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"How indeed." Essie giggled, breaking the
contact, but only for a moment before she returned his kiss.

"Marry me?" Cross whispered the words against
her wet lips, plump and swollen from his ardent kiss.

Essie opened her eyes to meet his gaze,
bathing in the glory of his words. Of their intentions… of the
promise they held.

"Yes," she whispered back. She delighted in
the victorious ferocity that lit his eyes—that she tasted as he
ravaged her mouth once more.

This time, however, she
did
hear the
knock, and tried to untangle herself from Cross' grip, he simply
held her tighter, grinning wildly.

Lady Crossby walked in, her steps halting as
a confused expression scrunched up her face.

Essie had known Lady Crossby most of her
life, and to be caught in such a compromising position before a
mother figure… was uncomfortable.

Apparently Cross didn't feel the same lack of
comfort, rather he held her tighter, caressing her back softly,
reassuringly?

"Cross! Release Essie this moment!" She
scolded as she appeared to gain her wits and strode towards
them.

"Forgive me, I was simply carried away with
the moment… seeming as I just gained a fiancée."

"Fiancée?" Lady Crossby's gaze darted between
them, her eye wide. "Fiancée!" She clapped excitedly! "When Anna
said I needed to check in the library I had no idea that I would be
walking into such wondrous news!" She rushed forward and pulled
Essie and Cross into an awkward hug.

Cross refused to release her, rather used the
hug as an excuse to lower his hand on her waist and pat her
bum.

She glared at him.

He returned her glare with a wide grin,
mischievous and light.

As if all was right in his world.

She recognized the expression because she
felt the same way.

Then she remembered Lady Crossby's words.
"Anna sent you here?" She leaned back and regarded Lady Crossby's
confused expression.

"Why, yes. I assumed it was because she knew
of your engagement."

"Of course!" Cross answered, casting a
knowing glace to Essie.

Because Anna, mischievous hoyden that she
was, had sent Lady Crossby into the library in hopes of her
discovering Essie and Cross in a compromising position.

And she almost had!

Essie shook her head, making both a mental
note to throttle and then thank her friend.

"Anna always was a keen one," Cross replied
to his mother. His mouth pulled tightly as if trying to suppress a
wide grin.

"Yes, well I'll simply pass along the
wonderful news to your father. I assume your parents haven't heard
the delightful news yet, dear?" She asked Essie.

"No, it's quite… recent." She smiled secretly
at Cross.

"In
my
opinion, it's quite overdue,"
Lady Crossby responded, twisting her lips in a wry manner. "After
all, you two were the only ones who didn't see it."

"Pardon?" Essie asked, her brow pinching.

"Your parents and my husband and I have often
spoken and wondered when the two of you would realize just what a
profitable match this would be! And then you were betrothed to
Trighton. I didn't like the fellow much mind you, but it wasn't
my
place to say anything. You're better off without him…
something strange about him anyway." She shivered delicately. "I'm
simply quite pleased in how things turned out." She nodded
emphatically.

"All we need to do is get your sister married
off now!" Lady Crossby replied as she patted Essie's shoulder and
turned to leave.

Cross wasted no time, but took full advantage
of his mother's turned back to place a quick kiss to Essie's
lips.

"Oh!" Lady Crossby turned as she reached the
door. "Essie, darling, you'll want to… tidy yourself up a bit
before you return home. Though you're engaged, we don't want people
to think you
had
to marry, if you get my meaning." She
raised a dark eyebrow and left.

Closing the door.

What was it with this family? It was as if
they wanted her ruined!

Not that her interlude with Cross had been
anything but; however, that was private. Or so she had though till
Lady Crossby referenced her appearance.

"Don't worry about Mother." Cross spoke
lightly, smiling at her.

"I wasn't, I was worried more about my
appearance and the impression it gives," Essie replied wryly.

"You've never looked lovelier."

"You better say that, you're the cause of
it!" She teased, pushing his shoulder slightly.

"I'll try to be more cautious next time." He
glanced at her hair.

"See that you do." She blushed.

"However…" Cross' eyes twinkled with mischief
as he reached up and deftly began pulling out her pins.

"What are you doing?" Essie placed her hands
over his, trying to stop him.

"Since there is utterly no hope of redemption
for your current coiffure…" Cross swatted her hands away and began
to pull out her pins. "Waste not, want not." He pulled out her
final pin and allowed it to clink to the ground.

"But everyone knows we're here! They could
walk in at any moment!" Essie cried in a whisper, but without heat
as Cross lowered his head to kiss the hollow of her throat.

"My mother closed the door. Believe me, she
will not return." He teased her flesh with his tongue. "Because she
knows I'll be honorable… but only as much as
absolutely
necessary." He captured her mouth in a hungry kiss as his hands,
somehow now bare from his gloves, wove through her hair and drew
her into the haze of desire once more.

It was some time later, and after Anna's maid
had been enlisted in repairing her hair, that she found herself
finally leaving the Crossby residence, glowing with the knowledge
that she was loved.

She took the hand of her footman as she
entered the carriage, glancing at his face and absently wondering
when they had hired a new one. Shrugging, she settled into the
carriage. Lost in her own thoughts as it pulled her across the
cobbled streets of London, she relished the knowledge that she'd
see Cross in only a short time, as he presented his suit to her
father.

The carriage stopped
suddenly. She glanced out the window, confused. Her door swung open
and she startled, as a man dressed in black entered. Essie gasped
as she reached for the door, but he was too quick. He pushed her
back into the bench, rapped on the roof twice, sending the carriage
into sharp movement. The man lost his balance momentarily, and in
doing such, the dark hat he wore slipped and exposed his face and
light colored hair.

She felt her eyes widen in shock as she
stared into the face of Jefferson Markfield, Lord Trighton.

"You?" Essie questioned, her heart pounding
with fear and confusion.

"Shut up," he growled as he grabbed his hat
and sat down. "You'll do as I say, understood? You little whore!"
He spoke with a hysterical edge to his tone, his eyes wide and
wild.

Essie swallowed her fear, trying to simply
think.

"You… you told her."

"Told who? What are you speaking of?" Essie
tried to distract him as she scanned the carriage for anything she
could use as weapon.

"Miss Montray. You told her!"

"Told her what?" Essie asked, trying to keep
calm.

"We have nothing! Nothing! She was eating out
of my hand, I had her! And you ruined it! And now… now." He leaned
forward slightly. "You're going to pay."

Cross couldn't wait.
Not
with the elation he felt, with the utter joy that came
from the knowledge that Essie was his,
his
betrothed.

With every kiss, every touch, it was beyond
tormenting, having everything he had desperately wanted be so
close… though not his. At least not yet.

He was overjoyed to realize that her passion
matched his own, that where her kiss was inexperienced, she made up
for it with enthusiasm. And if her
kiss
were that… zealous,
heaven help him when they could enjoy all that lay
beyond
kissing!

He was painfully aware of the temptation to
experiment with that very idea before the wedding. Which was
exactly why he was going to attain a special license.

As soon as Essie left, he saddled his horse
and followed her carriage down the side street onto the main
thoroughfare towards the office of the Archbishop of Canterbury at
Doctor's Common in London, to attain his license. However, rather
than turning toward Grosvenor Street, Essie's carriage continued to
go straight.

Electing to follow, he missed his own turn
off. His confusion grew as a hired hack began to trail Essie's
carriage as well. Just as he urged his mount to catch up with them,
a nearby carriage lost a wheel, sending the carriage into his lane,
the horse pulling it, wild, and the driver trying desperately to
right it. Cross' mount deftly side stepped, moving around the
issue, but in the time it had taken him to clear the confusion, he
saw a dark figure enter Essie's carriage.

His heart stopped beating. His lungs ceased
needing air as he watched, too far away to stop the nightmare from
taking place before his eyes. With a primal growl, his heart
continued its beat and his lungs drew in air as he saw red, an
infuriating angry shade of it, coloring his world and eliminating
all details but the carriage holding the woman he loved.

He urged his mount into a gallop as he
pursued the now moving carriage. It only took a moment for him to
catch up. Systematically, he evaluated the situation. Two men; a
driver and a gentleman inside the carriage.

He needed control of the carriage, so,
pulling hat down to hide his face, he pulled in front of the
carriage, trying to appear as if struggling with his horse.

"Pardon! My horse, a little spooked." he
called out, continuing to maneuver till Essie's carriage came to a
complete stop.

"What'er ye doin'? Learn ta' manage yer
horse!" The coachman called out, in a distinctive Cockney accent.
Most assuredly,
not
Essie's driver.

Cross dismounted and strode towards the
unfamiliar man.

"What—" Cross reached up and pulled the
stranger down on the left side of the carriage. Not giving the man
an opportunity to cry for help, he gave him a right hook across the
face, sending him unconscious into the filthy London gutter.

One down, one to go.

"What's the meaning of this?" A man's voice
asked from the other side of the carriage. Cross bent, hiding
behind the opposing side; looking under he watched, seeing only a
pair of boots as the man disembarked from the carriage. He waited
until the man walked toward the front of the carriage and then he
stood. Through the window of the carriage, he saw Essie, her face
tear streaked. When she saw him, her expression transformed into
one of hope but quickly shifted to fear as she pointed to the front
of the carriage.

Cross gave her a quick reassuring nod and
walked around the back of the carriage. Glancing around the edge,
he saw the man in black with his back towards him. Cross rushed
forward, tackling the man to the ground. The man rolled over,
ducking out of Cross' grip and was nearly trampled by a pair of
bays pulling a barouche. Pushing himself upright, recognition
slammed into him as the familiar face of Trighton stared at him
with hatred. Trighton lurched to his feet, the roared as he charged
Cross.

"Blackguard!" Cross called out, meeting his
charge and hitting the side of Trighton's face with a roundhouse.
Stumbling back, Trighton wiped the blood from his lip while a
deranged smile tilted his quickly swelling lips. "That whore ruined
everything!" He came at Cross, swinging wildly. Cross ducked and
landed a blow to Trighton's mid-section.

Trighton gasped and staggered back. Cross
circled him, careful to remain out of the path of upcoming
carriages. He noticed that several people had stopped to stare and
watch.

"How dare you call her that." Cross spoke
darkly, his teeth clenched as he landed a solid blow against
Trighton's ear, knocking him to his knees.

"No one wants me! And it's all her fault! She
cried off!" Trighton screeched, his hand at his ear. He scurried to
his feet and charged Cross.

Cross simply side stepped, then kicked
Trighton's back, sending him sailing against the cobbles. "You
asked her too, you filthy bastard."

"I
had
to! It was the only way! We
have nothing. Nothing!" Trighton swore as he rose once more, blood
dripping from his mouth and nose.

It was all madness, Trighton was senseless as
he spat blood and shifted his gaze wildly.

"And you have less now," Cross muttered as he
saw two constables make their way towards them. He gestured to
Trighton and the officers nodded. After a short struggle, Trighton
was subdued and dragged away, swearing as he left a bloody trail.
The officers arrested the driver, who was just now coming about
from the lethal blow dealt him by Cross. With nothing else to see,
the crowd dispersed.

Cross breathed in deeply through his nose,
calming his heart and the intense desire to finish off Trighton. He
jumped slightly when he felt a soft hand at his shoulder.

"Cross?" Essie's worried tone pulled him from
his anger.

He turned and pulled her into a tight
embrace. Closing his eyes, he inhaled the sweet scent of her, the
rose water that clung to her skin. "Are you injured? Harmed in any
way?" He gently pulled her shoulders from his embrace as his gaze
raked her body, searching for any sign of maltreatment.

"No, no. I'm quite well, now at least." Essie
offered him a brave smile but it didn't reach her eyes, they were
still haunted and afraid.

Reaching up, Cross began to touch her face
before retreating, noticing his filthy gloves. He savagely took off
the offending garments and tossed them to the street. Trailing her
jaw with his fingers, he traveled his caress down till he rested on
her shoulders. Leaning forward, he rested his forehead on hers,
breathing deeply, reminding himself over and over that it was
finished; that Essie was safe.