Allison Lane (30 page)

“What was that?”  His fingers slid along her shoulders.

“It was quite unlike me to reveal our night together, even in the throes of temper.  Could I have somehow done it deliberately?”

“Anything is possible.”  His mind was on her soft skin.

“But that makes me no better than Cecilia.”  She was close to tears. 

“You are nothing like Cecilia,” he said, shaking her lightly.  “And even if I believed that you revealed it on purpose – which I don’t – I would not care.  I’ve wanted you since awakening that morning.  I would have bared the truth myself if you hadn’t beaten me to it.  I love you, Elizabeth.  That is all that matters.”

“Really?”

He laughed.  “You’re right.  I also want to marry you.  Are you ready to put me out of my misery?”

“Why wait until morning?  I will be honored to be your wife.”

“Thank God.”  He drew her into another kiss.

Elizabeth matched him touch for touch, joy flooding her with warmth.  She had never believed such pleasure was possible, but she could no longer deny the depth of his love.  What else could have overcome his life-long terror?  The future beckoned, offering a reality that far exceeded even her most fanciful dreams.

“When shall we schedule the ceremony?” she murmured some time later.

He slipped her cloak off, folding it into a rough pallet.  “Mid-May is as early as we can do it without causing talk.  Grandfather will insist on London – every Whitfield in centuries has wed at Westminster, drat their taste for staging spectacles.  But a month in Town will introduce you to Society.  And our wedding will not only add interest to the Season but will provide an excellent excuse for skipping the rest of it.”

“You really do hate London, don’t you?”

“It isn’t London as much as the toadying, for I’m often in Town on business.  But I am no more than a moneyed title to the
ton
.  Even though I can now ignore the fortune hunters, there are still myriad lads who want favors and nearly as many reformers demanding support for this charity or that.  I prefer choosing my own causes.”  His hand slid from her shoulder to her breast.  “But you might enjoy occasional visits.  There are museums, theater, and some rather interesting gatherings of intellectuals that I refrained from mentioning to Cecilia.  And your publisher is there.”

She gasped, for he had unfastened her gown and was now caressing her breast directly.  “So Mother and Cecilia will get to visit London after all.”

“We can work out the details later.  A really thorough compromise requires all our attention.”  Laying her on the pallet, he pulled his cloak over them.

Elizabeth worked his jacket off while he kissed her boneless.  The sensations he raised drove all memory of her brush with death from her mind.  And his caresses built so much desire that she nearly missed his last coherent words.

“Just don’t ever let me read about this in one of your books.”

Copyright © 1999 by Susan Ann Pace

Originally published by Signet Regency (0451197909)

Electronically published in 2006 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads

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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.