by Julia Quinn
After several moments of enjoying the warmth of his arms, Victoria pulled just far enough away to ask, “Were you serious about getting married today?”
“Absolutely.”
“But that's impossible. We have to post banns.”
He smiled wickedly. “I procured a special license.”
“You did?” She gaped at him. “When?”
“Over a week ago.”
“A bit prematurely certain of yourself, don't you think?”
“It all worked out in the end, didn't it?”
Victoria tried to adopt a suspicious expression, but she couldn't do anything about the laughter in her eyes. “I think, my lord, that some might deem you an overbearing ass for this type of behavior.”
“An overbearing ass, or a really overbearing ass? I should like to know, as the welfare of my skull depends upon it.”
Victoria melted into a pool of giggles. “Do you know, Robert, but I think that I might actually like being married to you.”
“Does that mean you forgive me for abducting you?”
“Not just yet.”
“Really?”
“Yes, I shall have to withhold forgiveness until I have milked the situation for all it is worth.”
This time it was Robert's turn to explode with laughter. While he was catching his breath, Victoria poked him in the shoulder and said, “We cannot marry today in any case.”
“And why is that?”
“It is well past noon. A proper marriage must take place in the morning.”
“A silly rule.”
“My father always abided by it,” she said. “I know, for I was always forced to pound away at the organ at every wedding at which he officiated.”
“I didn't know we had an organ at our village vicarage.”
“We didn't. This was in Leeds. And I believe you're changing the subject.”
“No,” he said, nuzzling her neck. “Merely a temporary digression. As for morning weddings, I believe that the early hour is required only for conventional marriages. With a special license we can do whatever we please.”
“I suppose I should be thankful that I am cleaving unto a man who is so supremely organized.”
Robert let out a happy sigh. “I shall take my compliments in any form you wish.”
“Do you really want to get married this evening?”
“I can think of nothing else as appealing. We've no playing cards, and I have already read most of the books in the library.”
She swatted him with a pillow. “I am serious.”
It took only a second for him to pin her down onto her back, his weight flattening her bare breasts, his eyes gleaming into hers. “So am I,” he said.
She caught her breath, then smiled. “I believe you.”
“Besides, if I do not marry you tonight, I shall have to ravish you again.”
“Is that so?”
“Indeed. But you are a good churchgoing woman, daughter of a vicar no less, so I know that you will want to keep your premarriage ravishments to a minimum.” His expression turned suddenly serious. “I always swore that when I made love to you, it would be as man and wife.”
She grinned and touched his cheek. “Well, we ruined that vow.”
“Once, I suppose, is not so very great a sin,” he said, turning his attention to her earlobe. “But I should like to get my ring on your finger before I am overcome with lust again.”
“You're not overcome now?” she asked with a disbelieving expression. It wasn't very difficult to feel the imprint of his desire on her hip.
Robert laughed against the underside of her chin. “I'm going to enjoy being married to you, Torie.”
“I-I suppose that is a good reason to propose,” she gasped, trying to ignore the spasms of pleasure he was stirring within her.
“Mmmm, yes.” He moved back to her mouth and kissed her deeply, teasing her until she was quivering beneath him. Then, abruptly, he rolled off her and onto his feet. “I'd better stop now,” he said with a wicked smile, “for in another moment I won't be able to.”
Victoria wanted to shout out that she didn't care, but she contented herself with tossing a pillow at him instead.
“I wouldn't want to compromise you any further,” Robert continued, easily dodging her attack. “And I wanted to remind you of”—he leaned down and dropped one last kiss on her mouth—”this. Just in case you were having second thoughts.”
“I'm having them now” she retorted, certain that she looked just as frustrated as she felt.
Robert laughed as he crossed the room. “I'm sure you'll be pleased to know that my little reminder has left me feeling every bit as uncomfortable and unfulfilled as you.”
“I'm perfectly fine,” she said, lifting her chin in the air.
“Yes, of course you are,” he teased as he reached into the traveling case he'd left carelessly on the desk. Victoria was about to let out a stinging retort when his countenance turned quite black and he let out a loud “Damn!”
“Is something amiss?” she asked.
His head whipped up to face her. “Have you been in this bag?”
“No, of course not, I wouldn't—” She colored as she remembered that she'd been looking through his things. “Well, actually I would snoop in your belongings, I admit, but I found the tub before I found your case.”
“I don't care if you want to pull up the floorboards,” he said distractedly. “What's mine is yours. But I had important papers in this case, and now they're gone.”
A unexpected bubble of mirth welled up in Victoria's chest. “What sort of papers?” she asked carefully.
Robert let out another low curse before replying, “The special license.”
Victoria had a feeling that it wasn't an appropriate time to burst into loud and raucous laughter, but she did so anyway.
Robert planted his hands on his hips as he turned to face her. “This is not funny.”
“I'm sorry,” she said, not sounding particularly apologetic. “It is simply that you— Oh, my!” Victoria collapsed into another round of giggles.
“It must be in my other case,” Robert said. “Damn.”
Victoria wiped her eyes. “Where is your other case?”
“London.”
“I see.”
“We'll have to leave within the hour.”
Her mouth fell open. “Leave for London? Right now?”
“I don't see any other option.”
“But how will we get there?”
“MacDougal stabled my carriage just a quarter mile away before leaving for London. The local squire has always been most accommodating. I'm sure he can spare a groom to drive us back.”
“You let me believe that I was stranded here?” she yelled.
“You never asked,” he said, shrugging. “Now then, I suggest you get dressed. As delightful as you are in your current attire, there is a slight chill in the air.”
She held the bed sheets tightly against her body. “My dress is in the next room.”
“You're going to be modest now?”
Her mouth twisted into an offended frown. “I'm sorry I can't be as cosmopolitan as you are, Robert. I don't have much experience with this sort of thing.”
He smiled and dropped an affectionate kiss on her forehead. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry. You're simply too much fun to tease. I'll get your dress right away. And,” he added as he opened the door, “I shall leave you to your privacy to change into it.”
Thirty minutes later they were on their way to London. Robert was having a difficult time keeping himself from breaking out into song. On his way back from retrieving the carriage, he had actually belted out a rather off-key version of Handel's “Hallelujah Chorus.” He probably would have finished the piece if the horses hadn't whinnied in aural agony. Robert quieted down, thinking it best not to offer similar torture to his betrothed's ears—his betrothed! He loved saying that. Hell, he loved just thinking it.
Still, his happiness was so great t
hat he couldn't quite keep it all inside, and thus, every so often he forgot himself, and then he'd realize he was whistling.
“I didn't know you liked to whistle,” Victoria said after about the fifth time he caught himself.
“I certainly cannot sing,” he replied. “So I whistle.”
“I don't think I've heard you whistling in—” She paused and thought. “I can't remember the last time.”
He grinned. “I haven't been this happy in a great many years.”
A pause, and then she said, “Oh.” She looked ridiculously pleased, and Robert felt ridiculously pleased that she looked that way. He whistled atonally for another few minutes, and then he looked up and said, “Do you realize how wonderful it is to feel spontaneous again?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“When I first met you, we used to run through the woods at midnight. We were wild and carefree.”
“It was lovely,” Victoria said softly.
“But now…Well, you know how ordered my life is. I am, as you like to say, the most organized man in Britain. I always have a plan, and I always follow it. It feels quite nice to do something spontaneous again.”
“You abducted me,” Victoria pointed out. “That was spontaneous.”
“Not at all,” he replied, waving away her comment. “I planned that quite carefully, I assure you.”
“Not carefully enough to feed us,” she responded just a touch acerbically.
“Ah, yes, the food,” he mused. “A small oversight.”
“It didn't seem small at the time,” she muttered.
“You didn't perish of hunger, did you?”
She swatted him playfully on the shoulder. “And you forgot the special license. When one considers the fact that the entire purpose of the abduction was to marry me, that constitutes a large gap in the plan, indeed.”
“I didn't forget to plan for the special license. I just forgot to bring it. I certainly meant to.”
Victoria peered out the window. Twilight hung in the air, as it would for several hours. They would not make it to London that evening, but they would get more than halfway there. “Actually,” she said, “I'm rather glad you forgot the license.”
“You want to put off the inevitable as long as possible, I gather?” he said. He was clearly teasing, but Victoria sensed that her answer was important to him.
“Not at all,” she replied. “Once I make a decision I like to carry it out immediately. It's just that it is nice to see you do something wrong every now and then.”
“Excuse me?”
She shrugged. “You're nearly perfect, you know.”
“Why doesn't that sound like a compliment? And more importantly, if I'm so damned perfect why has it taken me so long to convince you to marry me?”
“It's because you're perfect,” she said with a sly smile. “It can grow annoying. Why should I do anything if you're going to do it better?”
He grinned devilishly and pulled her against him. “I can think of many things that you do better.”
“Oh, really?” she murmured, trying not to get too aroused by the way his hand was stroking her hip.
“Mmm. You kiss better.” To prove his point, he let his lips drift down onto hers.
“You taught me.”
“You look much better without any clothes on.”
She blushed, but she was growing comfortable enough with him that she dared to say, “That is a matter of opinion.”
He pulled back with a loud sigh. “Very well. You sew better.”
She blinked. “You're right.”
“And you certainly know more about children,” he added. “When we are parents I shall constantly have to defer to your better judgment. I'm liable to launch into a lecture on Newton's three laws of motion before they're out of the cradle. Most inappropriate. You'll have to teach me all the nursery rhymes.”
Victoria's heart soared at his words. Her brief life as a seamstress had shown her the joy of being able to make important decisions for herself. More than anything she was afraid that marriage would mean she would lose all of this. But now Robert was telling her that he valued her judgment.
“And you have a bigger heart,” he said, touching her cheek. “I often get swept up in myself. You always notice the needs of others first. It's a rare and lovely gift.”
“Oh, Robert.” She leaned toward him, eager for the warmth of his arms. But before she reached him, the carriage hit a deep rut in the road, and she slipped.
“Oh!” she called out—in surprise.
“Aargh!” Robert grunted—in pain.
“Oh dear, oh dear,” Victoria said, her words rushed. “What is wrong?”
“Your elbow,” he gasped.
“What? Oh, I'm sorry—” The carriage jolted again, and her elbow slid deeper into his midsection. Or at least she thought it was his midsection.
“Please…move…it…NOW!”
Victoria scrambled and managed to disentangle her limbs from his. “I'm so sorry,” she repeated. Then she looked at him more closely. He was doubled over, and even in the dim light she could tell that his skin looked quite green. “Robert?” she asked in a hesitant voice, “are you going to be all right?”
“Not for several minutes.”
She watched him for a few seconds and then ventured, “Did I hit you in the stomach? I assure you it was an accident.”
He remained hunched over as he said, “It's a male sort of pain, Victoria.”
“Ohhhh,” she breathed. “I had no idea.”
“I wouldn't have expected you to,” he muttered.
Another minute went by, and then Victoria suddenly got a horrible thought. “This isn't permanent, is it?”
He shook his head. “Don't make me laugh. Please.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Stop saying you're sorry.”
“But I am.”
“Cold, hunger, and then mortal injury,” Robert said under his breath. “Was ever a man as plagued as I?”
Victoria didn't see any reason to reply. She kept her gaze scrupulously on the window, watching as Kent rolled by. There was no sound out of Robert for at least ten minutes, and then, just when she was certain he must have fallen asleep, she felt a tap on her shoulder. “Yes?” she said, turning around.
He was smiling. “I'm feeling better now.”
“Oh. Well, I'm so happy for you,” she replied, not really certain what type of comment passed for appropriate in this situation.
Robert leaned closer, a hungry look in his eyes. “No, I meant that I'm feeling much better.”
Victoria wished he'd stop speaking so cryptically. “Well, then, she said, “I'm very happy for you.”
“I'm not certain you understand,” he murmured.
Victoria wanted to say that she was certain she didn't understand, but before she could get a word out, Robert had yanked her legs onto the seat, and she was lying on her back. She gasped his name, but he silenced her with a kiss.
“I'm much improved,” he said against her mouth. “Very”—kiss—“very”—kiss—“ much improved.” He raised his head and gifted her with the slowest and most languorous of smiles. “Would you care for a demonstration?”
Chapter 21
Here?” Victoria croaked. “In the carriage?”“Why not?”
“Because…Because…It's indecent!” She tried to pull herself away, then muttered, “It must be.”
Robert lifted his head a fraction of an inch. His blue eyes twinkled mischievously. “Is it? I don't recall your father ever delivering a sermon on the topic.”
“Robert, I am certain that this is most irregular.”
“Of course it is,” he said, nuzzling the underside of her chin. She was soft and warm and still smelled like his sandalwood soap. “Normally I would not indulge here in the carriage, but I did want to set your mind at rest.”
“Oh, so this is for my benefit?”
“You were so concerned about possible permanent effects of my injury�
�”
“Oh, no,” she said, trying to catch her breath. “I am confident of your recovery, I assure you.”
“Ah, but I want to make certain you have no lingering doubts.” His hands wrapped around her ankles and began to slide up her legs, leaving twin trails of fire that burned right through her stockings.
“None, I assure you.”
“Shhh, just kiss me.” He nibbled at her lips, his hands sliding up and over the soft curve of her hips. Then he rounded them behind her, cupping her soft backside.
“I thought—” She cleared her throat. “I thought you didn't want to do this again until we were married.”
“That,” he said, moving to the corner of her mouth, “was when I still thought we could be married this evening. I have discovered that there is a time and a place for scruples.”
“And this isn't one of them?”
“Most definitely not.” He found the bare skin of her upper thighs and squeezed, eliciting a gasp of delight. He groaned, loving the sounds of her desire. Nothing had the power to inflame his passion quite so much as the sights and sounds of her pleasure. He felt her arching beneath him, and his hands moved to her back, where they furiously worked at her buttons. He needed her…God, he needed her now.
He pushed down the bodice of her gown. She was still wearing the blue nightdress as a chemise. Too impatient to unfasten that as well, he instead captured her breast with his mouth, dampening the fabric around her peaking nipple with his tongue.
Victoria was thrashing beneath him, incoherent mumblings escaping her lips. He lifted his head for a moment to look at her. Her sable hair was wild and free on the bench cushions, and her dark blue eyes were nearly black with desire. Robert's throat filled with an incomprehensible choking sensation, and he was overcome by a feeling so strong that he couldn't possibly contain it. “I love you,” he whispered. “I will always love you.”
He saw her inner struggle and knew she wanted to say it, too. But whatever was holding her back still had a grip on her heart, and she couldn't. He didn't care; he knew she'd eventually come to understand her love for him. But he couldn't bear to see her so torn, so he pressed a gentle finger against her lips. “Don't speak,” he whispered. “We don't need words right now.”