The Dangerous Love of a Rogue (50 page)

“Of course.”

Andrew stopped and took a breath.

Mary looked up at him from a step below, her hand gripping his evening coat. “Andrew?”

He took another breath, and then with a non-roguish smile he gripped her hand and pressed it against his chest. “You asked for my honesty, for me to show you how I feel. This is how I feel right now.” His heart rate pulsed swiftly beneath her hand.

She smiled reassurance. “If you are nice to them, they shall be nice to you…”

“And your father?”

“Only wishes to know you make me happy, and care for me.”

He let her hand go, sighing, his expression changing. “I would prefer to speak with your father before we go into the drawing room. If I wait in the library would you fetch him?”

“Why?”

His curved finger brushed her cheek. “Because I need to put things straight, sweetheart.”

* * *

Drew waited alone in Pembroke’s opulent library for ten excruciating minutes. His hands were actually shaking. He gripped them behind his back. He had never been strong on admitting his faults. Admitting faults, gave others a point to attack.

He stared up at a portrait of Pembroke’s duchess, her hair was half up and half down, and her shoulder turned to the room, showing the side of her that did not bear the look of a duchess – just a woman.

The door handle turned. Drew’s heart pounded.

Damn.

“Mary said you wish to speak with me in private, Framlington?” Marlow did not look pleased about it. “You do realize you are keeping us all away from the dinner table.”

Drew sucked in a deep breath. Humble pie had a bitter taste. “Lord Marlow, I wish to ask you for Mary’s hand in marriage.”

The man looked at him askance. “It is a little late, don’t you think.”

Drew sighed. “Yes, Sir, I know, but I did not ask, and now I wish to rectify the matter.”

Marlow’s arms folded over his chest. “What folly, what game, is this, Framlington?”

“No folly, no game, sir. I love your daughter. I have done so from the commencement of my courtship. I know my only means comes from Mary, but I shall look after her, love her and cherish her. You should know it. I understand why you do not approve of me, but I will make her happy.”

“You did not do so in London, you made my daughter miserable.” Marlow’s dark gaze bored into Drew, cold and assessing.

Drew swallowed back his pride. “I felt humiliated before her, by my family. I did not think she would want a man like me—”

“But she does, it would seem.”

“Yes, sir, Mary does, and I thank God for it…”

“You ought to trouble yourself less over your birth, Framlington. I do not judge you by it, and nor will anyone else here. We judge by actions. Actions speak far louder than words. Your actions towards your sister speak of what is underneath your anger…”

Marlow turned away and walked to where a tray of decanters stood on Pembroke’s desk.

“Sir?”

Marlow turned back, a glass in his hand. “Would you like a drink?”

Drew needed to keep his head clear to survive this evening. “No, thank you.”

“You have not treated my daughter well to date. But Mary has told me you’ve sworn to hold your temper and not segregate yourself with antagonistic outbursts. This conversation implies you mean what you’ve said.”

“You must understand my family’s circumstances—”

“I know it. Mary has told me everything.”

Drew fell silent. Unsure what to say.

Marlow, drank the brandy and set the glass down. Then walked forward. “The slate is wiped clean. I will judge you on today and tomorrow and onwards.”

Drew swallowed as Marlow approached. No one had ever spoken to him like this. Given him a chance to merely be who he was.

Marlow gripped Drew’s shoulder. “You have my consent. Or rather you have my endorsement.”

Drew’s heart thumped harder, as Marlow’s hand fell. Then he held it out.

Drew shook it.

“Do not let me down, son.”

Son?
Emotion tangled up in Drew’s chest, an odd pain – longing.

He shook his head. “Lord Marlow—”

“Edward, at least, or father if you wish, as you have none of your own. Now may we eat? I am hungry.”

“Thank you,” Drew said as Marlow turned away.

Lord Marlow looked back, smiling slightly. “You are welcome. Now do you see how things could have been, if you had done them right.”

Drew took a breath, uncertainty and shock rattling inside him. He was on unsteady ground. “I am sorry I did not.”

Marlow’s smile twisted, wryly. “Well, Mary has forgiven you. So I shall forgive you. I am man enough for that. But remember it is on a provision, no more foolishness.”

Lord in heaven. A tight pain gripped in Drew’s chest. This is what he had longed for, to be a part of a family like hers, only he had never thought it would come like this, he had thought he needed to keep Mary to himself and make his own family.

Marlow walked ahead of him as they left the room.

Mary stood in the hall outside.

She crossed the distance to his side, only glancing at her father and clasped Drew’s arm above the elbow, with both hands. He remembered her doing the same when they’d run away, as he’d driven the curricle.

The pain in his chest was cupid’s arrow. It flew through his heart.

Mary talked to her father, taking the attention from Drew.

Bless her
. She understood his confusion,
she always understood
.

But he still had her whole family to face…

Mary’s grip slid from Andrew’s arm to his hand as he held back, letting her father enter the drawing room first.

Andrew was nervous and tense, but she knew her father had given him his blessing, he had told her he would, and he had walked out from the library smiling.

The conversation in the drawing room fell silent.

Oh she wished she had thought to come in here and tell them all not to make a fuss. They began applauding.

Andrew tensed even more, when the applause ceased and her uncles approached. “I admire your courage, Framlington.”

She let go of his arm as his hand was shaken. But she stayed close, knowing he needed her – he was so confident on the exterior and so unsure at the heart

“I am proud to know you.”

“Well done, Framlington.”

Andrew accepted their comments with nods and dismissive gestures, as he was told not to bother with titles and pomp.

His hand searched for hers.

She took it, and he gripped hers hard, as her uncles moved away and then her cousins came close. To have their say.

She remembered the feel of his heartbeat as they had stood on the stairs. The grip of his hand and the hesitancy in his responses said he was bewildered by this.

Her brother Robbie came forward, holding out his hand, with the eagerness of an adolescent. “Lord Framlington, I am pleased to meet you. I should imagine life was pretty grim in a prison cell?”

“Robbie…” Mary chided.

“It was extremely miserable, it is not a place I would like to be again.”

“My brother, Harry, and I, are infamous at college. Everyone wishes to know us because our sister ran away with a scoundrel.”

“Robbie!”

“The lad is not offending me, Mary…” Andrew’s fingers squeezed hers. “I am glad to have brought you notoriety. Where is your brother?”

“With the children.” Robbie laughed, glancing at Mary. “He was in trouble at college for a prank so Papa would not let him come down.”

Mary rolled her eyes. “Typical Harry.”

Andrew’s fingers squeezed hers. “Where is Caro?”

“Over there. You may quiz Andrew later, Robbie.”

Robbie grinned. “I will speak with you later, Lord Framlington.”

Andrew’s smile looked uncomfortable and a little forced. “Thank you.”

Robbie turned to Mary and smiled. “Congratulations, Mary.”

“Thank you, Robbie.” She kissed his cheek.

But then she turned away. “Come on, I’ll take you over to Caroline.”

As they crossed the room her aunts and cousins continually stopped them and greeted Andrew.

Andrew’s jaw stiffened as they were stopped for the tenth time. It was becoming too much.

Caroline was sitting in the farthest corner, with Mary’s mother, quiet and doing her utmost to be lost among the crowd, although everyone had tried to include her, she did not wish to be included.

Caroline looked up as they neared. She had only come down to see Andrew.

Neither of them were comfortable here.

When he reached Caroline, Andrew let go of Mary, sank down onto his haunches, and gripped Caroline’s hands. “How are you, Caro?”

She leant forward and hugged him, and Mary heard her whispering to his ear, but not what she said.

Mary had always been close to Robbie, there was only eighteen months between them, but the closeness between Andrew and Caroline ran deeper. It was born of mutual suffering.

Tears streamed from Caroline’s eyes as Drew whispered back to her.

Something touched Mary’s arm. She glanced back. Her father held out his handkerchief.

She took it. Then tapped Andrew’s shoulder. He looked up. Mary offered the handkerchief to Caroline.

“Thank you.” Caroline smiled, glancing at Mary’s father for only an instant.

“All will be well, now,” Andrew said, his hand patting Caroline’s arm.

Then he stood and looked at her father. “I thought you were hungry, are we not going to eat?”

Her father laughed then turned away lifting a hand to signal to John. Within moments the gong rang to call them through to dine.

Andrew threw an apologetic smile at Mary, then lifted his arm for Caroline to take.

Mary’s father offered his to Mary, and when Andrew walked on ahead, he said quietly, “I like him, now, I think. But he is still on trial.”

“He thinks this his sentence,” she whispered.

“I can see it is difficult for them both, but they will become used to it, to us. We will give them time to adjust. Had he been honest in the beginning I would have supported him then and we need never have come to this.”

“You would have accepted his suit?”

“I would have listened if he’d said he loved you. I would then have watched and given him a chance to prove himself. He did not give me that chance and when he walked away with that cheque less than an hour after you were wed, a cocky grin on his face – I have never wished to kill a man more. I shall never approve of that. But now I understand his motives, I am giving him the chance I would have given him before.”

“Thank you, Papa. He will not let you down. I know he won’t.” Mary lifted to her toes and kissed her father’s cheek then turned to take her seat.

One of Mary’s cousin’s husband’s sat on Mary’s left, as her father walked further along to join her mother, who Robbie had led in.

The whole table broke into raucous conversation and laughter, as they dined, and discussions passed across the table, in a variety of volumes, while Andrew and his sister spoke exclusively to each other in low tones. Mary talked with her cousins, and Robbie who sat across the table.

Chapter 41

When Kate rose to lead the women from the room, Caroline turned to Andrew. “I shall retire.”

“Then I will come with you and walk you to your room.” He gave Mary an apologetic smile as he turned to walk Caroline from the room. “I will meet you in the drawing room.”

Mary nodded.

When Andrew came down, her cousin Margaret was playing the pianoforte and singing as the men drifted back into the drawing room in groups.

Mary gripped his hand, seeking to protect him, and drew him away from conversations.

She would guess none of them knew he was uncomfortable, but she could see it in his stiffness.

“Let us dance!” Mary’s cousin Eleanor called, clapping her hands to silence the room. Immediately the men began shifting chairs aside to make space.

“I am only participating if we are dancing waltzes!” Her father shouted at Eleanor.

“And he will then only dance with Mama… Will you dance with me?” Mary whispered to Andrew.

He smiled. “If you wish me to.”

He’d promised her tolerance, and he’d tolerated her family thus far. She’d sit it out if she must. But she did wish to dance, and she wished to dance with him, not with anyone else. They had never danced a waltz.

His smile twisted and he leaned to her ear. “You want to very much, don’t you? I’m sorry if I seem reluctant, it is just all evening I have felt your family watching. I do not like to be the entertainment.”

“Then look at me, and do not think of them.”

Margaret began a slow waltz, there were too many couples in the room for them to dance boldly. Andrew’s hand slipped to Mary’s back and urged her into movement.

Her knees weak she stumbled through the first steps as her stomach turned somersaults, dancing its own waltz.

“Happy?” he asked, as he spun her over exuberantly.

“Now you are here.
Only
when you are here.”

He smiled. “I’m glad me making a fool of myself has some worth.”

“It has significant worth. You have even charmed Mama and Papa.”

His smile pulled sideways, then he leaned a little to her ear. “Your father called me son.”

“Then he approves of you.”

“He approves if I am good for you. I am being good.”

“You were always good for me, even when you were very bad.”

“So I have permission to be bad then?”

“As if you have ever awaited permission.”

His breath brushed her neck and his lips touched her ear, and then she was pressed flush against him, her thighs moving against his, as her breasts crushed against his chest.

She would have backed away and told him off, but every couple in the room danced close.

It was entrancing.

When the music ceased and they stopped, the onyx pupils at the heart of his eyes were wide and deep.

She knew what he was thinking.

Margaret began another tune. Hunger and longing shone in his eyes as they began to move again, and his fingers slipped a little into the neck of her gown at her back. Then his head bent and his teeth nipped her neck.