An Ideal Husband? (16 page)

‘I suppose you want me to thank you for your forbearance then, for resisting your baser instincts,’ she said, tears brimming in her eyes. ‘It was an act of singular virtue. It won’t happen again. I have learnt my lesson.’

‘Thank me for what?’ Richard asked, remorse
and regret swamping his senses. Sophie made it sound as though he was a saint. He was far from that.

He had gone further than he wanted, but the result would be the same. There could be no objections to their marriage … from anyone. He could make sure that she stayed in his life. He had wanted her to have a choice, but now she had none. He had to keep her off balance and use the desire she felt for him to achieve his goal. He knew the power of seduction and had sworn not to use it against Sophie, but he saw no other way of securing her agreement in marriage.

‘For saving me and reminding me of what could have happened here.’ Sophie made a helpless gesture with her hand. ‘I will hate myself enough as it is later. I thought I was better than that, but obviously I was wrong. I overestimated my own virtue. We will have to end after today, never be alone again. I thought you should know I do appreciate the way you have protected me, even from myself.’

‘I think you want me as well.’ He forced his voice to continue on as if she hadn’t spoken. Her virtue did not stand a chance against his seduction. He’d known that since the first time they kissed. Now, he’d broken his promise. He was seducing her, but seducing her into a marriage,
a marriage which was not the sort she wanted. He could not promise love. He didn’t believe in it. The very thought of it scared him to death. To love someone was to be abandoned when you needed them the most. When given a choice, those he’d loved had chosen someone else.

His heart thudded so loudly he thought she must hear. Sophie had no choice if she wanted to remain within society—she had to marry him. Just now he’d taken every other option from her.

Because of her desire to appear virtuous, she wouldn’t abandon him, even if she found out what he was truly like. Even if she found out that his mother had not wanted him and his father wasn’t interested in him beyond what was required of his duty.

It bothered him that a small piece of him wanted her to have a choice. For once he wanted someone to choose him, but he also knew he wasn’t prepared to take the risk. He’d deal with the consequences later. He’d trust Sophie’s desire to appear virtuous would outweigh any need to escape from the marriage.

‘There are two people in this carriage, Sophie. You kissed me back, more than dutifully kissed me. There was passion in your kiss and I heard your cry when I suckled your breasts. You enjoyed it. But you deserve better than this for your
first time. You deserve white sheets and a closed door. You deserve time, rather than frenzy. It needs to be done properly, Sophie.’

‘It was wrong of me. It won’t happen again.’ Sophie stared straight ahead, not meeting his eye. ‘No one has to know.’

‘You are wrong there. You and I both know and I have little desire to forget.’

Tears brimmed in her eyes. It took all of his self-control not to pull her into his arms. But he had gone too far already. He had to make certain she would be his. He refused to risk losing her. Once her former guardian returned, the objections to his suit would overwhelm her desire for him. He had to act now. He had to be ruthless about it.

‘But we can be strong,’ she whispered.

‘This thing between us is growing. It is not diminishing.’ He lifted her hand to his lips. ‘Say you feel it as well and it is not just me who is waking every night in a hot sweat with your name on my lips and the dream of you in my arms.’

Sophie knew he was right. The ache in her middle had grown and she knew she craved his touch. For the past ten days, she’d woken with her hand between her legs, a nameless ache in her middle and Richard’s name ringing in her
ears. Every night she promised herself that this time she’d dream of something else and she never did.

During the day, she found herself hoping that he would call unexpectedly and reliving each one of his accidental touches when he was not there. She had taken to sketching the shape of his eyes, the way his hands looked when they held his cane and the curve of his mouth, most especially the curve of his mouth.

She wanted to feel ashamed about what she had done in the carriage, but she found it was impossible. He made her feel womanly and desirable. He was right. She might be wicked, but he was totally different from Sebastian. He had stopped it before she was utterly ruined. It had been him to pull back, not her, and she’d know that to her dying day.

She shook her head and tried to get control of her wayward thoughts. There were so many reasons why they needed to end it today, before the unthinkable happened and she was utterly ruined. But she could not bear the thought of never seeing him again, never hearing his voice or having his lips against hers. But he had said nothing of marriage.

‘I suppose it is best that no one discovered us.’ She waited for his agreement.

‘And if I say that I want you in my bed? I want to spend hours exploring your body? I want to see your golden hair spread out against white-linen sheets. I want to see what moonlight does to your skin. I want to wake up in the morning and have your face be the first thing I see.’

‘It can’t happen.’ She forced her shoulders to relax. The picture he painted was doing strange things to her insides. He had only mentioned desire, she reminded her rebellious heart. And she knew where that led. She refused to go back to that room where she felt unclean and sordid, even for Richard. Silently she bid the picture goodbye. A deep empty well opened within her. Richard Crawford was precisely like Sebastian Cawburn and she’d be wrong to forget that. She’d refused his first offer, had insisted on this sham and why would he ask her again, particularly now when he knew what she was like? ‘You are wrong to ask me.’

‘It can happen.’ He leant forwards and smoothed a tendril of hair from her forehead. ‘It can, Sophie.’

‘How?’ she whispered from aching lips. ‘How can it? If I do that I will be outside society and I refuse to behave that way, even for you, Richard. How can you ask this of me, knowing all that, knowing my background?’

‘You wrong me.’ He gathered her in his arms and pressed his mouth to her hair. ‘There is only one remedy, Sophie. We must marry.’

She leant back against his arms and tried to ignore the sudden leaping of her heart. He wanted to marry her! He was asking her again. She quashed the thought. Men like him dealt in some day, not in reality. They were back to where they had started. ‘You mean in due course. Some day. Easy words, but you are asking me to take an unacceptable risk.’

He laced his fingers through her hand. ‘No, I mean as soon as possible. A special licence. I take full responsibility for what happened here and I would never insult you by making you my mistress. My honour gives me no alternative but to make you my wife … if you will have me.’

‘A special licence?’ Her heart thudded. Richard was utterly serious. And despite her actions, he was prepared to behave honourably. She’d wronged him in thinking he wasn’t safe in carriages. It was she who wasn’t, but this time it had worked out.

‘Neither of us is made of steel. The next time, we might not be so lucky and we might be discovered. The choice would be taken out of your hands. Either marriage to me, or confess to your stepmother on your own and you know she will
look at your state of undress and make the logical conclusion.’

‘But … but …’ Sophie tried to think of a logical reason while her heart soared. Richard was right. They could be married by a special licence. Given Richard’s family background, there would be no problem in getting a licence. He wanted to truly marry her. He felt the same way about her. He had to. She put her hand to her head. Against the odds, he had proposed a second time. If she refused, there would be no third time.

He placed a gentle kiss on the corner of her mouth. The touch was filled with possibility. ‘Say yes, Sophie. Put me out of my agony. Or let me go, but don’t keep torturing me in this way. Say yes, Sophie, and come into my bed. Be my wife, please.’

She knew in that instant she couldn’t allow him to go, even though he had not mentioned finer feelings or love. He made her feel alive. If he went, the world would be a miserable place. She had to take the greatest risk of her life. She had to believe in the romance. She had to do it or face a lifetime of wondering what might have been. He might not have said anything about his finer feelings, but she had to believe in them.
She wanted to believe in this improbable romance.

‘Yes,’ she whispered back. ‘We will marry as soon as possible.’

‘Sophie! What on earth has happened to you?’ Her stepmother’s outraged voice greeted Sophie the instant she walked in the door. And she knew Richard’s ministrations as a lady’s maid had failed.

As she caught sight of her hair, her ripped blouse and her overly kissed mouth in the hall mirror confirmed her hunch. There was no hiding what she had done. She was only thankful that Richard had immediately ordered the carriage to start moving again and that he had simply held her hand all the way back home.

‘Congratulate me, Stepmother.’ A huge bubble of excitement coursed through Sophie’s veins. She cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders. ‘I’m proud to announce I am getting married to Lord Bingfield.’

‘I know you are getting married. When Robert and Henri return from the Continent. It is all decided.’ Her stepmother clasped her hands together. ‘You told me this not three days ago when the news that the settlement had been reached. I’m so grateful that Henri will be able
to help with planning the engagement party. It should be the pinnacle of the summer’s entertainment. An autumn wedding will do.’ Her stepmother walked around Sophie. ‘I want to know what has happened to you! If anyone saw you … well, they’d think the worst. Did the carriage turn over? You look as if you have been through a hedge backwards.’

Sophie was grateful for Richard’s hand in the middle of her back. He was there, supporting her. They had discussed in the carriage about the best way to tell her stepmother. While Sophie had wanted to tell her on her own, Richard refused to hear of it. They were doing it together or not at all.

‘We are marrying as soon as practicable, Mrs Ravel,’ Richard said in a tone which allowed for no opposition. ‘I will see the Bishop after I leave here. There will be no problem with obtaining a licence.’

‘But the settlement, the party after Robert and Henri arrive, the society wedding. The wedding breakfast.’ Her stepmother started to fan herself. ‘I want it to be special … for Sophie. Everyone is sure to want to be there.’

Sophie’s insides twisted. All of her white lies to placate her stepmother were coming back to haunt her.
But would it have been any better if
she’d known the truth?
a little voice inside her nagged.

‘Sophie! Are you going to answer me?’

‘Sophie and I—’ Richard began, but her stepmother turned towards him, fury contorting her face.

‘Pardon me, Lord Bingfield, but I want to hear my stepdaughter’s answer. It seems from the look of her that she has been up to mischief and I want to know how deep this mischief runs! Sophie, what have you done? Did you go to the cricket match? Or did you go to an inn? Are you breeding?’

‘Mrs Ravel!’ Richard thundered.

Sophie gave Richard’s hand a squeeze. She’d have to play this out. To confess to her stepmother what she had just done and why a marriage was now imperative, particularly as the engagement had been a false one, was impossible. Her stepmother’s hysterics was the last thing she wanted to face.

‘The settlement is more than adequate and stop using Robert’s approval as an excuse.’ Sophie fixed her stepmother with her eye. ‘Richard’s solicitor agreed to all my demands and you know they were designed to protect mine and Father’s fortune. I showed you the letter from the solicitors. Robert and Henri will understand. We don’t
truly know the date they intended to return. Everything else like the wedding breakfast and a large wedding is mere frippery.’

Her stepmother opened her mouth several times, but no sound came out.

‘Even if they did intend to come back in early June, they might be delayed for all sorts of reasons,’ Sophie argued. ‘I don’t see any reason to wait any longer. Sometimes you just know when the time is right. And Richard agrees with me.’

‘But the party? I wanted everything to be special for you. You are to be a society bride. This sudden headlong dash towards marriage sounds like a very hole-in-the-corner affair. People will talk. They will look at your waist and count.’

‘Let them.’ Sophie tilted her chin in the air. ‘I’ve nothing to hide. Let them whisper and titter if they must, but I haven’t done
anything
to be ashamed of.’

Richard’s hand tightened over hers. She was grateful for the touch. She’d been foolish to worry that they weren’t well acquainted. They would be spending the rest of their lives together and Richard appeared to understand her so well.

‘We shall have to have a ball to celebrate the wedding when we return from the wedding trip. Problem solved. Right, Richard?’

‘I feel certain my father would approve of
such a measure, Mrs Ravel,’ Richard said in a smooth voice. ‘We should have two. One in Newcastle and one at Hallington to introduce Sophie to the neighbourhood. After all, she will be the Marchioness of Hallington one day.’

Her stepmother beamed with pleasure and Sophie knew Richard had promised precisely the right thing.

‘And London, let there be a ball in London.’ Her stepmother clapped her hands. ‘It will be the talk of the autumn season.’

Richard squeezed Sophie’s hand tighter. It amazed her that he seemed to instinctively know the prospect of a ball unnerved her. ‘That will be for Sophie to decide. But before any of that happens, Sophie and I will marry. We see no point in waiting. I expect you to attend the wedding.’

Her stepmother’s ribbons trembled. ‘You are eloping?’

‘We will be married by special licence as soon as possible. I intend to see the Bishop of Durham this evening. If he is unwilling, I will travel down to Canterbury tomorrow and get permission from the Archbishop himself. At the very worst we will be married in two days’ time.’