Miss Darcy Falls in Love (28 page)

“Yes,” she responded, but the word was lost against his lips.

Oh
God, such a kiss!

Fire blazed instantly, eradicating the residuals of chill even to the marrow of her bones. It was passionate and hungry, longing and fervency ruling completely in those dizzying initial minutes. In less than a heartbeat, their arms were locked about the other and she was willingly drawn onto his lap until their bodies were pressed together.

Instinct consumed. Potent love and yearning took over. The kiss was driven by mutual desire with the awareness of their surroundings or propriety vanishing. Life depended on their connection, the need to erase the anguish of the past weeks as vital as breathing. Passion and a generous allotment of lust spurred their actions, but primarily it was the beauty in having barriers broken and their love expressed that intoxicated them both.

The wickedly grinning Marchioness of Warrow waved the tray-wielding maid away, gingerly closed the salon door behind her, and leaned against it. For several minutes, she deliberated her next move. Her inclination was to lock the door and instruct every servant in the house to go about their business and forget that two people were alone inside. From what she had briefly observed, it was doubtful Miss Darcy’s health was any longer an issue! Her grandson was doing an admirable job in heating the young woman, and the natural conclusion to their activity was sure to cure any ills besetting her, as the marchioness well knew.

Personally, she had no qualms with breaking rules of morality that said lovemaking should only be within marriage. Unfortunately, most folks did not agree with her liberal attitude. As bursting with happiness as she was for the young couple who had obviously resolved their stupid misconceptions, she knew that no matter how great the pleasure attained if left undisturbed, they would regret it later.

So, after waiting for a span of time deemed long enough to allow certain liberties without crossing irreversible barriers, she cleared her throat, lifted her voice with fabricated instructions, and generally caused a racket the entwined lovers surely could not ignore. She would always assume that her interruption kept the couple undefiled and pure, but she was wrong.

The astounding kiss gradually slowed after the initial furious burst of passion. The glory of this unique intimacy was sustained in stages, growing softer, their lips caressing and exchanging gentle pressure. The wonder of breath on sensitized skin, the thrill of brushing noses together, the tenderness of kissing facial features, and the sweetness of inhaling the natural scent of skin were marvelous exercises.

The moderating in their pace was not due to a declining need or conscious thoughts of propriety, but rather a burning ache to touch tenderly and share the wonder of their emotions.

“I have admittedly been quite dense of late,” Sebastian whispered, pausing to bestow a tiny kiss to her lower lip, “and I do not wish to leap to conclusions, but I assume you are saying yes to my proposal?”

“I said yes but think it was lost against your mouth.”

“You may lose any words against my mouth whenever you wish, dearest Georgiana.”

He felt her cheek flush against his cheek and delighted in the sensation but longed to see the becoming blush. Opening his eyes and withdrawing mere inches, he was overcome by the waves of emotion that poured over him at the sight of her radiant, passion-filled face.

“My God, you are so beautiful, Georgiana! I cannot believe my fortune! Is it true? You said yes? You are mine? You love me?”

“I love you. Yes, again and again, yes! I am yours and you, Sebastian Butler, are mine. Do not forget that part of the bargain.”

“No, I shall certainly not forget.” He smoothed the snarled hair, embedding his fingers into the tangled tresses. “Promise me something else?”

“Anything.”

“Never call me ‘Mr. Butler’ unless you absolutely must. My Christian name, as you speak it, fills me with surpassing joy. I shall never tire…”

He stopped, looked toward the door, and then erupted in chuckles. “I believe my grandmother is alerting us. Do not blush, dearest Georgiana. She highly approves of you and has been trying to tell me for weeks that I was blind and a fool. Whoever said the elderly do not understand the young? Frankly, I am surprised she has not locked the door and left us to our own devices. My grandmother has a flagrant disregard for proper behavior and forgets, at times, that true gentlemen and ladies exist. A kiss and embrace, no matter how passionate, will barely register as worthy of notice to her and expressing our affection is nothing to cause embarrassment. That, of course, is excellent, since I intend to frequently kiss and embrace you, my love, as often as feasible. If you do not mind, that is?”

Georgiana shook her head, laughter bubbling. All through his speech, he had been gently removing her from his lap, settling her back onto the cushions, straightening her skirts, and replacing the fallen quilt over her shoulders. His hands, so deft and artistically adroit, lingered and caressed firmly while spreading fresh shivers through her body.

“Are you still cold?” he asked with a frown, fingering the rapidly drying fabric of her dress.

Her blush deepened but she met his eyes and smiled, cocking her head in amusement. “You are being blind again, Sebastian.”

He knit his brow, confusion lasting for several heartbeats before comprehension dawned. Then the smile that blazed anew was dazzling—and slightly smug—conjuring a fresh web of magic around them that was seconds away from sending them spiraling into another interlude of passionate kisses. But the door opened, shattering the spell along with the entry of Lady Warrow and two maids bearing trays of food and warm beverages.

Sebastian rose smoothly to his feet and bent to clear a spot on the low table.

“Refreshments!” Lady Warrow sang. “Nothing like warm liquids and sweet pastries to drive away a chill, although it looks like my grandson’s efforts have warmed you up nicely, Miss Darcy. You look positively flushed! Very proficient in laying a fire, is he not? And the quilt was a wise move. We must not allow you to relapse, my dear girl. Yes, Stella, pour Miss Darcy a hot cup of tea, lots of sugar and lemon. These rolls are my absolute favorites, as they are thick with honey and plump raisins. The perfect remedy to all ailments.”

She prattled on innocently, seemingly unaware of heightened color to cheeks, ruddy lips, and glazed eyes. The idea of the Marchioness of Warrow knowing of their recent improper conduct was embarrassing for Georgiana, no matter Sebastian’s assurance that the older woman would relish the behavior, so she was calmed by the older woman’s apparent ignorance.

Sebastian was not fooled in the least, knowing his grandmother very well, but he said nothing. The quizzing would come later, and he was fine with that, having no desire to hide his happiness, but for the present he would remain as serene as he could manage. It was best to let Georgiana recuperate and take the lead in announcing their understanding.

“Thank you, my lady. I do indeed feel much better and am plenty warm. I confess to being famished, however, having ran from the house prior to breakfast,” Georgiana said, and then flushed and ducked her head to take a sip of tea before glancing to Sebastian, who looked slightly pained.

Lady Warrow laughed gaily. “Oh, to be so young and impulsive again! Youth allots for such whimsies, Miss Darcy. Sebastian remains distressed, I can see, but vigorous constitutions are made for recklessness and overindulgences. Live, I say, while one can!”

“Miss Darcy has been ill, Grandmother. There is reason to fret.”

“Indeed, but look at her now. Why, she is glowing! The picture of health and happiness!”

Sebastian did look at her, and she looked back. His smile softened, the worry fading in light of her obvious radiance and profuse joy.

The diminutive marchioness sat on the sofa behind Georgiana, arranging her frilly dressing gown and appearing every inch the aristocrat she was even in bedroom attire. Serving herself some tea with four spoons of sugar, she continued in her breathy voice, “I, of course, am vastly experienced in foolhardy behavior. The frivolities of my juvenescence are the stuff of legends! As time passes, my dear, I shall entertain you with my youthful exploits.”

“Youthful? Did I not just one month ago have to save you from the claws of Duc de Fallais’s mistress who did not appreciate your brazen flirting with her
amour
?” As always when speaking to his grandmother, Sebastian’s tone was tender and imbued with amusement.

Lady Warrow snorted indelicately, waving a hand breezily. “Competition is a good thing. Young upstarts such as Mademoiselle Ablis need to be reminded of the lure of expertise to the male population.” Her mouth was prim as she sipped her tea, but the twinkle in her eye and saucy wink toward Georgiana left no question as to the “expertise” she referred to. And, despite the logic to the contrary, Georgiana had no doubt that Lady Warrow’s aura of lush sensuality and zeal, along with a voluptuous body and stunning beauty that defied the aging process, meant she could likely make good on her threat to lure.

“The point is,” the marchioness continued, “audacious recklessness is healthy for the soul, keeps one alive, and provides the best tales to tell the grandchildren. Sebastian pretends to find me outrageous, but he loves my stories.”

“I have been taught it is polite to pacify one’s elders, a duty to bear as a gentleman and selfless kinsman.”

“See how he delights in teasing me? Ungrateful child!” she declared with theatrical suffering. “Years of professed mortification, yet now he creates dramas of his own! Manfully enduring romantic torment, running hither and yon, rescuing the fair maiden from inferior suitors, and bursting through the door with a fainting damsel in his arms. Where did he learn such colorful escapades if not from me?”

“I read books,” he answered dryly.

“You two have a story to tell, I daresay. Of course, it is none of this old woman’s business. Probably too ancient to remember such blazing emotions,” she said sighing dramatically and ignoring Sebastian’s sniff. “I may die at any moment and never hear the end of the tale.”

“Old, ha! You shall be dancing rings around me at my own wedding, Grandmother. I am sure of it.”

“And when might you be having a wedding?” Her brows rose in a precise imitation of guileless questioning, but Sebastian merely chuckled and shook his head.

“Lady Warrow,” Georgiana spoke, her voice dulcet and hesitant, “there is a story, as you surmise. Not always happy but replete with angst, drama, and foolishness. I fear I have behaved badly and caused your grandson a great deal of grief.”

“No, Georgiana, please do not take it upon yourself!” Sebastian protested.

“But I must.” She turned to the marchioness, leaning toward where she regally sat and impulsive clasping on to her tiny hands. “I know how dear Mr. Butler is to you, and thus must beg your forgiveness and understanding. Please believe that it was innocently wrought and that I now intend to do all in my power to reverse the damage.”

Lady Warrow chuckled, shaking her head. “Oh, my dear child. Have you not been listening? What is life or love without some heartache and sensationalism attached? Makes a dreary existence far more agreeable and appreciated. I would worry more if you two did not have an intriguing, suspenseful tale to tell! How bland would that be?”

“Well, I suppose we shall not disappoint then. I am not sure about being sensational, but there has been a fair portion of suspense. Fortunately, like all good stories, it has a happy ending.” She paused, extending one hand to Sebastian, who instantly clasped it tightly.

“Grandmother, Miss Darcy has confirmed the reciprocation of my love and has agreed to become my wife.”

“Well, about time! I was beginning to believe Lady Matlock and I would need to bash your heads together to restore some sense.” Lady Warrow laughed happily, tugging Georgiana up onto the cushioned seat next to her. “I am thrilled for you both. I knew you were perfect for each other from the start! You could not do better than my grandson, and I am pleased to see you finally realized that, my dear. However, Sebastian is the luckiest of men to have found you.”

“Be sure, I am abundantly aware of the fact, Grandmother. My great fortune is immense, and I know I am receiving the higher prize within this arrangement.”

“I disagree most vehemently!” Georgiana declared with a laugh. “It is I who have been rewarded supremely.”

“Very good,” Lady Warrow interrupted with a sage nod. “Always best to start a relationship with an argument. Maintains the spice and equality. Now, Georgiana, do not forget that I am quite excellent at planning weddings. I am a close, personal friend of the Archbishop of Canterbury, so a special license would be no problem. Any cathedral in the country can be arranged if you wish.”

“Grandmother, please! We have been betrothed less than an hour, and even that is precarious until I speak with Miss Darcy’s guardian and then Mr. Darcy. We have yet to discuss our wishes or even think of wedding details!”

“Oh, Sebastian! How many sisters do you have? Have you not learned that young ladies begin planning their weddings from the schoolroom?”

A knock at the door halted Sebastian’s retort. Lady Warrow continued to chuckle, Georgiana smiling at Sebastian but shaking her head slightly in the negative.

“Miss Darcy’s carriage has arrived, milady,” the butler announced with a bow.