Whirlwind Wedding (15 page)

"Of course not! Aunt Joanna has been nothing but kind to me."

"And would you repay her kindness by risking her position amongst the
ton?"

Her eyes widened into pools of distress. "No! But—"

"Then marriage is the only way to protect yourself and her," he stated amazed—and damn it, annoyed—by her obvious reluctance to become his wife.

Her golden brown gaze was so filled with worry, he wondered if he'd proposed marriage or a tar and feathering. A thread of unexpected amusement worked its way through his irritation—not at her, but at himself and his own conceit. He'd never expected he'd actually need to
convince
a woman to be his bride.

One look at her face told him he'd have to do just that.

Adopting a mildly teasing tone, he said "Your expression, which can only be described as troubled, indicates you haven't taken into account the fact that marriage to me would come along with certain benefits."

His pride took another slap at her confused look.

"Benefits?"

"Yes. It is an English word meaning 'good things.' For instance, you would be a duchess."

Every drop of color drained from her face. "I do not want to be a duchess!"

He would have staked his own life on the certainty that he'd never hear those words uttered from any woman's lips. Before he could fashion a reply, she started to pace in front of him.

"Surely you can see that I'm a social failure and would make a dreadful duchess," she said. "People snicker at me from behind potted palms. I'm awkward. I know nothing about fashion. I'm a miserable dancer. And in case you haven't noticed I'm horribly tall."

Austin's jaw tightened. "No one will snicker at the Duchess of Bradford."

Not if they want to keep all their teeth in place.
"As for the other things, you can easily learn about fashion and dancing. Between your aunt, my mother, and Caroline, you'll know more than you ever wanted to."

She stopped pacing and faced him, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"You're quite adept at solving problems, I see. How do you propose we cure my height?"

He stroked his chin and pretended to ponder the matter. "Personally, I rather like the easy access to your mouth, and in case it's missed your notice, I
am
taller than you."

Her eyes filled with tenderness. "Oh, Austin, you are indeed wonderful to offer to sacrifice yourself this way, but I simply cannot allow you to do so. I would never want to bring embarrassment or shame to you and your family."

He barely refrained from shaking his head in amazement. She wasn't thinking of herself—she was thinking of
him.
And how ironic that the things she believed were faults—her awkwardness, her lack of dancing ability and fashion sense, and her height—were just a few of the dozens of things he found so unique, refreshing, and fascinating about her. The fact that she would even consider not accepting an offer of marriage from the man dubbed "England's Most Eligible Bachelor" truly stunned him.

And made him all the more determined to have his way.

As for bringing shame to the Bradford name, there wasn't anything she could do that could be worse than the secrets he already lived with— secrets that would destroy his entire family.

"You don't want to embarrass me, yet refusing my proposal will do just that," he said. "Everyone will believe that I'm a dishonorable libertine who ruined you, then refused to offer you marriage." He pushed aside his guilt at manipulating her soft heart and forced himself to add "I'd be summarily cast out of Society, no doubt forced to flee to the Continent like Brummell."

"Oh, Austin, I—"

He touched a single fingertip to her lips. "Marry me, Elizabeth." To his surprise, he realized he was holding his breath, anxiously awaiting her answer.

Elizabeth gazed at his impossibly handsome, incredibly serious face and her insides simply melted. His proposal reverberated over and over again in her mind.
Marry me. Marry me. Marry me.

Dear God, how could she possibly say no? How could
any
woman say no to this man? Even if she didn't consider the possible social harm to him and Aunt Joanna, she couldn't deny her feelings for Austin. Although she wished she didn't, she loved him. She wanted to help him. Protect him.

What if further danger befell him? Whether he realized it or not, he needed her.

But he didn't love her. He was simply offering to marry her to save her reputation, to preserve his honor.

Sadness washed over her, but even as it did a tiny voice inside gave her hope.
He may not love me now, but if I can discover something about William to
prove he s alive, or perhaps learn something about this Frenchman . . . if I can
bring Austin peace, then maybe he will grow to love me. As I love him.

Was it possible? Could he fall in love with her? Clearly he could have his choice of any of the beautiful, fashionable Society
femmes
that moved in his world. She was painfully aware that she did not measure up in any way.

But by offering to marry her, he was clearly willing to make a huge sacrifice for her sake. The sheer enormity of that sacrifice stole her breath.

Dear God he was willing to spend the
rest of his life
with her. Surely it wasn't an offer he made lightly. So surely he had to care for her, even if it was just the
tiniest
bit.

Didn't he?

It wasn't an ideal situation, but it was a start. She'd be a fool to refuse the proposal of the man she loved, and it was sophistication—not intelligence —she lacked. There was only one answer. Before she could open her mouth, however, he spoke, his tone distinctly dry.

"I must say, your continued silence is a bit . . . deflating. I've waited nine and twenty years to offer myself on the matrimonial altar, Elizabeth. Are you going to turn me down?"

Good heavens, he actually looked . . .
worried.
A grin tugged at her lips.

She tried to suppress it, but wasn't entirely successful. "Well, it
has
always been a dream of mine to give a crushing set down to an overamorous suitor."

Austin saw her dimples peeking through, heard her teasing tone, and forced his tensed muscles to relax. He stepped closer to her, until no more than several inches separated them. Skimming his hands down her arms, he entwined their fingers, then lightly brushed his lips over her cheek.

"I see. And if I were to become overamorous?" He breathed in the soft fragrance of lilacs, then gently captured her earlobe between his teeth.

"Oh!" Her shudder of pleasure filled him with masculine satisfaction.

"Well, in that case, I suppose I would . . ." Her voice trailed off into nothingness as he kissed his way down her slender neck. She tilted her head back to give him better access and he touched his tongue to the rapidly beating pulse at the base of her throat. Her skin was smooth as cream and she tasted like flowers and warm sunshine. Like no other woman.

He lifted his head and studied her lovely, flushed face. Her eyes were closed her lips moist and slightly parted her breath coming in uneven puffs. "In that case you would . . . ?" he prompted.

She dragged her eyelids open and stared directly into his eyes. The warmth and tenderness shimmering in her expressive golden-brown depths awed him. He searched his memory and realized that no one had ever looked at him that way before. Heat pumped through him and his body pulsed to life.

A hesitant smile trembled on her lips. "I would relent and marry you."

An incredible wave of what could only be described as relief swept through him. "Is that a yes?"

"Yes."

Thank God.
The thought hit him with the force of a fist to his head.

Refusing to examine it, he instead gathered her in his arms. His mouth descended and claimed hers in a searing kiss that left them both breathless.

His lips caressed her hungrily, his tongue slipping into the velvety warmth of her mouth. Moaning softly, she pressed herself against him and returned his kiss with a fervor that all but shattered his powers of restraint.
God. I
cannot wait until this woman is mine.

Her name whispered past his lips and he sifted his fingers through her silky hair while his mouth ravished hers, his tongue dipping and plunging, tasting her sweet warmth, until he ached beyond reason. Bloody hell, he wanted her. Now. Wanted her under him, over him, wrapped around him — "Am I interrupting?" an amused voice asked from the doorway.

Austin stilled and smothered a heartfelt curse. Damn it all, Robert had been away from home for two months. Surely his younger brother could have remained away for another two minutes.

Lifting his head Austin stared at Elizabeth's stricken, beet-red face. And her kiss-swollen lips. Robert was going to pay for this interruption. Very dearly.

Elizabeth tried to wriggle from his embrace, but he tightened his arms around her. "It's all right," he whispered. "It's only my brother." Keeping one arm firmly wrapped around her waist, he turned and shot Robert a murderous look. "I suppose while you were frolicking on the Continent, you forgot what a closed door means."

"Not at all," Robert replied his gaze settling on Elizabeth with avid curiosity. "I knocked. Several times, in fact. You were apparently too, um . .

.
busy
to hear me. I was about to return to the drawing room when I heard an unmistakable moan from within. Naturally I was concerned for your safety, so I entered." A devilish grin curved his lips. "Clearly there was no cause for alarm." He cleared his throat. "So, are you going to introduce me to this lovely young lady?"

Austin wanted to introduce him to the privet hedges. Head first. Sanity prevailed however. "Elizabeth, may I present my brother Robert, a young man not noted for his tact or timing. Robert, this is Miss Elizabeth Matthews . . . my fiancée."

"Pleased to meet—" Robert's words ended as if they'd been sliced off with a knife. His brows shot upward. "Did you say
fiancée?
As in betrothed? As in marriage?"

Austin's simmering annoyance was tempered considerably by the comically dumbfounded look on Robert's face. "Your command of the language and powers of deduction have always been a great source of pride to the entire family, Robert."

Without a word Robert crossed the carpet and dropped to one knee in front of Elizabeth. Clasping both hands over his heart, he said "My dear lady. It is indeed an honor to meet you. And you shall forever have my undying gratitude for removing my brother from the marriage market.

Now perhaps some other poor, unfortunate, untitled bloke, namely myself, will stand a chance to capture a beautiful woman's eye. I don't suppose there's another like you at home? A sister perhaps? Aunt? Cousin?

Grandmama?"

With hellfires scorching her cheeks, Elizabeth looked down at the young man kneeling before her. Teasing dark blue eyes gazed back up at her from a face that bore a marked resemblance to Austin's. But where Austin's countenance was firm, guarded and serious, his younger brother's was softer, open, and smiling. In spite of her stinging embarrassment, she couldn't help but return his infectious grin.

"A pleasure to meet you, Lord Robert," she said performing an awkward curtsy made all the more difficult by Austin's unmoving arm wrapped around her waist.

He rose to his feet and made her a bow. "You must call me Robert. And the pleasure is all mine." Turning to Austin, he extended his hand.

"Congratulations, Brother. I wish you much happiness."

Austin's grip around her waist relaxed. He shook Robert's hand. "Thank you, Robert. And as long as you are here, so
unexpectedly,
I'll take this opportunity to ask you to serve as my best man."

"Delighted to do so." Robert sent her a twinkling smile. "I've always known I was the best man. It's just gratifying to hear Austin finally admit it. Did you say you had a sister?"

Amused, she said "I'm afraid I don't."

"Just my luck." Shaking his head in a woebegone fashion, he crossed the room and poured a brandy. "When is the wedding?"

Elizabeth was about to reply that she didn't know when Austin spoke.

"The day after tomorrow."

Her jaw dropped open and she forcibly snapped it shut.
"The day after
tomorrow? "

Robert sent Austin an arch look. "Your bride-to-be seems a bit, er, surprised by the news. I don't know much about these things, but I believe it is customary to let the lady know when the nuptials will take place."

"I was about to discuss it with her when you barged in."

Mischief sparkled in Robert's eyes. "Really? Is that what you were about to do? It looked more like—"

"Robert." There was no mistaking the ice in that single word.

Robert set down his brandy snifter, then held up his hands. "Say no more. As much as I know you're perishing for me to stay and regale you with tales of my adventures abroad I really must be off. I've barely spoken to Mother since I arrived an hour ago and I promised to meet her in the drawing room before dinner."

"I haven't announced the engagement yet, Robert."

"My lips are sealed." Crossing the room, he took Elizabeth's hand and pressed a kiss to her fingers. An image flashed through her mind and for an instant it was as if she'd looked into his soul. "I look forward to seeing you at dinner," he said his eyes filled with friendly warmth.

"Thank you."

He walked to the door with an easy, unhurried grace, much in contrast to Austin's purposeful strides. Before closing the door behind him, he sent her a broad wink that warmed her cheeks.

She waited for Austin to speak, but he simply stared at the closed door with enough heat to burn a hole through the wood. Finally she said "Your brother is very entertaining."