“Perhaps,” she said after a moment. “And if he does not?”
“You could always marry me. We deal well together, don’t we?” The very idea of claiming her for his own made his body harden and sent the blood rushing through his veins. “I think we’ve already had ample proof of how much better we could deal with one another…my sweet torment.”
Her cheeks went rosy. “I know you find me…attractive, as you cannot help but know I find you, but I hadn’t any notion you were more than flirting. If you have developed…deeper feelings, I certainly did not mean to entice you to it.”
It was the perfect opening to confess that he’d needed no enticement, that he had begun falling top over tail in love with her since the first night they met. But as strongly as the emotions surged in his breast, the words to express them stuck in his throat.
Confessing he truly loved her would irretrievably alter the character of their relationship. If Lynton did surprise him and offer for her, she would at best feel uncomfortable about his declaration and at worst, might pity him. The notion made him writhe inside. Scarcely less revolting was the idea that, in the unlikely event Lynton blessed his suit, knowing his true sentiments might make her feel obligated to marry him.
Nor could he quite summon up the courage to plainly confess his emotions.
“Of course you didn’t try to entice me,” he answered finally. “In addition to finding you most attractive, I admire and respect you. And teasing aside, I have grown fond of you, a feeling that I flatter myself is mutual.”
“It is,” she acknowledged, pressing his hand. “After all, one does form a bond when one is able to reveal one’s true self and work toward a common goal.”
He had to steel himself not to flinch at that. “I know this is rather sudden. Why not pledge a temporary alliance? Keep the matter private between the two of us until after I call on Lynton and gauge his reaction. If he does not eject me from the house and come running to beg for your hand, we can consider then how to proceed. And if you decide you do not wish to continue the agreement, we’ll cancel it with no one the wiser.”
Her expression turned wistful. “You would do that for me?” Then she shook her head. “No, ’twould be an unthinkable imposition.”
“No imposition,” he argued. “Friends help friends. You would do all in your power to assist me, wouldn’t you?”
Absently she nodded, then stared into the distance, her hand still clasped in his. Will resisted the urge to carry her hand to his lips.
“You truly wish to marry me?” she asked abruptly.
Once again, Will took refuge in a safe reply. “You’re an heiress. I must wed one. Why not a lady whom I also happen to trust and esteem, one who shares my love for music—and tumbledown country houses?”
Chuckling, she nodded. “I did say we should be allies. And we do know where we stand with one another. Very well, Lord Tavener. I accept your ‘temporary’ offer.”
Suddenly there didn’t seem to be enough air to breathe. Scarcely believing he’d heard her aright, he struggled to draw in a lungful before saying, “Perhaps you’d better call me Will.”
WHAT HAD SHE DONE? The thought consumed Allegra all during the carriage ride to the house of Mrs. Randall’s friend, Lady Craig. Suddenly feeling shy around Lord Tavener—Will—she’d been relieved when he announced he would escort them there on horseback. Thankfully, since she was too rattled to make meaningful conversation, Mrs. Randall seemed content with the occasional murmurs of reply she managed to interject into that lady’s monologue about dear Amelia and the times they’d shared at school and during their first Season.
Soon enough they arrived. Tavener declined Lady Craig’s offer of refreshment, excusing himself with the need to return to his estate before darkness fell. Allegra felt both grateful and bereft at the idea of him leaving. After bidding everyone farewell, he clasped her hand once more before brushing a kiss over her knuckles.
Despite her gloves, she felt that touch all the way to her core, a fact which unraveled what little composure she’d managed to assemble during the drive. To her relief, Lady Craig did not detain them in the parlor, sending them instead up to their chambers to rest before dinner.
Once safe within the sanctuary of her room, Allegra was finally free to let her mind examine every detail of the walk in the garden that had culminated in that totally unexpected proposal. What should she make of it?
Seating herself before the chamber window, which offered a soothing prospect of the woods and hills beyond, she tried to take stock of her tangled emotions.
There’d been shock, certainly; dismay at having the casual equilibrium of their friendship upset—and a good deal of guilty delight at discovering that Lord Tavener truly did esteem her and had not just been toying with a maid who wasn’t as discreet as she should be.
He’d referred to their mutual fondness, but the level of friendship demonstrated by his offer truly astounded her. He’d displayed his perceptive and caring character before, the night he’d played to distract the crowd, the day he’d come to warn her about Sapphira. But she was awed and humbled at realizing how far he was prepared to go to help her secure what she wanted.
When she considered the possible outcome of this ploy, her stomach plummeted and her knees turned to jelly.
Would Will’s offer shake Rob from his seemingly impenetrable complacency? Shocked to discover she was sought by another, would he rush to declare his undying affection, confess he had loved her all these years, as she had loved him?
It had been a favorite illusion of her youth to imagine Rob riding in on a dashing steed and storming into Papa’s presence to beg for her hand. That girlish dream had faded in recent years, not to be revived until her presentation catapulted the scenario out of fantasy into the realm of the possible.
A coil of fear wound in her stomach at the idea of forcing Rob’s hand. What if he loved her, but was not ready yet to make a declaration? Would Will’s pursuit cause him to back away?
But if he were not ready to claim her now, when would he be? Will was right; better to find out straightaway if in entertaining hopes of a proposal from her childhood hero, she’d merely been spinning castles in the air. She didn’t really wish to wait any longer while she endured the small snubs, the whispering and the gossip of the ton—and the irritating necessity of appearing demure, modest and retiring. Nor did she relish remaining always on the alert lest Sapphira conceive some new plot to discredit her.
At that moment, a knock sounded, announcing the arrival of the maid Lady Craig had sent to help her dress for dinner and ending, for the moment, her ruminations. Though Allegra tried to keep the still-unresolved swirl of thoughts from her mind, as the evening progressed she blessed the fact that Mrs. Randall and Lady Craig were such good friends that they required only a modicum of dinner conversation from her. After that, she was able to take refuge at the pianoforte, playing through a repertoire of selections while they chatted.
Her fingers moving through the familiar pieces by rote, Allegra let herself contemplate again what she meant to do over the next several days. If Rob did beg for her hand, her future was settled. But…what if he did not?
Despite the fact that she was indeed fond of Will, should she really consider his offer? She was more than half convinced he’d tendered it only because, despite his assurances to the contrary, he didn’t expect her to hold him to it. Even if he were seriously considering marrying her, she feared the modest sum Uncle Robert had bequeathed her wouldn’t go very far in refurbishing his estate.
A true friend ought not to bind him to a promise that prevented him from making the much more advantageous match to which his birth and family connections entitled him.
Not until she returned to her bedchamber that night did she allow herself to contemplate the other implications of accepting his suit. Garbed in the thin silk of her night rail, she let herself imagine no longer having to fight her attraction to him, being free to let him kiss her whenever he wi
shed, wherever he wished—being free to kiss him back. Envisioned letting his clever fingers and skilled lips roam from her mouth and shoulders down her torso, to stroke the breasts that now swelled and hardened at the thought of his touch. Visualized him loosening her stays, letting his fingers delve beneath the fabric of her chemise to stroke the naked flesh.
Her breath grew short, her skin sheened with moisture as she considered the feel of his hands as they slid down her naked hips and belly. Then thought of his fingers, his lips trailing lower still, where her flesh now throbbed with anticipation.
Ah, yes, she too understood how much better they might deal with one another.
But as much as the vision of surrendering to his sensual mastery thrilled her, as much as she genuinely liked him, enjoyed the way he engaged her mind and titillated her senses, she knew she needed more than the heady kisses and temporary loyalty of a rogue.
She needed, wanted, the kind of love and devotion Mama had felt for Papa and he for her. She refused to settle for less than an all-consuming passion of the sort that had led Mama to brave social disapproval and ostracization from her family in order to be with the man she adored. Though Lord Tavener had certainly inveigled his way into her affection and senses, Allegra didn’t now feel that way about him. And if one did not love like that immediately, one never would—would one?
The possibility was even less likely on Will’s part. Yes, he needed to marry an heiress; she “intrigued” him and certainly there was sensual fire between them. Nor did she doubt that he would always treat her with courtesy and kindness. But he’d made no promises beyond that.
A rogue who enjoyed pursuing women—who was enjoyed and pursued by them, as she’d witnessed with her own eyes—was hardly likely to give up that satisfying pastime simply because he’d taken to wife a lady he “admired and respected.” Nor would anyone in the ton expect him to.
Slipping a ring on his finger would not be enough to persuade Will to change his ways. Only if he fell totally, hopelessly, irredeemably in love with someone did Allegra see any possibility that his commitment to his lady might be powerful enough to dissuade him from straying.
He’d vouchsafed no such emotion in asking for her hand.
She knew herself well enough to know that she would not be able to look the other way, as well-bred ton wives were supposed to do when their husbands dallied elsewhere. Nor could she bear to watch Will working his charm as he persuaded some other willing woman into his bed.
No, if Rob could not offer her the love she craved, better to live alone the rest of her life than accept Will’s kind offer and subject herself to what she could already foresee would be the acutest of misery.
But even that rational conclusion did not succeed in banishing from her imagination the torrid visions she’d conjured of his hands and mouth on hers. For the rest of the night she tossed and turned, sleeping fitfully and unable to claim the peace of mind finalizing those decisions about her future should have afforded her.
The necessity of taking breakfast, nuncheon, dinner and tea with the ladies the next day did little to settle her. Restless, on edge and hard-put to respond with polite civility to the conversation of the gossiping friends, she was equally unable to engage herself in reading or needlework. Much of that interminable day she spent pacing the library or strolling the garden paths at a pace that left the maid Lady Craig had assigned to her breathless.
She arose the following morning both eager for and dreading the journey. To her annoyance, when Will arrived to escort them home, she felt her face flush and her pulse race as he walked into the room. The grin that broadened his face when, ever perceptive, he noticed her response made her want to both kiss him and slap him.
Their secret agreement heightening the connection between them, she was more conscious than ever of the burning imprint of his fingers as he helped her into the carriage. So ’twas probably for the best that he announced he intended to ride beside the carriage rather than sit within it. At the same time, she was most illogically disgruntled that he’d not chosen to remain near her, employing his teasing wit during the long journey to distract her from fretting over the events to come.
And it was downright silly, while she was on pins and needles with anticipation about eliciting an offer of marriage from another man, to miss his reassuring presence.
Fatigued after the constant chatting of her visit, Mrs. Randall dozed most of the way, leaving Allegra free to brood. Though for the most part, she spent that time playing over and over in her mind the possible scenarios once Rob learned of their trip and Will’s offer, and she did make one other decision about the confrontation to come.
To preserve the secrecy of their bargain, but especially to prevent the possibility that Rob might deal insultingly with Will, she intended to speak with Lynton before Lord Tavener came to present his suit.
Upon their arrival at Upper Brook Street, Tavener declined Mrs. Randall’s invitation to come in, saying he would call on them later. After standing by impatiently while that lady tendered him her effusive thanks and a polite farewell, Allegra contrived to detain him beside the carriage while Hobbs escorted Mrs. Randall in.
“Such a worried expression,” he murmured, patting the hand she’d placed on his arm. “Courage, my sweet!
Lynton’s unlikely to do anything more distressing than read you a severe scold once he discovers I escorted you.”
“’Tis not that. We both know he dislikes you. After all you are doing for me, I should be very distressed if Lynton were to treat you…disrespectfully. Let me first inform him of your intentions. That alone may achieve the effect for which we hope. And if it does not—”
“No,” Will interrupted, frowning. “I am quite capable of handling whatever Lynton might choose to say. The offer will carry more credence if I deliver it myself.”
Aware she had mere seconds to conclude the matter, Allegra shook her head urgently. “I’m sorry, but I’m quite determined that unless you let me do this in my own way, I shall disavow our agreement this very moment.”
Some strong emotion flitted across his face, so quickly she was unable to identify it. But she hadn’t the time to figure it out; already Lizzie was at the entryway, about to descend and escort her in.
“Please, I cannot tarry any longer,” she said. “Promise me you will not approach Lynton until after I’ve spoken with him. Promise!” she urged fiercely.
With Lizzie tripping down the steps, already smiling a greeting, he sighed. “Very well. I cannot like proceeding in so cowardly a manner, as if I were ashamed to approach him. But if you are adamant, I suppose there is nothing for me to do but acquiesce to your wishes.”
Relieved, she squeezed his hand. “Thank you! I will send you word when…when I know how we should proceed.”
As she turned away, he retained her. “Before you go, I want to hear you say my name.”
She looked up into his face, the fierce blue gaze captivating her as always. “Thank you…Will,” she murmured.
“Godspeed, Allegra.” Smiling, he shook his head. “Even your name on my lips is music.” With that, he tipped his hat and walked off to retrieve his horse.
While Lizzie swept her away, Allegra watched him go, excitement and nervousness already setting her stomach roiling and making her legs feel weak. A feeling that intensified when she looked up and realized Rob was watching them from the parlor window, his face grim.
A flutter in her stomach, Allegra mounted the stairs. She’d hoped to wait for just the right moment to approach Rob. Propitious or not, it looked as if that moment was going to be now.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
HAVING ALREADY DETERMINED to get over heavy ground quickly, Allegra was relieved but not surprised when, a short time later, Rob summoned her to the library.
The curt tone of his voice when he bid her enter mirrored the aggrieved disapproval on his face as he motioned her to a chair. He looked, Allegra thought with a sinking heart, much more angry than jealous.
/> Omitting the courtesy of inquiring about her trip, he demanded, “Was that fellow’s presence upon your return an indication that he accompanied you on your journey? If so, you can be sure that had my cousin informed me of that fact, I would never have allowed you to leave London!”
“If by ‘that fellow,’ you mean Lord Tavener, then yes, he did escort us. But if you feel compelled to scold someone, read your peal over me. I’m sure Mrs. Randall is not aware of the depth of your distaste for Lord Tavener.”
“You certainly cannot claim that excuse. Good L—heavens, Allegra, what were you thinking? You cannot tell me you imagined I would favor such an expedition!”
Allowing her no time to reply, he stormed on, “How often must I warn that you cannot expect to attract the attention of worthy suitors if you allow that worthless fribble to hang about? I’ve had several eligible gentlemen inquire about you since the musicale last week, but no man of refinement will wish to pursue a closer association if your name is bandied about as Tavener’s latest flirt!”
She’d hoped to inspire Rob’s jealousy—not give him leave to abuse Will’s character. Her temper flaring at his disparagement of a man who possessed qualities she’d come to appreciate and admire, Allegra said, “You wrong Lord Tavener by assuming he is merely flirting with me.”
Stomach beginning to churn, she continued, “In fact, he intends to call on you to ask for my hand…in marriage,” she added, just in case, in the intensity of his dislike, Rob should assume Tavener sought something else.
Eyes wide with a surprise that rendered him speechless, for a moment Rob merely stared at her. “He had the gall to think he might approach me about marrying you?” he said at last. “Why, the effrontery! As if I were sapskulled enough to throw my money away, putting it within the grasp of that doxy-chasing fortune hunter!”
Once again, Allegra had to rein in a heated reply. “Lord Tavener is a much finer gentleman than you give him credit for,” she replied after a moment, striving to keep her voice even. “Besides, I believe ’tis my money that would be ‘thrown away,’ is it not?”
Rogue's Lady Page 18