Miss Winthorpe's Elopement (21 page)
‘Love?’ she whispered.
He nodded. ‘I love you, Penelope. I cannot help myself. It is not what you wanted, of course. Not peaceful or quiet at all, for neither of those virtues are in my nature. But there it is.’
He loved her. What an amazing idea. She felt the warmth of the words against her heart, growing in her, surrounding her to keep her safe, and heating her blood in a way that was not safe at all, but just as wonderful.
‘And you were faithful to me,’ she said, testing.
‘Strangely enough, yes. I put off my mistress, I forsook my old haunts. There has been no one but you since the day we met. What Tim saw when he spied me with Clarissa was no doing of mine.’
She stepped closer and reached out a hand to him, touching his hair, and trailing her fingers slowly down his cheek. He closed his eyes for a moment, then turned his head to press kisses into her palm, seizing her hand in his so that she could not pull away.
And she felt the familiar thrill of power at the sight of him, cradling her hand as though he feared the loss of her touch. He kissed her knuckles again, and bowed his head to her. ‘My fate is yours to decide, Penny. I will do as you wish in all things. I will go tonight, if you say I must. But I beg you, do not be apart from me, for I fear I shall go mad with the loss of you.’
Fierce joy was rushing through her, and desire mingled with it. And without speaking, she touched him under the chin, urging his lips up to hers and kissing slowly into his open mouth.
His breath trembled for a moment, and then his response was eager, hungry to deepen the kiss.
She pulled away, and he looked up with hope, awaiting her answer, and she looked into his eyes, and saw only herself reflected back.
When she spoke, she was pleased that her voice sounded cool, collected and very much like the ladies of the
ton
that had once beguiled her husband and not at all like she truly was: too far gone with love of him
to ever leave. ‘So you love me, and wish to give me all that I might desire?’
He gave the barest nod, but his eyes sparkled with shared devilment.
She reached to his throat, and undid the knot of his cravat, tugging him up out of his chair. ‘Then, we have much to discuss. But first, you must give me my garter back.’
All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.
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First published in Great Britain 2008
Harlequin Mills & Boon Limited,
Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR
© Christine Merrill 2008
ISBN: 9781408900956