The Pursuit Of Marriage (25 page)

“You should probably slap me for that,” she said in a breathless manner. “For taking liberties with you, that is.”

“I would never hit a woman.” He studied her for a moment, then smiled in a slow and wicked manner.

“Although the idea of putting you over my knee and smacking your bottom has a certain amount of appeal.”

She gasped with unsuspected delight. “Reggie!”

“Cassandra.” He blew a long breath. “We need to talk before—”

“Yes?” She sighed up at him and brushed her lips across his.

“Before it’s too late.”

“It is too late.” She nibbled at his bottom lip and reveled in the way his body tensed.

“You do know this way lies scandal and ruin?” There was an odd edge to his voice, as if he struggled to keep himself under control. Excellent.

She shifted to run kisses along the line of his jaw. “I know and I don’t care.”

“Why?” He swallowed hard.

“Because…” Because I love you. Something, fear perhaps, kept the words from her lips. “Because I am four and twenty and considered eccentric. Because I have never met a man I would even consider leaping into scandal and ruin for. It appears I have never wanted a man before.” She rested her palm on his cheek and gazed into his eyes. “And I want you.”

“I see,” he said slowly.

“Do you?”

“No. But then I’m not confident I will ever understand anything when it comes to you.”

There was a distinct note of permanence about his statement, and her breath caught. He took her hand, pulled it to his lips, and placed a kiss in the center of her palm. Delight shivered through her.

“We should return to the others before we are missed,” he said in a resolute manner she did not believe for a moment. “And we do need to talk.”

“Do we?” she murmured.

“If we are not to be embroiled in scandal we do.”

“I rather like the idea of being embroiled in scandal.”

“I, however, do not.”

“I should think you would be well used to being embroiled in scandal.” She placed her hands flat on his chest and felt his muscles tighten beneath her fingers in a most satisfying manner.

“Certainly, in the past,” he said quickly, “but if I am to reform…”

“Perhaps reform can wait.” She slid her hands up his chest.

He caught her hands and stared into her eyes. “This is neither the time nor the place for a serious discussion—or for anything else, for that matter.”

“I suspect I can think of all sorts of wonderful places, wonderful private places, for serious discussions or…anything else.” Her voice was low and inviting and rather shocking, even to herself. She had flirted with men in the past, of course, but had never set out to be quite so available, even willing, and, yes, blatantly seductive before.

“I’m certain you can.” He set her firmly aside and stepped back. She planted her fists on her hips and glared. “What on earth is the matter with you?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all,” he said in a less than convincing manner.

“I don’t believe you. Why, here I am, more than willing to allow you to take advantage of me, and you won’t.”

“I have standards regarding where and when,” he said loftily.

“Certainly not with whom, given your reputation.” She studied him with growing annoyance. “Or maybe it is with whom?”

“I…I…” He squared his shoulders and gazed down at her. “I do not despoil virgins.”

“Even willing virgins?”

“They’re the worst kind.”

“But I’m a willing virgin!” The words came out of her mouth before she could stop them, and heat rushed up her face.

“I believe I just made my point.” He grabbed her hand and started toward the stairs. “Come on, we have to return. At once.”

“Why?”

“Because.” He stopped abruptly and whirled her into his arms. “Because I do have standards, Cassandra, confuser of men, not only about young women far and away too forward for their own good but about the proper way and time and place for such things, and if we remain here I cannot vouch for your continued safety or mine.”

“I don’t want to be safe!”

“But I want to keep you safe.” He gazed down at her with a look so intense that it stole her breath and her will and her heart. “I will not allow anyone, including myself, to hurt you. Which fairly well prevents me from taking your innocence, no matter how eagerly offered, on the hard ground beneath the rosebushes during a moment stolen from a party. You deserve better.”

“Do I?”

“Yes, you do.” He smiled with a mix of wry amusement and what was surely affection. “You are, after all, the eccentric Miss Effington.”

Never had that title sounded so very wonderful. “And you are the infamous Lord Berkley.”

He stared at her for a moment, then shook his head, grabbed her hand, and once again started back to the drawing room. “You shall be the ruined Miss Effington if we don’t return immediately.”

“I should rather like being the ruined Miss Effington,” she murmured behind him. “If my ruin were at the hands of the infamous Lord Berkley.”

“Good God.” He groaned and muttered something she didn’t hear, then started up the stairs, practically dragging her behind him.

Sheer joy bubbled up within her. Perhaps the man was easier to understand than she had thought. While she was not experienced with men on a truly intimate basis, she certainly knew enough to know when one wanted her in a carnal sense. And Reggie did indeed want her just as she wanted him. She could think of only one thing that would prevent aman with an infamous reputation from taking precisely what he wanted, indeed, what he was offered.

She laughed aloud and again he mumbled something she didn’t catch. Not that it mattered. At this particular moment she was fairly certain the infamous Lord Berkley was in love with the eccentric Miss Effington.

Now she simply had to get him to admit it, and accept it, and, with any luck at all, do something about it.

Twelve

When dealing with the fairer sex one must always be cognizant of the fact that what they say is not always what they mean. And woe be it to the man who does not understand the difference.

Anthony, Viscount St. Stephens

“S o what am I to do?” Impatience edged Reggie’s voice.

Marcus and Thomas circled the billiards table. It had taken an eternity for the rest of their party to retire for the night. While the ladies had bid their good evenings some time ago, the gentlemen had adjourned to Holcroft Hall’s billiards room to play and partake of Marcus’s fine brandy and good cigars. Drummond, of course, had won every game he’d played and had done so with such good nature that his opponents could not begrudge his victories. Even Reggie had a difficult time disliking the blasted man. He couldn’t imagine how Drummond had ever lost a wager to Christian, as he couldn’t imagine the man ever losing anything to anyone. Both Effington brothers and St. Stephens were excellent players as well. Townsend was fairly good but not consistent, and young Bellingham had a great deal to learn. Whiting and Colonel Fargate had observed the others briefly, then taken their leave. At long last, only the three old friends remained.

“Well?” Reggie glared at the other men.

Marcus studied the table. “I don’t see that you have any particular problems remaining at this point.” He leaned over the table and took his shot. “She wants you. You want her. The question as to what you do now seems rather obvious to me.”

“Do try to remember this is my cousin you’re speaking of,” Thomas said mildly and positioned his cue.

“As the next Duke of Roxborough and eventual head of the family, I have the responsibility of keeping Cassandra’s best interests in mind.”

“I do want to marry her, of course.” Indignation colored Reggie’s voice. “I certainly wouldn’t concern you with this if I were interested merely in seduction.”

“And I so appreciate that,” Thomas murmured, took his shot, and straightened. “I must admit, though, that I agree with Marcus. What is the difficulty now?”

“There are any number of problems.” Reggie drew his brows together and stared into his brandy-filled glass. “Prime among them, that I have not been entirely honest with her. She thinks I’m something I’m not.”

Thomas and Marcus traded glances.

“Beyond that,” Reggie blew a long breath, “while she is apparently willing to throw herself into my bed—”

Thomas cleared his throat.

“Sorry.” Reggie grimaced. “Still, that is part and parcel of my quandary. She definitely wants me in the carnal sense, and while I don’t have a particular difficulty with that—”

Thomas choked, leaned his cue against the table, grabbed his glass of brandy, and quickly downed it.

“Are you all right?” Marcus studied the marquess.

“Quite.” Thomas shook his head. “It is simply rather difficult to reconcile family responsibilities with longtime friendships. However,” he squared his shoulders, “for the remainder of this evening, I shall do my best to think of Cassandra as the object of your affection rather than as my cousin.” He met Reggie’s gaze directly. “She is the object of your affection, is she not?”

Marcus grinned. “He’s in love.”

Thomas raised a brow. “Again?”

“For the last time,” Reggie said firmly.

“I should hope so, if indeed your aim is marriage.” Thomas studied him carefully. “Why don’t you just declare your intentions and be done with it?”

“He can’t, or rather he won’t. He has made a habit of declaring himself before whatever lady in question has made her feelings known, and it’s always ended badly.” Marcus placed his cue against the table with a reluctant sigh. “I gather this takes precedence over the game?”

“It does seem rather more important.” Thomas shrugged. “Reggie’s future and all that.”

“Thank you,” Reggie said wryly. “I do appreciate your concern.”

Marcus grinned. “It’s nothing, old man, nothing at all.”

“Precisely my thinking,” Reggie muttered.

“We have to go about this in a logical manner.” Thomas thought for a moment. “You want her. She wants you—”

“But she hasn’t mentioned love.”

“Nor have you,” Marcus said pointedly.

“And unfortunately, you have to take the lead in endeavors like this.” Thomas shook his head. “Even the most outspoken woman is restrained on this particular subject. It’s been my experience, and Marcus’s as well, I believe, that women aren’t typically the ones to declare their feelings first.”

“Mine too.” Reggie’s voice was grim with memory.

“Therefore you have to charge ahead. Take the horse by the reins. Jump headfirst into the freezing waters. That sort of thing,” Marcus said firmly.

“Plunge off the precipice,” Reggie murmured.

“Exactly.”

“And plummet to smash into a million bloody pieces on the treacherous rocks below.” Reggie heaved a deep sigh. “I’d much prefer to avoid that.”

“Good God, he has gone over the edge.” Thomas stared in disbelief. “I’ve seen him in the throes of love in the past, but I’ve never seen him quite so stricken over any woman before.”

“This time it’s real,” Reggie said loftily, then paused. “There is another problem, you know.”

Thomas glanced at Marcus. “I suspected there would be.”

“If indeed she’s in love and not merely in lust,” Reggie blew a long breath, “then there is every possibility the man she cares for is the infamous Lord Berkley. Not the really rather ordinary…well…

me.”

“I believe it’s time we had a serious talk with his lordship,” Marcus said to Thomas. Thomas nodded and plucked Reggie’s glass from his hand. “We should have done it years ago.”

As if of a single mind, each man grabbed one of Reggie’s elbows, steered him to the end of the room, and deposited him in a large, comfortable leather chair.

“What are you doing?” Reggie glared up at his friends.

“Putting your life in the proper perspective.” Marcus retrieved their glasses and thrust Reggie’s at him. Thomas fetched the brandy decanter and replenished the drinks. “You need to start viewing yourself as others do.”

Reggie huffed. “I don’t see—”

“That’s precisely the problem.” Marcus paced in front of him. “You don’t see, and it’s past time you did.”

Thomas paced in the opposite direction. “Let’s start with the obvious.” He stopped and considered Reggie carefully, then nodded. “You are not ugly, indeed, some might call you handsome—even dashing. I have seen ladies look at you, including my own wife and her sisters, and never once have I seen a single woman turn away in disgust.”

“My appearance is acceptable, I suppose,” Reggie muttered.

“Also, in terms of the obvious, your station in life is not to be scoffed at.” Marcus ticked the points off on his fingers. “You have an honorable title, a respectable fortune, a fine estate, and a grand house in town—”

“Currently being refurbished by the aforementioned object of your affection,” Thomas said pointedly.

“Beyond that, you are unfailingly loyal in your friendships, a good son and brother, generous to a fault, and a genuinely nice person. All things considered,” Marcus paused and nodded, “I’d marry you.”

Thomas raised his glass. “As would I.”

“As delightful as that knowledge is, women don’t seem to agree.” Reggie scoffed. “Even after we enhanced my reputation, women were still not falling at my feet, if you recall.”

“Excluding Miss Bellingham, of course,” Marcus chuckled.

“The irony is irresistible. The brightest star of the season wants the infamous Lord Berkley, who really isn’t infamous and wants someone entirely different, who doesn’t want anyone infamous at all.” Thomas nudged Marcus with his elbow. “Although I do demand some of the credit for his infamy. I believe many of the amorous exploits, most notably the mythical notorious affair with the mysterious royal, were my concoctions.”

“And excellent they were, too. I fear my biggest credit is the duels,” Marcus said with a sigh. “Perhaps I did not truly do my part.”

Reggie rolled his gaze toward the ceiling. “Infamous or not, I have never especially attracted women.”

“Nonsense,” Marcus snorted. “You have attracted any number of women. They were simply never the women you wanted. Until now, you’ve only been attracted to women who did not return your affection. And that, my dear Reggie, is the crux of the matter. That is the only real problem you have at the moment.” Marcus finished with a flourish.

“What is the only real problem?” Reggie stared up at him.

“The fact that there is no problem!” Marcus’s voice rose with exasperation. “You want her, she wants you. The only thing that stands in your way is—”

Thomas gasped dramatically and clasped his free hand over his heart. “Nothing!”

“Not a blasted thing! Not one single impediment prevents you from making Cassandra Effington your own. It’s never happened before. There’s no precedent. Oh, dear heavens, whatever shall you do now?”

Marcus threw himself onto Thomas’s shoulder in a theatrical show of profuse weeping without spilling a single drop of his brandy. “It’s dreadful, all of it.”

“There, there.” Thomas patted Marcus’s back and glared at Reggie. “Now see what you’ve done.”

Thomas craned his neck to look at Marcus. “Are you soused, old man?”

Marcus lifted his head and furrowed his brow. “I don’t think so. In point of fact, I think I’m remarkably clearheaded.”

Thomas nodded. “Indeed, I don’t know when I’ve been so clearheaded.”

“You’re not the least bit funny, you know.” Reggie sipped his brandy and studied his friends. “This is my life we’re talking about.”

Marcus stepped away from Thomas. “Then live it. For the first time, you are in love with a woman who more than likely loves you in return. And I think…” Marcus’s eyes widened in realization. “I think you’re terrified.”

Reggie snorted. “Wouldn’t you be if you’d had your heart broken again and again?”

“That’s not what scares you. Frankly, I’m an idiot not to have seen it before now.” Marcus grinned.

“You’re afraid of marriage. Permanence. One woman, one love if you will. Forever and ever. What do you think, Thomas? Am I right?”

“Absolutely. It makes perfect sense.” Thomas nodded firmly. “Why, there have always been women more than willing to marry him, he simply had no interest in them. Now that marriage is staring him in the face, now that there is every possibility that the object of his affections will return said affection and actually marry him, the man is a quivering mass of nervous indecision.” Thomas’s grin matched Marcus’s and was just as annoying.

“That’s absurd,” Reggie snapped. “It’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

Or perhaps it was simply stunning in its simplicity.

Certainly handing his heart to women who did not return his affection effectively prevented any serious overtures toward marriage. Still, Reggie had thought he wanted to be wed even if he had always rather enjoyed his unencumbered life. He had never truly been the infamous Lord Berkley, but he had had an exceptionally good time of it.

“And as for this infamous nonsense, from what I understand, Cassandra cares for you not because of your alleged reputation but in spite of it,” Thomas said.

“Reggie.” Marcus’s tone softened. “I have seen you risk your heart any number of times without fear. Now, I suspect you’re afraid to do so because the stakes are so much higher regardless of whether you lose or whether you win.”

“You are far from ordinary, old man, and I am proud to count you as my friend,” Thomas said with an affectionate smile. “And I should like nothing better than to welcome you into my family.”

“Very well.” Reggie thought for a moment. “If you’re right, and marriage is what I fear, I’d best face up to it, because I have never felt about any woman the way I do about Cassandra. And I cannot risk losing her.”

Determination washed through him, and he got to his feet. “I’ll do it. I’ll tell her. Throw caution to the winds. Confess my feelings. Bare my soul.” He started toward the door, then stopped. “While I’m telling all, I should probably mention that I’m not infamous as well.”

“No!” Marcus and Thomas said with one voice.

Reggie winced. “Not a good idea?”

“She’s willing to reform you,” Marcus said firmly. “For God’s sake, permit her to do so.”

“Effington women have always loved a good challenge,” Thomas added.

“Then I shall provide her with one.” Reggie nodded and again headed toward the door.

“You’re not going to speak to her now, are you?” Thomas called after him. “It’s very late. She’ll be in bed.”

“Nonetheless, I shall wake her,” Reggie said firmly. “I can wait no longer. Thank you both for your assistance.”

“He’s going to her bed in the middle of the night,” Thomas muttered to Marcus. “I should probably stop him. If anything untoward happens, I should have to defend her honor. Shoot him or something like that.”

“Or we could play another game,” Marcus said.

Thomas’s answer faded behind Reggie.

Not that it mattered. Reggie hurried down the passageway and started up the stairs. He had no intention of doing anything other than declaring his intentions to the eccentric—or rather the irresistible—Miss Effington. Of course, given her enthusiasm earlier this evening, if she had something else in mind…. He grinned and picked up his step. It’s not as if she would be ruined for long, as he had every intention of marrying her. And as soon as possible.

Scared of marriage? Of being with the same woman for the rest of his days? Hah. At least not if that same woman was Cassandra. Life with Cassandra would never be the least bit ordinary or dull or anything but filled with adventure and excitement and passion. He had made a point of learning exactly which room she occupied. Fifth from the stairs, north side of the hallway. He counted the doors, drew a deep breath, knocked softly, and hoped she hadn’t locked her door. He grasped the handle, pushed it open, and slipped into her room.

“Cassandra,” he said quietly and closed the door behind him. A low, sleepy moan sounded from the bed.

A scant ray of starlight shone through the open curtains, and he could make out nothing more than a covered mound on the bed.

He stepped closer but not too close. He really didn’t want to distract her from his words, and the very thought of her lying beneath the covers was distracting enough for him.

“For once don’t say anything, just listen.”

He drew a deep breath and groped for the right words. And couldn’t seem to find them. Why on earth was this so blasted hard?

“I don’t want you to see Drummond when we return to London,” he blurted. “I don’t want you to see anyone. I…I care for you deeply. More than I’ve ever cared for anyone.”

He clasped his hands behind his back and paced. “I know I’m not what you say you want. Lord knows, I’m not the least bit perfect and will never be perfect, but I am willing to be reformed. And I think we suit rather well together, you and I. In all things really, but then when I kissed you—”

A choking noise sounded from the bed.

“Very well then, when you kissed me and wanted, well, more, it was all I could do to restrain myself. You can be quite persuasive, you know. Beyond that I have never met a woman who drives me as mad as you do, and that seems rather significant, at least to me. Indeed, it’s quite overwhelming.”

He blew a long breath. “That’s it, I think, for the moment at any rate, although I daresay there’s a great deal more, but that shall have to wait for a more appropriate time because I know this isn’t at all proper and I’m going to have to leave now before I do something terribly rash and…well…” He braced himself. “You could say something now, if you wish. Or not say anything and I shall just go away and pretend I never said any of this and we can continue to be friends or whatever it is that we are…

“No, wait. I didn’t mean that.” His resolve hardened. “I won’t leave, I can’t leave, until I know what you’re thinking.”

“I’d love to see you in London, Berkley.” A deep male voice sounded from the bed. “But I fear you’re not exactly what I’m looking for in a match.”

Reggie’s stomach twisted into a tight knot. “Leo Effington, I presume?”

“Indeed.” At least there was a mild hint of amusement in his voice. “And oddly enough, I don’t recall ever kissing you.”

“Yes, well, my mistake obviously.” Reggie edged toward the door. How could he have miscounted? “If you’ll excuse me.”

“I won’t.” Effington’s voice was firm. “I should like a few words with you and would appreciate it if you would stay right where you are. I am willing to force you to do so if necessary, but I sleep with very little in the way of clothing, and I would much prefer to stay exactly where I am.”

“Excellent idea,” Reggie said under his breath. He did not relish the idea of a confrontation with Cassandra’s irate, and no doubt naked, oldest brother. Indeed, he’d rather prefer to have the man on his side, but that might well be too much to hope for at the moment. He adopted a cool tone. “This is hardly the time and place for a serious discussion, Effington.”

“Need I remind you, you crept into my room with your declaration of”—Effington paused thoughtfully

—“what were you declaring, anyway?”

Reggie huffed. “Love, of course.”

“You didn’t mention love.”

“Of course I mentioned love.” Reggie tried to remember exactly what he did say. “I distinctly remember saying I love you—er—her.”

“No, you didn’t. You said you cared for her. You said you cared for her more than you’d ever cared for anyone. All in all, it was really quite a nice speech—”

“Thank you,” Reggie murmured.

“But you never used the word love,” Effington said.

“Well, I meant to say love.”

“Yes, but you didn’t, and I must say, Berkley, if you intend to declare yourself to my sister in the middle of the night like this, I would pay more attention to precisely what you are going to say in advance of stumbling around in the dark. A moderate bit of practice is probably called for.”

Reggie grimaced. “Practice, excellent idea.”

“Just a suggestion, mind you.”

“And most appreciated.”

“I’m assuming, overall, that your intentions are honorable? Marriage, I mean.”

“Yes.”

“Then I have another suggestion.”

“I thought perhaps you would.”

“Marry her, Berkley.” A warning sounded in Effington’s voice. “Then seduce her.”

“Excellent suggestion.” Of course, if she were to seduce him…. He pushed the thought from his mind.

“I should not like it otherwise.”

“Nor should you.”

“I have heard of your skill on the dueling fields—”

Reggie groaned to himself.

“I should hate to have to call you out in defense of my sister’s honor, but I will do so without hesitation.”

“I would expect no less.”

“And I will demand marriage.”

“I don’t think we’ll suit,” Reggie said under his breath.

“What?”

“I said before or after you shoot?”

Effington paused. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“I shall leave you, then, to your decision and your rest and bid you good night.” Reggie stepped to the door and pulled it open.

“Berkley.” Effington’s voice was level. “I do wish you luck. In your pursuit of marriage, that is. And I daresay it won’t be nearly as difficult as you imagine.”

“We shall see.” Reggie stepped into the hall.

“It might well be worse,” Effington chuckled softly, and Reggie closed the door firmly behind him. It had been a foolish idea to try to speak with Cassandra tonight in the first place, and he certainly hadn’t furthered his cause with her brother. He still wasn’t sure how he’d mistaken her room, although there was a possibility brandy had played a part. Still, he had no intention of trying another door. Who knew where he’d end up? He would make it a point to get her alone tomorrow and confess his feelings. Hopefully, far better than he’d done so tonight.

He started toward his own quarters. A door creaked open behind him as he passed. Without warning, he was jerked into the dark room, the door snapping shut behind him.