Suzi Love (41 page)

He helped her to her feet and led her along the corridor to her room. Becca felt safe and secure, warmed by his attentions. But still, a piece of the puzzle eluded her. What did he mean? What more did he want her to reveal?

She’d faced not just one gun tonight, but three. She didn’t know if she had enough bravery left inside her to expose her raw emotions to Cayle. But when he locked the door and turned to her, he was wearing his heart on his sleeve for her to see. He loved her.

It was written across his face as plain as day. Her own heart flipped over in her chest. Her breath caught. Everything she’d always wanted may still happen. She wanted it so badly.

• • •

Cayle stood with his back to the door and stared at Becca in awe. Not for his Becca had there been any faint-hearted vapours when she was kidnapped and held at gunpoint. No. She’d done what she always did. Stood strong in the face of adversity. And thank God for her stubborn will. It had kept her alive, brought her back to him. She slipped the wrapper off her shoulders to reveal an old-fashioned nightgown. There was nothing seductive about such a garment, yet the sensual picture she presented mesmerised him.

The tight band of pain around his chest finally loosened and allowed him to draw his first liberated breath since coming upon her at the cottage. Even as he’d stepped into the clearing to face Lady Hetherington and her drawn pistol, from the corner of his eye he’d watched Becca. Watched for any sign of injury whilst the angst of thinking her harmed was unimaginably painful. The unbearable weight of the last traumatic weeks dropped from his shoulders, leaving him lighthearted as he’d not allowed himself to be for so long. In his relief, he felt almost dizzy, though, like Becca’s knight of old, he felt invincible.

With her beside him, they could conquer all foes, solve family problems, save the downtrodden of their world and still have time enough for loving. The sort of loving that kept them together for the rest of their lives. As husband and wife. Now, he just needed to convince stubborn, freckle-faced Lady Rebecca of that.

“Cayle, you asked me once if I’d marry you.”

Hardly daring to breathe, he bit into his bottom lip as joy radiated through him. Maybe he wouldn’t have to abduct her, run her off to Gretna Green after all. He’d been prepared to do anything to secure her, to make her his. Even if it had meant an elopement and another scandal. All he could think about was keeping her safely with him, forever. Never again, could he remain at arm’s length and he well knew it. He needed her, desperately. In addition, he reverently hoped that she’d realised how much she also needed him.

“I do remember,” he agreed, striving for a casual air. “And I asked more than once.”

Inside, his nerves were strung tighter than a bow. He wanted her, yet, he also wanted to know that she came to him of her own free will and not because she’d been forced into it to ensure her safety. Even little teeth came out to worry her lower lip, a sure sign his beautiful Becca was nervous. How well he knew her. How he wanted to ease any worry from her mind. Despite that, he forced himself to remain perfectly still by digging his fingers into his thighs.

“I … I thought — ”

“Yes?”

“I thought perhaps we could come to some arrangement.”

“An arrangement?”

She gave a little nod and swallowed, visibly. “Yes.”

“I offered you an arrangement once before, I recall, and you turned me down. Rather insultingly.”

At this instant, she looked truly troubled. He almost gave in and let his instincts take over. All he wanted was this wonderful and enigmatic woman in his arms, warm and safe. Yet for her, pride was all that’d kept her going for many long months of being gossiped about, pointed at and ridiculed. She’d been betrothed to a cad and he’d dumped Becca and married a richer woman. But Becca, proud and defiant, had held her head high for and pretended it was of no consequence. But the rejection had wounded her and diminished her self esteem and he never wanted to suffer again.

“As the Duke of Sherwyn you still need a — ”

“Wife?”

“Yes, a wife.”

“I do, indeed.”

“And I’ve realised that I can’t continue doing what I’ve been doing, with my family’s funds, even with the society, without more support. Influential support. Someone who understands the problem but will allow me to continue as I’ve been without restraint, without administering tight controls.”

“You’re talking about male support.”

“Yes.”

“Possibly from a husband.”

“Yes.”

“But if you can’t bring yourself to voice the word, wife, how will you ever be able to become one in reality?”

“I suppose I could … I could learn, if I had to.”

“It’d need to be a strong gentleman who’d allow his wife to put herself into those situations, the sort in which you habitually become embroiled.”

“But you could do it.”

“Could I?” he queried, still casually.

“You’re certainly strong enough.”

“Ah! You’re speaking of physical strength.”

“No. Well, yes. Partly.”

“Partly?” One pretty, little foot peeped out from under her skirt to stomp an impatient patter on the rug. He smothered his grin.

“I’m talking of an inner strength. The sort only a gentleman who knows his own place in the world would have.”

“And you think I have this, um,” he waved his hand vaguely, “this inner something.”

“Cayle, you’re the strongest man I know. Your family knows they can depend on you no matter what.”

“And that’s important to you, because your family has always depended on your strength too?”

“Well, yes, there’s that. I suppose I’m accustomed to being involved, with a family, so any man I, any man who — ”

“Who?”

“Who’d be prepared to take me on, as a wife, would have to be not only strong — ”

“And patient.”

Her foot tapped out her irritated rhythm even harder on the carpet and he could almost see steam expel as she dithered around the subject, trying not to be the first to voice the solution that was glaringly obvious to them both.

“Enough, damn you. You’re enjoying this moment, aren’t you?”

Grinning widely, he agreed. “Immensely.”

“What more do you want me to do? Admit that I can’t do it without you?”

“That would be a nice place to start.”

She actually gritted her teeth. God, he loved her spirit. So determined, yet so giving.

“I can’t do it alone anymore.” She stomped her foot down hard in emphasis. “Any of it. The society. The investments. A woman can’t do it all alone.”

“So you’re saying you need me for my financial involvement?

“Financial, plus other involvements.”

“You’ll need to spell it out for me. Which other involvements would they be?”

“Even my family has benefited from being seen with yours.”

Now he laughed aloud. “You, my little prevaricator, are dodging the larger issue.”

“And you’re going to make me say it first, aren’t you?”

Pretending patience he didn’t feel, he nodded. “I am.”

He could hardly suck air into his lungs as he waited edgily for her to come to the inevitable conclusion. She needed him. Not just any man, but him, Cayle St. Martin.

However, she’d swallowed her pride enough for one day. One of the things he loved about her was her ability to rationalise any situation clearly and come to a conclusion that benefited not only her, but also those around her. It was time he told her. Time that he let her keep her pride intact.

Taking a step closer he bent his head to hers, adoring the way her breath hitched whenever he pressed near her. He nuzzled her neck, luxuriating in the scent of her and the fact that he now had the right, finally, to claim her as his.

“Becca, sweetheart, I love you.”

“You don’t need to say that, you know. I know what I am. I recognise my good qualities and my limitations, but if you could overlook those limitations somewhat … ”

God, she still couldn’t see how wondrous she was. How she made the world a better place. How his world lit up when she was in it. He needed to show her. “Becca.”

“Yes?”

“Would you stop thinking and talking and listen to me. Because I do love you. As Laura would say, I love you madly and gladly and passionately. And I want you more than anything I’ve ever wanted.”

“Truly?” Her words came out on a little gasp.

“Truly! And now, if you can keep quiet for long enough, I want to hold you and kiss you and make love to you. Because I can’t live without you in my life. I will not live like that ever again.” Before she could speak again, he took advantage of her open mouth to press his to it, kissing her hard and fast. Followed by long and slow. And then, he settled in and did it all over again.

“Laura was right.”

With a groan that turned into a laugh, he pulled back. It seemed that not even kissing Becca would keep her quiet this time. “What was Laura right about?”

“She said that when you love someone, your knees tremble when you kiss them.”

“And did your knees tremble?”

“They shook. Amazingly so.”

“So should I take this to mean that you love me?”

“Oh, heavens yes!”

“Well perhaps this would be a good time for you to tell me.

“Would it?”

“Mmm. Before I go quietly mad from the waiting.”

She finally stopped speaking long enough to stretch up on her dainty slippers to run enough kisses across his cheeks and mouth that he ceased to breathe. The sheer force of emotion in him swelled his chest until he literally couldn’t find room to put air into his lungs. And then, then she spoke. If he hadn’t loved her before, after he watched the way her eyes ignited with the burning passion she seemed to have reserved just for him, he’d have toppled head over heels.

“I love you to distraction. I love the way you let me stand beside you as an equal. I love the way you let me be myself. And you seem to love me regardless of who I am or the impetuous things I do.”

“I love you because of those very things.”

Green eyes twinkled up at him. Red hair flew in complete disorder around her head and shoulders. Twelve freckles shone like beacons, a testament to the fact that she was always too preoccupied with mathematics and problem solving to remember her bonnet. She was so beautiful, his Becca. So very beautiful and he’d happily devote a lifetime to convincing her of that fact. But, she had an evil glint in her eyes now. “And most of all — ”

“Yes?”

“Most of all, I love that you might come in handy on long and otherwise boring winter nights, when I’m too tired to reconcile the accounts. For performing all those extremely naughty tricks you do in a bedchamber.”

His extremely busy, often preoccupied genius thought he might, only might, come in handy to relieve her boredom on a cold night. Should he be insulted? Or laugh?

Deciding that being around Becca meant ignoring what other men might think a blight to their manliness, he hugged her tightly against him, feeling her absorbing his strength and yet at the same time making him stronger. “In that case, I think we can come to a mutually suitable arrangement.”

“Cayle?” He chuckled, resigned to never getting another minute’s peace in his life. “Yes, little chatterbox?”

“This arrangement. I don’t think I’d feel comfortable being a mistress any longer. Not that I didn’t enjoy the nights we spent together, in bed, in our affair, but if we’re to be partners in trade and commerce, I think we may need a more formal arrangement.”

“I suppose, if you insist,” he muttered, while inwardly rejoicing. “Next Saturday, we’ll be married.”

“Next Saturday? Oh, no, no, I certainly don’t think I shall have time next Saturday. I’ve the monthly meeting for the prostitute’s reform committee, to discuss the new bill, and Mr. Brown has news about that scoundrel Miss Featherstone is betrothed to — ”

“Becca!” He was losing patience. “Is this how you intend our marriage to proceed?”

One dainty finger tapped her teeth as she pondered the question. “Mmm. Most probably. Is that going to be a problem for you? Because if it is, I could probably find some other gentleman to marry. One who’d be more considerate.”

“Some poor unfortunate fool who’d do your bidding, you mean. Jump when you say jump?”

With a huge grin she teased, “When you put it that way, it does have merits compared to being with someone like you who is arrogant — ”

“Arrogant?”

“And controlling — ”

“Enough insults! A man’s ego can only take so much battering. You’re marrying me, no one else. Do you understand?”

“Yes, my lord, and master.” Her eyelashes fluttered.

Eyeing her suspiciously, he muttered, “I trust you even less when you’re docile. Are you up to something?”

“Me? Whatever do you mean, Your Grace?”

“I mean that you think you can outwit me every day of the week. However, I’ll not allow that to happen. Are we clear on that?”

Grinning up at him, she feigned humility. “Certainly, my darling.”

A dainty hand walked up and down his sleeve and she fluttered her eyes at him. Again. Throwing back his head, he laughed long and loud.

“Becca, you’re a minx. I doubt I’ll ever win an argument with you.”

“But you’re so … intelligent and strong and — ”

Cayle didn’t let Becca finish her embarrassing and overdone litany of his merits. Well, not precisely then anyway. At that moment, he stopped her speaking by taking matters into his own hands.

He picked her up over one shoulder and threw her onto the bed. And kept her occupied there all night.

Martin House

Mayfair, London

Taking the steps of his house two at a time, the Duke of Sherwyn rushed past his astounded butler, who stood to attention beside the open front door. The ducal carriage had just discharged them after the long journey back from the Hetherington estate and Cayle was impatient to be alone with his betrothed.

“My soon-to-be-duchess, and I don’t wish to be disturbed, Jenner. Under any circumstances. Do you understand?”

For the first time that Cayle had ever seen, Jenner opened his mouth, threw back his head and laughed. His ageless face creased under the unaccustomed strain. Several heads popped out from around other doors. Servants, curious as to why a normally proper duke and a normally reserved butler were carrying on in such a scandalous manner in the vestibule.