When a Marquis Chooses a Bride (14 page)

Chapter Eleven

Dom covered Thea's mouth once more with his, intending to wipe away any doubts she had. Claim her as his. All of her. Forever.

She tasted of tea, and wine, and woman with a hint of lavender. From the moment he touched his lips to hers, she couldn't get enough. Although she was clearly an innocent, she hadn't been shocked when he stroked her. He had, quite frankly, never expected such warmth in a wife. Now that he had a sample of what could be, he could scarcely believe his good fortune. Suddenly, it was very important that she want their wedding as much as he did. She was his.

Her hard nipples pressed into his chest and she moaned. He slid his palms over her back and down to her bottom. He wanted to feel her silken skin beneath him, be in her, filling her with his seed. A month seemed like a very long time.

He slid his fingers over Thea's breasts again. She gave him a low breathy cry and kissed him with a naïve fervor that undid him.

He had always been able to please women, yet this was so much more important than simply giving pleasure. He should slow down, but he needed to bind her to him, make her his in a way he'd never thought important before. If only he could take her home now. . . . Perhaps that was the answer. As a country squire's daughter Thea had much to learn in order to fulfill the role of his marchioness. She should move to Merton House so his mother could show her how to go on. His mother being in residence would make it all proper. Surely her parents wouldn't mind. They would be ecstatic with this marriage. After all, it wasn't every day that the daughter of an unknown baronet married a marquis.

He broke the kiss. “We should go back before Worthington comes looking for you.”

She sighed. “He is not at all happy, is he?”

“I would say that is an understatement. At the very least, he'd like to murder me.” Though Worthington would probably consider castration as well.

Thea gazed up at Dom, looking like a thoroughly kissed woman. If his cousin saw her now, it would definitely be castration.

“Our betrothal was not your fault,” she said. “It might even have been mine for not finding someone to go with me. It's just that there was so little time to warn you.”

He kissed her lightly. He would not allow her to blame herself. If she had been more prudent, he wouldn't be engaged to her. Yet, when was she ever prudent? “Perhaps fate played a role. And, as I told you, I am pleased we are marrying. My only wish is that you are happy as well.”

“It has all been so sudden, but I am sure I will be fine.” She lowered her thick dusky lashes. “I like kissing you.”

It was then he knew. When Thea looked at him, she did not see a marquis or a wealthy landowner, she saw only the man. Had that ever happened to him before? When was the last time he'd forgotten, even for a few minutes, who he was?

He had been ten years old, and he had never disobeyed Uncle Alasdair until then. Dom blocked out the criticism he knew his uncle would have heaped upon him. Still, even his uncle would understand he had to marry Thea.

Then again, he had gone outside hoping to meet her. He had stubbornly refused to listen to her warning. Had he wanted them to be compromised? No one had mentioned that part of this whole situation.

“Is everything all right?” He glanced down and concern lurked in her wide green eyes as she stared up at him.

“I beg pardon?”

“It's just that you looked far away for a moment.”

He lowered his head, brushing his lips across hers once more. “Yes, I'm fine. Everything is fine.”

It would be torture having her in his house. He could barely keep his hands off her now. No matter, they were marrying in any event. Nothing could stop that. Over half the
ton
had seven or eight-month babies. Why should he wait? Damnation, what was he thinking? Worthington would never allow her to move into Merton House, and Dom could not ravish her under his own roof. His uncle had been right. Too much passion made a man reckless. He had to keep himself under control around her.

Forcing himself to drop his arms, he quickly took her hand. “We had better go back.”

They strolled slowly to the drawing room. When they entered the room, the ladies were still in deep discussions. But Worthington was gone, as were Charlotte and Louisa.

Dom didn't want to wait a month. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Three weeks.”

Thea glanced up at him, confused. “Three weeks for what?”

“I do not wish to wait so long before we wed.” He blew on her ear, pleased when she shivered. He slowly toyed with the curls at the nape of her neck. “Do you?”

She searched his face for a moment before answering, “No.”

It was already close to the end of April. “We can marry in the middle of May. As soon as I receive confirmation that your father has been informed of our betrothal, I shall place the announcement in the
Morning Post
.”

Thea nodded and glanced toward the others in the room. “Excuse me.” She walked to where Grace, his mother, the Dowager Lady Worthington, and Lady Bellamny were talking. “Excuse me, but Lord Merton and I have decided we would like to marry in three weeks. There is no reason to wait longer.”

Grace and her mother-in-law each raised one brow. Dom's mother smiled, and a knowing look appeared in Lady Bellamny's black eyes.

She chuckled. “Merton, it's about time you stopped being such a slow top.”

He inclined his head and grinned. “Yes, ma'am.”

“There may be hope for you yet.”

As his uncle's voice battered him, Dom's hand slid to Thea's waist and tightened.

Somehow he'd figure out how to make her happy. Was that not a duty as well?

* * *

The next day, Elizabeth paced the morning room, waiting for her cousin to call. Finally, at noon, her maid brought a note from Lavvie, stating she had been detained. Elizabeth pondered warning Miss Stern, but they were not close, and Elizabeth might be able to talk her cousin out of whatever it was she was planning. If only Papa hadn't lied to her. That was what started this whole problem. Well, at least she would not have to speak with him about it. Gavin said he'd talk to their father.

As she was about to leave, the door opened, and Aunt Agatha entered in a flurry of scarves and feathers. “My dear Elizabeth, how fortunate to find you at home. Come give me a kiss. I have already ordered tea. You shall catch me up on all the latest
crim cons,
then I will take a look at your invitations. Don't worry, my love. I'll find you a husband in no time.”

Elizabeth felt a little faint as Aunt Agatha embraced her. A floppy feather from her turban tickled Elizabeth's nose, making her want to sneeze. “I did not expect you so soon. Gavin told me only last night he had made arrangements for you to come.”

“Well.” Aunt Agatha sniffed. “Once your brother told me your father had put you in Lavinia's charge with orders to bring Merton up to scratch, I knew immediately it would not do. One does not go into a Season with only one marital prospect in mind.”

It was no use trying to defend either her father or her cousin, and after what had happened, Elizabeth saw no reason to do so in any event. “Yes, ma'am.”

“And”—her aunt shook her finger—“I don't like Manners. The man's a loose fish if I ever saw one. A marriageable lady cannot be too careful of her reputation.”

Elizabeth repressed a shudder at what she had almost done. Thank God Gavin had stopped her. When the tea arrived, she poured a cup for her aunt.

“I have already sent a note around to Lavinia explaining that she need not concern herself with you any longer.”

“Thank you.” With any luck, Lavvie would give up the scheme she was hatching to separate Miss Stern and Lord Merton.

Her aunt nodded. “You shall move to my house. Before that, however, we must call on Miss Stern.”

Elizabeth choked on her tea and began to cough. “I—I beg your pardon. I barely know her.”

“Unfortunately, there is a suspicion going around that Lavinia started some nasty rumors about Miss Stern and Merton. We must distance you from any talk. Therefore, as soon as we've had luncheon, we will go round to Stanwood House. In any event, I am connected to the Dowager Lady Worthington, and it would be considered odd if I did not call on her. You may take the opportunity to wish Miss Stern happy.”

Elizabeth wished she was a turtle and could hide in her shell, but Aunt Agatha was right. If anyone connected her with her cousin's gossip, it would destroy any chance she had of making a good match. And there was that note. She prayed no one would connect her with the message to Merton.

* * *

When she and her aunt arrived at Stanwood House the sound of feminine voices could be heard down the corridor. Once they were announced the room fell silent. She plastered a polite smile on her face as her aunt took her arm and swept regally into the room.

“Patience,” Aunt Agatha said to a woman with blond hair seated with Lady Louisa.

“Agatha.” The lady came forward and bussed Aunt Agatha on the cheek then glanced at Elizabeth. “What a lovely surprise.”

“Allow me to introduce my niece, Miss Turley. Elizabeth, the Dowager Lady Worthington.”

Elizabeth made her curtsey. “A pleasure to meet you, my lady.”

The dowager smiled. “I am delighted you are here.”

Elizabeth focused on Miss Stern. “It is nice to see you. I—I would like to wish you happy. I am truly pleased you are marrying Lord Merton.”

Although she appeared a little surprised at first, when she smiled, it lit her eyes. “Thank you. I'm glad you came to visit.”

“I have not paid many morning calls—”

“Unfortunately, I was late coming to Town,” Aunt Agatha said. “I am sponsoring my niece, you know. A cousin of hers had been chaperoning poor Elizabeth, but I shall say nothing more about
that
.” Leaving no one in doubt of her disapproval. “I believe my niece could benefit from a wider acquaintance. It is her first Season after all, and she must make the most of it.” She smiled beatifically at Miss Stern. “I shall wish you happy as well. Make no mistake about it, though, you must take Merton in hand.”

Miss Stern gave Aunt Agatha a rueful grin. “So I have been told, my lady.” Miss Stern turned back to Elizabeth with another warm smile. “Please call me Dotty. All my friends do. Come, I shall introduce you to some of the other ladies. I think you already know Lady Charlotte Carpenter and Lady Louisa Vivers.”

“Yes, we met before the Season began. I would like it very much if you called me Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth let out a small sigh of relief as Dotty linked arms with her and set off toward a group of young ladies. If the future Marchioness of Merton accepted her, everyone else would as well. It was now even more imperative that Elizabeth stop whatever Lavvie was planning.

* * *

Cordelia, having tired of her parlor on the first floor of Stern Manor, now felt well enough to remove to the morning room, which overlooked the back garden currently resplendent with roses, dianthus, and nigella. Her butler handed a silver salver with three letters on it to her.

Taking up her letter opener, she popped the seal to Dorothea's letter first. “Thank you. Please have tea brought to me.”

He bowed. “Of course, my lady.”

She read the second line twice before her heart started to pound. When she was finally able to give voice to her excitement, her tone sounded shrill to her ears. “Hudson!”

Without batting an eye, he replied in a sonorous tone, “My lady?”

“Fetch Sir Henry. Miss Dotty is getting married!”

This proved too much for even Hudson. His eyes widened. “Our Miss Dotty?”

Cordelia fanned herself with the letter. “Do you know another?”

“No, my lady. I shall find him straightaway. Our Miss Dotty getting married! Excellent, excellent.”

She glanced down at the missive again.

Tears came to Cordelia's eyes as she opened the note from Grace, who did indeed explain the whole situation and gave her opinion that, although Merton could be very high in the instep, he seemed to dote on Dorothea.

The third letter was from the Dowager, Marchioness of Merton. Marchioness? Dotty was going to be a
marchioness,
and she hadn't even mentioned his title. Cordelia shook her head, smiling. How like her daughter to be more concerned that he took in her strays. Not that with her birth and connections she couldn't look as high as she wanted. It was merely that Cordelia never thought that her daughter would make such an advantageous match.

Not too many minutes later, her husband strode into the room holding two letters and frowning.

“What is it, my dear?” she asked.

“I don't know if I like how Dotty is conducting herself in Town. I've half a mind to bring her home.”