Simmer All Night (27 page)

A chilly night breeze swirled around them, and she smiled and said, "This feels good."

Cole agreed. The hand that tested at the small of her back itched to move around to the fullness of her front. "I needed to cool off."

She moved toward the front of the portico and stood at the stone railing, staring out at the wide gravel drive and expanse of lawn that formed the main approach to Hartsworth. Moonbeams spilled upon the fire in her hair, sighed across milky shoulders left bare by her gown's neckline, and bowed to an enticing silhouette of curves.

The idea of carrying her off looked better all the time.

He settled for stepping up behind her and breathing deeply of her scent. "You smell good, Lady Bug," he murmured against her ear. Then, unable to stop himself, he kissed the soft, sensitive skin of her neck, nipped her gently with his teeth, then licked the spot he'd bitten. His voice was rough and raspy as he said, "You taste even better."

"Stop," she protested weakly. "Someone will see."

He turned her around to face him. "Since when do you mind being kissed in public?"

"Since this afternoon. I understand now how quickly physical matters can get out of hand. I'd just as soon not parade around naked on Hartsworth's front steps."

The picture her words conjured up in Cole's mind had him groaning out loud. He needed to woo her and win her, but at the moment all he could think of was wanting her. "Chrissy, walk with me."

"Where?"

"I don't know. Somewhere dark. Somewhere private."

"You're trying to seduce me."

"I guess I am. I started out wanting to talk, but now it seems the only thing left is the wanting."

"Why?" She ducked away from him. "Is it a plot? Do you have someone standing around ready to discover us? Are you trying to trick me into marrying you?"

Mental frustration combined with his physical frustration and added an edge to his voice. "C'mon, Chrissy. Didn't I promise not to bring up that particular subject?"

"I don't trust you."

Temper flared. "That's a helluva thing to say to the man you're going to marry."

"See!" She pointed an accusing finger his way. "I was right." Whirling away from him, she walked the length of the portico, not stopping until she reached the wing of curved stone steps that descended to the gravel drive.

Cole grimaced and gave his head a shake. What was it with the two of them? One minute they're laughing together, the next they're scrapping like a couple of hungry hounds. Is this what love did to a person? If so, then he'd best get a handle on it right from the start. "No, you're wrong, Bug. You're wrong about just about everything."

He followed her, stopping just an arm's length away from where she stood. "You should trust me. You know why? Because I'm in love with you. I'd cut off my right arm before I'd hurt you. Don't you see that? It doesn't matter what your mother wants or what your brother wants or what your grandfather wants. The only thing that matters is what you and I want. Well, I've figured out my part, honey. I want you. In my life, my house, and my bed. Forever."

His words died away and only silence remained. His pulse pounded and every muscle inside him seemed to clench as he waited for her to speak.

"No," she said finally, her voice sounding wounded and alone. "You don't love me. You're only saying it because of her. Everything you say and do is because of her. Because of my mother."

What?
Shocked, Cole reached for her, but she slapped his hand away. Temper rumbled as he flatly said, "That's about the dumbest thing you've ever said."

She gave her head a toss, then turned her back to him.

His temper escalated from a rumble to a roar. "Dammit, Chrissy, I do, too, love you, and it chaps my behind that you're trying to be stubborn about believing me." He braced his hands on his hips and glared at her. "And you know what else? I'm almost certain you love me, too. Otherwise, you never would have given me your innocence. We would never have gone so far. I love you and you love me, and while I won't say that word I promised not to say, we are damn well going to be together from now on. And that is that."

Silence dragged out like a mile of bad road. Then Christina drew herself up, faced him, and said, "Listen, Morgan. In fact, watch my lips form the words while you're listening. I will not marry you."

"Why, dammit?"

She brushed past him, headed for the ballroom where the musicians played "Texas Star." Halfway there she paused and looked over her shoulder. "Because, Cole, I won't marry a man who offers out of guilt. Because I won't settle for a love that is less than it should be. It was wrong of me to consider marriage with Lord Welby, and I've learned something from my mistake. I deserve more than that. I deserve a husband who will love me for the woman I am. That man is not you. I'm not my mother, Cole. She's the kind of lady you admire. She's the kind of lady you want for a wife. I will not marry a man who thinks more of my mother than he does of me." Then Christina turned her back on him and disappeared inside Hartsworth.

Mouthing a vicious curse, Cole kicked at a loose rock, sending it flying down the steps. It clattered down and down and down until it thwacked against the ground. When the noise finally stopped, a disgusted voice rang out from the shadows beside the doorway.

"Well, my boy," said the Earl of Thornbury. "You certainly bungled that, now, didn't you?"

Cole rounded on the man. "I swear that woman cut her teeth on stubborn. Did you hear all that?"

"I heard enough."

"I told her I loved her. Did you hear that part? I told her I loved her, and she dismissed it out of hand. Woman has more nerve than a toothache. Why, I've had women all but get on their knees and beg me to say those three little words. Never have said it before. Never once."

"You might have been better off had you practiced a time or two before tonight. Your delivery was pitifully poor."

"I don't lie, Thornbury. She knows that."

"Right," said Christina from the doorway. "So all those times you and Jake cut school to go fishing and you sat at the supper table that night and told my father about that day's arithmetic lesson you were telling the truth."

He threw her a blazing look. "I thought you'd left."

"I did. I came back." Christina addressed the earl. "Grandfather, it's almost time for supper to be served, and I believe this is when you intended to formally announce my betrothal to Viscount Welby."

"Now, girl." The old man frowned and pulled on his beard. "I told you I wouldn't make that announcement."

"I'm not asking you to. The situation has changed."

"Darn right it has," Cole interjected.

She shot him a withering glare before continuing, "Grandfather, Lord Welby is to marry my friend, Lana Kleberg."

"What?"

"Yes, it's true." Christina smiled. "We'd like you to announce the happy news tonight."

Cole folded his arms and piped up. "Yes, Thornbury, go ahead and tell your guests about Welby and the widow. But at the same time, you'll need to proclaim your granddaughter's upcoming wedding to me."

"No, he won't," Christina snapped.

"Yes, he will," Cole shot back.

"I won't marry you."

"You damn sure will."

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

"Yes!"

"Enough!" shouted the earl. "Enough of this bickering. Young Michael and little Sophie act more mature than the pair of you. I am appalled."

Cole faced the earl. "I apologize, sir. However, I must insist you announce my engagement to your granddaughter."

"And I insist you announce Lana's engagement to Lord Welby. Don't attempt to publicly shackle me to this lying snake. I won't hesitate to embarrass us all."

"Now
that
I
do
believe," Cole said. "But you made a mistake warning me, Lady Bug. I won't let it happen."

"You have no choice. I'm the one with the choice, and I say I will not marry you."

"Muleheaded. That's what you are, Chrissy Delaney."

"Well, you're just a big old bully. Just because you're stronger than me doesn't give you the right—"

"That's it," announced the earl. "I've had enough. The two of you are making my head spin, and I am too old for that. I shall take care of this problem here and now."

Thornbury muttered beneath his breath as he walked inside the Great Hall and waved his hands at the caller, signaling the musicians to stop. As the music faded away, the Earl of Thornbury withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his brow. "Ladies and gentlemen," he called.

"Grandfather." Chrissy rushed up in front of him and pleased softly. "Please."

"Do it," demanded Cole.

"Don't," begged Chrissy. "I can't."

"She must."

"Say Welby and Lana."

"Me and your stubborn granddaughter."

Thornbury's gaze stumbled back and forth between the two. He grimaced, looked a little panicked, then proclaimed, "I, Edward Stanton, Earl of Thornbury, do hereby formally announce the betrothal of Bruce Harrington, Viscount Welby, to Mr. Cole Morgan of Texas."

Chapter 11

The halls of Hartsworth bustled with guests' leave-taking activities as Chrissy made her way downstairs the following morning. The song on her lips and skip to her step were residuals of the mood she'd carried with her to bed last night. She couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed so much.

When the earl made his mixed up announcement, her gaze, like everyone else's in the Great Hall, had turned to Cole and Welby. The horrified shock on both men's faces had started her giggling. When they descended on the earl, full of protest and arm-waving indignation, her giggle had grown to a chortle. Then, as Michael and Sophie joined the jumble, tugging on the earl's coat and beating on Lord Welby's legs, she'd broken out into full laughter.

The shocked and silent guests had looked at her as if she'd lost her mind.

So had her grandfather, Welby, and Cole. In fact, her behavior had given them a bit of a scare and recognizing that, she had pressed her advantage. The Earl of Thornbury ended up announcing Lord Welby's engagement to Lana Kleberg. He'd said not one word about Chrissy's state of affairs.

Cole had stormed out of the hall in disgust. Chrissy had wanted to do a victory dance. Instead she went in to supper and maneuvered a seat next to Lord Bennet.

It was a relief to have something other than Cole and his marriage demands to think about. In the wake of her recent personal upheaval, Chrissy had neglected the search for the lost Declaration of Independence. Before the soup course ended, she decided to concentrate on that bit of business for the moment, and give all her other concerns—Cole and his love-making and his marriage demands, her mother and her interference—time to settle in her head. She had run on emotion all day. It was time to use a little logic for a change.

Midway between the fish and the fowl, she successfully wangled an invitation to Lord Bennet's Harpur Priory to see his Lone Star treasures. She'd gone to bed with a smile on her face and had slept through the night.

Awaking to a sun-kissed morning and feeling refreshed, Chrissy dressed and went downstairs to the drawing room where she bid guest after guest goodbye. Cole remained conspicuously absent, and she told herself she didn't care where he'd gotten off to. She'd almost convinced herself.

By noon, most of the house party guests had departed and Chrissy abandoned her post in the drawing room and made her way to the state anteroom off the saloon where she found Lord Bennet overseeing the packing up of the Western decorations he'd loaned the earl for last night's Texas-theme ball.

The baron stood surrounded by wooden crates spread carelessly across the Devonshire carpet woven in hues of pale pink and blue. "Careful now," he directed a footman. "Use plenty of straw. If anything breaks I'll have your head." Then, upon spying Chrissy, he smiled widely. "Good morning, Miss Delaney. I trust you passed a pleasant night after all the excitement of the ball?"

"Pleasant enough, thank you." She approached him saying, "Oh, what a fine collection of spurs. I didn't see these last night."

Delight sparked his eyes. "Please, please, allow me to show them to you." He launched into a lesson on spurs, showing her gads, gut hooks, and hell-rousers, and pointing out the differences between them and cheaper spurs called tin bellies. "This is only a sampling, of course. I have more at home. I so look forward to your visit, Miss Delaney. I have many, many things to show you."

"I'm sure you do." Chrissy trailed a finger along the contours of a Western saddle. "I can't tell you how much I am looking forward to our trip to Harpur Priory. Last evening's festivities left me feeling homesick, I'm afraid. I look forward to talking with you at length about Texas, Lord Bennet."

"I feel the same."

Chrissy watched as the servants continued to pack up files, boxes, and crates. She oohed over some of the items, aahed over others, and waited for what she judged to be the right moment to ask, "This is all so impressive. Tell me, Lord Bennet, are there many other Englishmen of your acquaintance who share your passion for my home state?"