by Burke, Darcy
Findon took her hand and curled it around his arm. It was thin and weak, and as they made their way outside, he actually leaned on her for support. She worried about their descent into the garden. What if he fell? Would she be able to untangle herself from him before she tumbled along with him?
It seemed a metaphor for the life stretching before her: shackled to this man who would take her down along with him.
Somehow, they made it down the steps into the garden. Lanterns flickered near the house, but the outer corners were quite dark.
“We should go over there,” Findon said with a leer as he pointed toward the back of the garden.
“We can’t be gone long,” Penelope said.
“Of course we can. We’re as good as wed.” Findon pulled her along the path into the shadows.
Penelope tried to snatch her hand away and go back to the house. “But we aren’t yet.”
The earl gripped her hand tightly, displaying a strength she didn’t realize he possessed. His dark eyes glimmered in the scant pale light that managed to make its way this far from the house. “No one’s going to care if I take what’s mine out here. I can kiss you or touch you or toss up your skirts and bend you over a shrubbery if I want.” He laughed.
“You’re not going to do any of that.” Hugh had stepped from the darkness behind Findon, and now gripped the back of the earl’s neck. He tugged the man away from Penelope. “Apologize to her for speaking in that manner. And for threatening her.” Hugh’s voice was a low growl.
Findon glared up at Hugh. “I’ll do no such thing. What are you about, Tarleton? This is none of your affair. The whore’s to be my wife—” Further speech was stopped by Hugh’s fist as he drove it into Findon’s gut.
“Don’t speak of her like that.” Hugh held Findon up by the back of his coat as he crumpled.
“For Christ’s sake.” A new voice broke through the darkness, and in a whir of bodies, someone hit Findon over the head. The earl slumped to the ground.
Penelope blinked as she tried to make out the new arrivals. It was Joseph and a pair of companions. Rather, accomplices. Whatever they were, she was most grateful to see them.
“This is not what I’d intended,” Hugh said, frowning. He looked toward the house. “We don’t have much time.” He moved in front of her and took her hand. “Penelope, will you marry me?”
She could scarcely believe what had just happened, let alone what was happening now. Had he asked her to marry him? “You want me to be your wife?”
His lips spread in a bone-melting smile. “More than anything.”
Happiness rushed through her and made her knees weak. She clutched at his arm. “Yes.” She shook her head. “I can’t. I’d never be allowed.” She glanced down at the earl. “Is there a chance he’s dead?”
Joseph leaned down and pushed at Findon. “Doesn’t look like it. Do ye want me to kill ’im?”
“No,” she and Hugh answered in unison. Findon was a horrid ass, but she didn’t wish him dead.
“We didn’t come here to commit murder,” Hugh said darkly.
Joseph brushed his hands together and looked toward Hugh and Penelope. “I suppose. We did come here to kidnap her. Finally.” He sounded rather gleeful. “Let us be on our way, then.”
Penelope looked up at Hugh in shock. “You came here to kidnap me?”
“If it became necessary.” He flattened his lips together. “I do believe it’s now necessary—if you want to marry me. We’ll leave right now, and tomorrow, we’ll wed.”
“Tomorrow?” Oh, how she wanted that! She felt as if she’d entered a dream. It couldn’t be real.
“You are of age, aren’t you?” Hugh asked with a thread of anxiety since he’d already procured the license and had attested to her being of age.
“Yes,” she assured him, touching his arm. “I celebrated my twenty-first birthday in April.”
Findon groaned.
“We should tie ’im up and hide ’im somewhere,” one of Joseph’s companions suggested.
“I wish we could,” Hugh said, frowning. “But I don’t want to take the time. Someone could come from the house at any moment.” He looked to Penelope. “Ready?”
If she stayed, she’d be forced to marry the earl. Her parents would never allow her to wed Hugh, no matter how much she loved him. Oh, how she loved him. There was only one choice to make.
She looked from Hugh to Joseph and back to Hugh again. “Which one of you is going to put a sack over my head?”
Chapter 13
“Are you terribly disappointed we didn’t bring a sack?” Hugh asked as he helped her into the hack he’d arranged to have waiting for them down the street. He climbed in and sat beside her, and they were shortly on their way.
She folded back the hood of the oversized cloak Joseph had brought to disguise her. “No, this is much better. You were well prepared. How did you know I’d go with you?”
“I didn’t, but as you said, I was prepared. I wouldn’t be much of a kidnapper if I didn’t have a plan.” He was just relieved she’d said yes. No, not just relieved. He was also overjoyed.
“Where did Joseph and his men go?” she asked. “And was Maisie not available?” She asked this with more than a bit of sarcasm, and he smiled at her ability to find humor in this moment, just as she’d done with her comment about the sack in the garden.
“Back to St. Giles, I imagine. Joseph informed me that Maisie fled after he failed to kidnap you. No one has seen her since.” He didn’t disguise his irritation. He’d been quite angry to learn she was gone. “I was dearly hoping to find her, not only to counsel her about her behavior but also to recover the money you gave her. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to do that.”
“Hugh, you’ve already done enough. More than enough.”
“Since Joseph had already spent the money Maisie paid him, I made him work it off by helping me tonight.”
She gently shook her head. “I can scarcely believe you made such an elaborate plan to save me from Findon.”
He heard the skepticism in her voice and wanted to rail at everyone who’d given her such low expectations of people. “It wasn’t all that elaborate, unless you include the assistance I received from the Dukes of Eastleigh and Colehaven since I’d never attended a Society dinner before.” He wanted her to know there were plenty of people who would provide help and support, not just him. “I recruited Joseph and his friends in case there was a problem getting you away.”
She turned toward him, her amber eyes glowing in the lamplight. “Which there was.”
“Yes, I’d intended to keep my identity secret. The plan was for Joseph and his men to abduct you while I remained in the shadows. However, I couldn’t abide the manner in which Findon was treating you, and I’m afraid my anger got the better of me.” He was frustrated with himself for losing his temper, but Findon was even worse than Hugh had heard.
“Thank you for intervening.” She took his hand and brought it to her lap. “I didn’t want to go to the garden with him, but my father insisted. I saw you leave the drawing room, and I thought you’d left.”
He cupped her face with his free hand. “Without you? Never. I asked you to meet me in the garden. I will always keep my promises.”
“It wasn’t a promise.” She sounded shy, and her cheeks turned a faint pink.
“This is. Look at me, Pen.” He stroked his thumb along her cheek, and she lifted her gaze to his. “I promise to keep you safe, to love and cherish you, and to share all that I have and all that I am with you. Now and forever.”
Tears welled in her eyes. She pressed her lips to his in a brief but fervent kiss. “I love you too.”
He pulled her against him, clasping the back of her neck and circling his arm around her waist. Then he kissed her again, pouring his very soul into her. It was several long minutes before he took his mouth from hers. He tossed his hat to the floor and rested his forehead against hers. Their breath mingled, and their hearts beat together in time. H
e massaged the back of her head, letting his fingers dive into her hair, heedless of causing the style to come apart.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Seven Dials.” Her eyes widened, and he hastened to assure her. “It’s no worse than St. Giles, and I didn’t want to take you back to St. Giles in case they went looking for you there. I am as welcome in Seven Dials as I am in St. Giles, and we’ll stay at an inn I know well. It’s safe and comfortable.”
She blinked, her dark lashes fluttering against her pale skin. “And tomorrow, we’ll get married?”
He nodded. “Yes. I have a license, and Tom will perform the ceremony at my church.” He pulled back slightly and looked into her eyes. “I hope you don’t mind getting married there. It would mean a great deal to me and to my parishioners.”
“There is nowhere I would rather marry you. Your parish is my parish. Your church is my church. Some of your parishioners will be there?”
“I had hoped so, but I don’t think it’s wise to invite anyone now. I will send a note to Tom ensuring he keeps things quiet.” He frowned. “I am concerned your parents—or Bow Street Runners—will come looking for you at my home or at the church, particularly since Findon will now be able to definitely tell them that I was in the garden.” His behavior had been foolish, but Hugh wouldn’t regret it.
She paled but put her hands on his face and looked at him with determination. “They won’t find us in Seven Dials, and even if they’re waiting for us tomorrow at the church, it won’t matter. Nothing will stop me from marrying you.” Her gaze was fierce, her hands warm with the heat of her conviction. “Nothing.”
He kissed her, their lips and tongues meeting and moving together as if they’d been created for each other. Her scent of lavender permeated his senses and fanned his already smoldering desire. He pressed his hand against her lower back, bringing her against him as he strove to angle himself to bring them chest to chest on the seat. Groaning with frustration and need, he pulled her onto his lap instead. She gasped into his mouth but held his neck more tightly and kissed him with even greater fervor.
The coach came to a sudden stop, nearly sending them into a heap on the floor. Hugh clasped her against him, and their mouths broke apart. Their eyes met with heat and desire—and they laughed.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She nodded. “Never better.”
He glanced out the window. “We’re here.” He opened the door and stepped down from the hack, then helped her to the pavement. He’d already paid the driver, who immediately started back into traffic.
She leaned against him and looked up at the sign hanging over the door. “The Leek and Sieve?”
Hugh chuckled. “The innkeeper, possesses a dry wit.” He offered her his arm.
She placed her hand on his sleeve and gave him an earnest stare. “I hope there is just one room awaiting us, because I am not letting you go ever again.”
He pulled her close and kissed her cheek before whispering against her ear. “Good, because neither am I.”
* * *
Penelope stared at the room in open dislike. When he’d said they were indeed sharing a room, she’d envisioned one bed. “Why are there two beds?”
He closed the door and bolted it before moving to the window and making sure the drapes were tightly closed. Turning, he regarded her with nothing bordering regret or apology. “To be honest, I wasn’t certain what to expect and didn’t want to presume that you’d wish to share a bed with me.”
She put her hands on her hips. Now that she’d pursued what she wanted, she didn’t mean to stop. Independence was heady and empowering. “Except I just did exactly one week ago.”
“Yes, but that was all that was available.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “If I came this far with you, to an inn in Seven Dials with the intention of marrying you in the morning, wouldn’t it be safe to assume I would want to share a bed?”
“I try never to assume,” he said calmly. “I’d planned to secret you away—if you wanted me to—whether you agreed to marry me or not. Rescue from Findon didn’t necessarily mean you’d choose me instead. Perhaps you’d prefer to be alone. I wouldn’t have blamed you.”
He was far too even-tempered, but then so was she. On the outside. Inside, she was tormented by loneliness and despair and, currently, with desire. “You wouldn’t have been disappointed?”
His eyes glimmered with intensity as he regarded her across the small width of the room. “I would have been devastated, but my primary goal is to make you happy. If your happiness involves me, so much the better.”
She shook her head as a smile teased her mouth. “You are the most selfless man.” And perhaps not as even-tempered as she thought. At least not on the inside.
She walked farther into the room and took in the cozy interior. There was a small hearth with a few burning coals, two mismatched stuffed chairs, and two narrow beds. Moving to stand between the beds, she said, “Since I did choose you and we’ll be married tomorrow, let’s push the beds together.”
Hugh crossed his arms over his chest. “As tempting as that is—as you are—we should wait until we are wed.”
He couldn’t mean to be a stickler for propriety. Not after the night they’d already spent together. She walked toward him, purposely swaying her hips and wondering if it would have any effect since she had no experience in flirtation. “I already endured one night of temptation with you, and I am not going to suffer another. We will be wed in a matter of hours.”
“That is my same argument. We will be wed in a matter of hours, so why not wait? The anticipation will be lovely.”
Scowling, she removed her cloak. “I don’t entirely understand what will happen between us in bed, but I’ll wager everything I have and the money I gave Maisie that the anticipation will not be lovely. It will be excruciating.”
He turned from her and went to the armoire in the corner. One of the doors hung at an odd angle and creaked as he opened it. “There is a brush and other toiletries as well as a night rail.”
She joined him and saw the items he’d mentioned. “You thought of everything.”
“Not me. The Duchesses of Eastleigh and Colehaven organized this.”
How thoughtful of them. “I am very grateful, for I’d rather not sleep in my gown.”
“They didn’t think you would, since you will need to wear it to your wedding. They considered providing a gown but weren’t sure it would be the right fit.”
Penelope glanced down at her peacock-blue gown and was glad she’d chosen it. She lifted her gaze to his and spoke softly. “I wore this gown because it’s my favorite. I wanted to look my best for you.”
He turned toward her and touched her sleeve, his thumb and forefinger caressing the silk. “It’s exquisite, just like you. I wanted to look my best for you too. This was not my favorite suit, but it is now. I just had it made. I’m afraid my wardrobe doesn’t support dinners at the Marquess of Bramber’s house.”
“Good, because I doubt we’ll ever dine there again.” Overcome with the need to touch him and be touched, she stepped close to him and slid her arms up the front of his coat. He was warm and strong, his chest wide and muscled beneath the layers of his clothing. She longed to see him in his shirtsleeves as she had the other night. No, she wanted to see him in nothing at all.
That he preferred to wait until they were wed was incredibly frustrating. Perhaps she could change his mind.
Penelope stood on her toes and curled her hands around his neck. Pulling his head down, she touched her mouth to his with eager abandon. Her lips tangled with his, and she slipped her tongue into his heat.
With a masculine grunt, he swept her tight against him. Their kisses were long and wild as they took their time exploring each other. Penelope pulled at the back of his hair and pressed her palms against the sides of his neck, tucking her hands beneath his collar. It wasn’t enough of him—she needed more.
Bringing her h
ands forward, she plucked at the knot of his cravat. When the silk was loose, she tugged it free of his neck.
He broke the kiss and narrowed his eyes at her. “What are you doing?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Helping you prepare for bed. You can’t sleep in your clothing either.” She peered into the armoire. “Is there a nightshirt for you, or will you be sleeping in the nude?”
“Pen.”
She arched her brow innocently. “What?” Dropping the cravat into the armoire, she spun around and presented her back. “Will you unlace me, please?” When he hesitated, she said, “I can’t do it myself.”
With a heavy exhalation that heated the back of her neck, he began to unlace her. He moved slowly and meticulously, but soon enough, the gown was loose. She stepped from the garment and hung it on a hook in the armoire.
Slipping her petticoat from her shoulders, she divested it next and hung it beside the gown. “My corset, if you don’t mind.” She presented her back once more.
She could practically feel the tension in his fingertips as he plucked at the laces. Or maybe it was the hitch in his breath. Or the raw desire emanating from his body.
Or maybe it was her desire coming from her body.
Whatever the source, with each sweep of his fingers against her back, she was more lost. At last, the corset loosened, and she pushed it from her body. Placing it in the armoire, she turned to face him.
His face was tight and drawn, and she pressed her advantage. Slipping her hands into his coat, she pushed the garment off his shoulders. He shrugged it down his arms, and she put it in the armoire on a third hook.
Next, she started to unbutton his waistcoat. “Am I changing your mind?” Her voice sounded deep and sultry, not at all like herself. But then she didn’t feel like herself. At least not the Penelope she knew. This was a new Penelope. A Penelope who pursued what she wanted. A Penelope in love.
“No.” His voice broke on that short, single word, and she bit her lip to keep from smiling. “We are not pushing the beds together.”