WEDDING and hurried coach ride hardly left time to think. At the same time, there’d been too much time to think, staring for hours and hours at the passing countryside, unable to speak of important matters in front of Anne and Miss Bunsby.
Married. To the man who had sunk the Merry Sea.
Now Katherine stood in her new apartment in James’s London house, feeling as if she’d been tossed for days by high seas.
Married. To Captain Warre.
A warm feeling snuck through her—the same warm feeling she’d allowed herself to sample each time she’d looked at him in the coach. Each night at the inns where they stayed, when she watched him climb into bed with her. Each morning when she woke to find herself in his arms.
Every moment she expected to realize she’d made an enormous, irreversible mistake. But then he would look at her with those green eyes full of satisfaction, on fire for the woman she was, with no trace of the pity she feared. And a little more of her resistance would slough away, leaving behind something new and hopeful and alive.
He strode into her room now, all outrage. “Good God—I’ll dismiss every last one of them!” A maid scurried out, and she watched him bolt the bedroom door against the savage hordes masquerading as footmen bringing in their trunks.
“Would you rather the trunks had stayed on the coach?” she asked.
“I would rather not have to think of trunks at all,” he said darkly, coming toward her. “Or footmen. Or—” he waved the letter Bates had given them on their arrival “—emergencies at Croston. I would much prefer to think exclusively—”
“Wait, what are you— Put me down!”
“—of you.” He carried her to the bed and pinned her to it with his weight. “Very well. I shall happily keep you down for as long as you like.” He bent his head for a searing kiss, and she drank it in hungrily.
This was no captivity.
That warm feeling worked its magic again, and she suppressed a bubble of laughter. The Lords would hardly attaint her now.
“It’s late,” he said, resting his forehead on hers, “but I’m determined to see Nick tonight, and a few others, as well.”
“We probably have ten minutes at the most before your sister learns we’re in London and calls round,” Katherine said.
“That long? Really? I’d say five, more like, and that’s if your friend the Dowager Lady Pennington doesn’t learn of it first.” He raised a wicked brow. “One can accomplish much in five minutes.”
“You’re insatiable.”
“I could say the same of you.” He tugged on her lower lip with his teeth and kissed her again.
There was a knock. “Bates,” he muttered, rolling off her and stalking to the door. He cracked it open with a terse suggestion for Bates’s permanent holiday destination, and she heard poor Bates announce that Honoria was waiting in the salon.
James glanced over his shoulder at Katherine. “Six minutes. She’s losing her touch.” And then, to Bates, “Tell my sister we’re not receiving.”
He closed the door in Bates’s face, but before he’d crossed the room there was another knock.
“That’ll be Honoria herself,” Katherine said, smiling at the expression on his face.
James wrenched the door open. “The Dowager Lady Pennington was just admitted below,” Bates apprised them.