The Dangerous Love of a Rogue (17 page)

“And I you, but we shall see you in two days.”

She nodded.

His hand gripped hers tightly as she climbed up into the carriage.

When she sat, her hands settled over her reticule in her lap. Shaking. The metal lock securing the door clicked shut.

As she held her father’s gaze through the window her heart jolted into a rapid rhythm.

This was it.

No going back.

She lifted her hand and waved as her carriage lurched into motion, the first to leave, leaving them behind.

Her father lifted his hand. Her mother and her elder sisters waved. Kate and John were looking the wrong way, but at the last moment John turned and lifted his hand. Then they were all out of sight, unless she leaned forward to look back. She did not.

Her heart pounded and tears spilled from her eyes as a sob left her throat.

This was too hard.

She wiped her eyes with her father’s handkerchief, and then curled her fingers about it.

The horses pace picked up to a trot and the carriage turned into a side street. She could hear the strike, strike pattern of their stride.

Her heart thundered as the distance between herself and her family grew.

When the carriage finally drew to a halt in St James, she looked from the window but she could not see Drew. The vehicle rocked as the driver climbed down, and her heart raced anew. Clutching at her dress she prepared to get out as the driver came to the door to set down the carriage step.

What if Drew was not here? But when the door opened she saw him move forward, smiling broadly.

Her stomach flipped, warmth flooding from her heart. She smiled reaching a hand out to him, but he did not take it, instead he gripped her waist, and lifted her from the step.

Once she was on the ground he gave her a hearty kiss.

Her nervousness erupted as a laugh when he pulled away.

It was done. The tears in her eyes became tears of joy. They would be married.

His hazel eyes danced with shifting colours of emotion as he gripped her hand, then he lifted it. His fingers had closed about the hand which bore her father’s handkerchief. “You have been crying?”

“I’m sorry. I love my family, Drew. I will miss them…”

This was not the jubilation he’d pictured. Drew wished her joyful. But the girl was attached to her family, he knew it. The ability to love was one of the qualities he’d picked her for, so he could hardly chastise her for it. Yet it clawed into his skin, that she may love her family more than him. He wished to always be higher in her regard than her family. He could not bear to be second best to her, when she would be everything to him.

He took the handkerchief from her fingers. “You’ll not need this now.”

He saw uncertainty suddenly restrain her smile.

“We’re taking my phaeton.” He looked from her to the driver, and handed the man the other half of his payment.

The driver had left her bag on the pavement. Drew picked it up. This was it.

He looked back at Mary. Her lower lip had caught between her teeth.

Damn
… He hoped she was not having second thoughts. “This is your chance to speak up if you have changed your mind?” Why the hell had he asked her that? He did not wish her to withdraw, it would rip him apart if she did. But perhaps it was better he had, at least then he’d know the truth and not forever wonder.

Her pale blue eyes shone, beautiful, even in the shadow of the narrow brim of her straw bonnet.

The bonnet had a large lavender bow tied at one side of her chin and her light spencer matched the shade of the ribbon, while her dress was a muslin three shades lighter.

She made his heart ache.

Her lip slipped from between her teeth and she smiled. “I have not changed my mind. I want to be your wife.”

His free hand cupped her jaw. “Good, because, I want you for my wife.”

She lifted to her toes and pressed a kiss on his lips. It was placation. It annoyed him, that she’d seen his weakness. He did not like it. He did not wish her to know he was a weak scarred man within. But no matter, as long as she did not change her mind.

He gripped her hand and led her to his phaeton, nodding at the groom who held the horses’ heads. The man was from the mews where Drew stabled his horses.

Drew handed her up. The tall racing curricle was not designed with a lady’s ascent in mind, and he saw a flash of a narrow stocking clad ankle as she climbed the steps. He would soon see it in the flesh.

When she sat, he looked up, a surge of need, to protect her, rushing in his blood. She had become his responsibility.

His heart thumped as he walked about the carriage.

He set her bag under the seat, then climbed up.

She held the carriage’s frame with one hand and the other gripped her reticule.

Drew picked up the reins and the groom let the horses go on Drew’s nod.

Drew flicked the reins.

He’d told the stables he’d be gone a couple of days and he’d borrowed money from Peter for the journey. He planned to take the main routes and ensure they were noticed at the toll gates, so Marlow could find them.

A smile pulled at his lips, he had her, and soon he’d no longer need to fear the duns taking his horses.

Mary didn’t speak.

He didn’t either. He had no idea what to say to her.

He concentrated on driving.

The sounds of tack, hoof beats and the roll of steel-rimmed wheels absorbed his thoughts. He’d lived in London for so long, and before that in cities abroad, these sounds were like a mother’s heartbeat to an infant in the womb.

When they reached the outskirts, the traffic thinned, then they progressed into open countryside and the world expanded to distant horizons.

The only sound now was that of his carriage and horses, as they rocked and rolled along the track, the carriage springs creaking and the horses’ hooves thudding on the dry mud track.

Drew raised the horses pace to a canter with a flick of the reins. He felt good.

“Do you like the countryside?” Mary asked, making drawing room conversation.

“I was a boy once, boys love trees to climb and rivers to swim or fish in. I loved the countryside then, but now I am a town gentleman I’m afraid. I cannot even recall the last time I left town.”

“My parents have taken my brothers and sisters to Pembroke Place to enjoy the park. It’s John’s estate. It’s not far from London. The children get so bored in town. I like London when we are here, I enjoy the season, but I prefer to be at home. My father’s estate is in Berkshire. It’s peaceful there.”

He’d looked at the road as she spoke, yet he didn’t need to see her face to know she was wistful and thinking of the things she’d left behind.

He felt awkward with her now. Clumsy. He could not speak of families. He could not imagine the things she was thinking. He didn’t say anything.

“Where is your family’s home?”

He glanced at her, a bitter smile catching his lips. He did not wish to speak of his family, but he answered none the less. “Shropshire, just south of Shrewsbury.”

He looked back at the road.

“And your parents are there?”

He did not look at her this time. “Yes, they are there. My eldest brother lives with them. I do not visit.”

“You don’t?”

“No darling, so do not expect to go there. It was a lifetime ago that I promised myself I would never go back and said to hell with them.”

Silence.

He glanced at her. She was looking at him. “Believe me, you do not wish to know them.”

He faced the road again, avoiding the questions in her eyes. Of course she would not understand a family like his, any more than he understood her past.

“Do your parents always bring the whole family to town?” He only spoke to crack the ice that had formed over their conversation.

“Yes, always. They cannot abide leaving any of us behind. We used to stay at Uncle Robert’s and that was bedlam because he has a large family too. We would all run riot all season. But since grandfather died and the title passed to John we stay with John.”

“Is he happy about that?” He glanced at her again, genuinely surprised Pembroke took the children in. Drew could not imagine Pembroke abiding noisy children, he was so stiff-upper-lipped.

She smiled, but not at him, she was thinking about her brother. “When he came home from Egypt, I think he was a little irritated by us all. But now he has Paul he plays as rough with the boys as Papa does, they are always play fighting.”

Drew could not imagine it, not of Pembroke, or even her father for that matter. He’d never known a man play with children. When he and his brothers had fought, it had been for real and there had been bloody noses, black eyes, and bruised knuckles. The outcome had been a beating with a cane and several days’ isolation in a locked room with bread and water for his pains.

Out of sight and out of mind had been his parents’ policy for rearing their unwanted brats.

“My aunts and uncles bring their families to town too, and my cousins who are married are now beginning their families and bringing their young ones with them also. We are like a hoard when we gather at Pembroke Place, which is at some point in the summer and often over Christmas.”

He looked at her again, for longer this time. He supposed she’d want him to take her there. He could let her go alone. That was if her family would still invite her. They may well simply turn their backs.

A sharp pain pierced his chest, like someone had stabbed him with a blade. She would be devastated if her family chose to cut her completely. He’d not really thought of this from her view.

“You know your family are not going to like this.”

Her blue gaze shimmered with unshed tears and she nodded.

“It may mean—”

“I know they may not speak to me again, but I think they love me enough not to cut me.” It was said with hope.

A smile pulled Drew’s lips apart, and the same sensation of pride and joy cut across his heart. He wished to be first in her affections, and did that not say he was. She had taken the risk of leaving her family for him. But… “This is a gamble for you then,”
and… Lord…
“What if you are wrong? Can you bear it?” He drew the horses to a halt suddenly. He wished her to be sure of this. Why the hell did he keep giving her the chance to back out?

Because he did not wish to be hurt by her rejection if it came later, if her family turned her away, and then she turned against him… He needed to be sure that she was sure; that whatever they were building together would be on a firm foundation, one that could withstand the battle he knew would come soon.

He could not bear to give his heart to her completely and then be rejected.

Twisting about in the seat, to face him, her pale blue eyes looked intently into his as both her hands gripped her reticule. “Are you asking if I am sure again? Do you think I made this decision on a whim?”

He had; he’d thought it the outcome of their physical encounter. He did not anymore.

She constantly showed him new depths to her character.

“I will not change my mind, Drew. I will miss my family. I will be hurt if they cut me. I hope they do not. But we will have each other, and build our own family. God willing. I have made my choice.”

Lord, what a speech. Drew turned to the road and flicked the reins.

She had chosen him, he should be smiling again, whooping with joy, yet suddenly the weight of such a notion settled on his shoulders. She did not know who he really was, inside. Who she had chosen. He did. A worthless barren soul – a man whose heart had been kicked so hard, so many times, he was unsure it knew how to function. He had no clue how to build a family. He’d no idea how to be a husband or a father. But he did wish to make her happy – to make her constant, and be constant – and he did care for her. He knew that.

Perhaps the country estate he intended to buy would be enough to make her happy. She had said she loved the country, she could make a home there, with any children they had, and perhaps the children would make her happy; even if the man she lived with ended up to be an inept husband.

She slid across the carriage seat and rested a hand on his thigh. The sensation did odd things to his stomach, but he did not look her way as he urged the horses into a faster motion.

After a moment her cheek rested on his shoulder, and her fingers gripped his upper arm.

Had she sensed his turmoil and offered comfort. He hoped she had not, he did not want her to know who he really was. She would definitely hate that weak, rejected man.

Then she kissed his cheek, and it jolted the world’s axis.

God, he treasured this woman. He utterly adored her. Who else could look beyond all his faults and say they loved him regardless, and would commit themselves to him and leave a perfectly good life behind. Tomorrow, or perhaps the next day, or the one after that, but surely by then, she would be his wife.

His grip on the reins had become over tight. He loosened it.
I love you
. The words slipped through his thoughts as her head lay against his shoulder and the pressure of her slender fingers clutched about his arm.

Did he?
Am I capable of it then
?

Devil take it. But if this was love, it felt good, it felt right. Now she had come closer all his fears slid away.

He wanted her to be proud of him, as proud as she’d sounded when she spoke of her family. Lord he felt as though he must compete with them for her affections.

He sighed. In a few days she would be his wife, though, and then she would definitely be his, not theirs. But tonight she’d be his partner in the flesh.

They rode on in silence, she with her fingers about his arm, and her head against his shoulder.

He would make this night special. This would be their wedding for him.

Good God
.
Since when did I become a sentimental man?

Why the hell do I feel in bits over this woman?
He could not think straight with her next to him. No woman had sat like this with him.

Movement in a solitary tree at the edge of the road grasped his attention. A large buzzard landed on a branch and its sharp eyes surveyed the field beyond, searching for carrion. Its predatory nature visible.