To Romance a Charming Rogue tcw-4

by Nicole Jordan

  Damon's expression remained inscrutable, although his tone was strangely nonchalant. “Allow me to deal with her, Elle.”

  As it turned out, Eleanor was given little chance to comply. When they were admitted by a footman, her Aunt Beatrix came rushing into the entrance hall from the nearest parlor, as if she'd been waiting on pins and needles for any news of the lost aeronauts.

  “Thank God!” Beatrix exclaimed, flinging her arms around Eleanor. “Oh, my dear girl, I was frantic with worry. I feared you might have been killed.”

  Eleanor had never seen her aunt so agitated or so effusive in her display of affection, either. “The danger was not as grave as it might have been, Auntie. Lord Wrexham safely navigated the balloon to land in a field, and then we were rescued by some farmers.”

  At the mention of Damon's name, Beatrix stiffened and drew back, the profound relief on her face turning to disdain as she shifted her attention to him.

  “I am grateful to you, sir,” she said haughtily, “but I cannot forgive you. This calamity never would have happened had you not included yourself in our outing.”

  “It was hardly his lordship's fault,” Eleanor hastened to point out. “Someone released the balloon's tether before Signor Pucinelli could join us in the gondola.”

  The elder lady frowned. “So I am told. Pucinelli was horrified that you were onboard and has apologized profusely. He believes one of his crew was the culprit, but the villain cannot be questioned since he has disappeared. Still, that does not excuse what Lord Wrexham did.” She sent Damon a baleful glare. “This is the second time you have dragged my niece's good name through the muck, but this time she will be utterly ruined. Your disappearance together is already the talk of the ton.”

  Eleanor opened her mouth to defend Damon, but her aunt continued lamenting in despair. “This is beyond appalling, Lord Wrexham. Eleanor will be shunned from polite company, and I will never be able to hold up my head again-and you are to blame, sir. You are the worst sort of scoundrel. No lady is safe around you-”

  “You are quite wrong, Lady Beldon,” Damon interrupted her tirade coolly. “I assure you, Lady Eleanor is completely safe with me. And I am prepared to make amends at once.”

  “What do you mean, make amends?” Beatrix repeated, her tone scornful.

  “I will wed her immediately, of course. We will be married by special license as soon as I can make the arrangements.”

  Eleanor felt her heart jolt. “I beg your pardon?” she rasped, gazing blankly at Damon.

  Aunt Beatrix raised a hand to her temple, as if pained by even having to consider such an alternative. But after a long hesitation, she nodded grimly. “I fear he is right, Eleanor. As much as I dislike the idea of your taking this rogue for your husband, there is no hope for it. Marriage is the only way to salvage your reputation.”

  “No, Aunt,” Eleanor exclaimed, her voice breathy with panic. “Surely there is no need for such drastic measures.”

  “If I may, Lady Beldon,” Damon said, “I would like to speak to your niece in private, to make her see reason.”

  Eleanor did indeed want to speak to Damon alone, but it was to make him see reason. Thus, when her aunt looked ready to object to a private tete-a-tete, Eleanor forestalled her. “A capital idea, my lord.”

  Turning without another word, she led him from the hall to the nearest parlor, and after shutting the door firmly, faced him.

  “What do you mean, announcing your intention to wed me?” Eleanor said at once. “Is that your misguided notion of dealing with my aunt?”

  “Yes,” Damon replied mildly. “Your aunt is right, Elle. There is no hope for it. We must marry.”

  Eleanor stared at him. “How can you possibly treat this disaster so cavalierly?”

  “I am not treating it cavalierly. But no amount of protesting will change the urgency of our circumstances.”

  Panic stabbing her, she lashed out at him. “My aunt is right. This would never have happened had you not insisted on spoiling the prince's courtship.”

  Damon held up a hand. “If you're going to tear a strip off me, you will have to wait until later. If I leave now, I will have time to apply for a special license, so we can hold the ceremony tomorrow morning.”

  Eleanor regarded Damon in disbelief. “We won't be holding a ceremony tomorrow morning or at any other time! I won't be forced into a holy union that will last for all of our days when there is no love between us.”

  “You have no choice, Elle. We went too far. Not only did I compromise you, I took your virginity.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Your aunt would be even more appalled to learn that small detail, wouldn't you agree?”

  She eyed him warily. “You wouldn't dare tell her.”

  “I might, since it would make her even more adamant about insisting upon our marriage to avert a scandal.”

  “I knew you were devious,” she ground out between her teeth.

  “Perhaps, but you will marry me.”

  Eleanor clenched her fists in frustration, fighting against acknowledging the truth of his argument.

  She was angry at herself also for getting into this deplorable situation. She had wanted a love match, yet she'd totally destroyed that option now. If she hadn't made love to Damon this morning, she might have tried to weather the coming storm. But she could hardly claim that her reputation had been unfairly tarnished because nothing had happened when she was alone with him.

  Dread filling her, Eleanor raised a hand to her brow. She would have a husband who didn't love her, a certain recipe for heartbreak. She was in love with Damon when he didn't return her affection in the least.

  “I cannot believe you are so insistent about making amends for compromising me,” she said weakly. “You don't give a fig about what society thinks about you-you never have.”

  “But I care what is thought about you. And I mean to protect you by making you my viscountess. You will be ruined otherwise.”

  “I could always move to the Continent and enter a convent,” Eleanor muttered.

  His quick smile indicated how absurd he considered her threat. “You are wholly unsuited for the existence of a nun, Elle. A woman with your passion, your hunger for life, shouldn't be locked away beyond the walls of a convent. We just proved that this morning.”

  When she stood there regarding him in dismay, Damon stepped closer. Reaching up, he curved his strong fingers gently about her cheek. “You could be carrying my child. Have you thought of that?”

  Eleanor's hand stole to her abdomen. No, she hadn't thought of it, although she should have.

  “We don't love each other,” she repeated, grasping at straws.

  “That makes no difference, Elle.”

  “It makes a difference that you are a rake.”

  Damon held her gaze. “I told you, I will be faithful to our marriage vows, even if I cannot love you.”

  Pain stabbed her anew at his assertion, yet Eleanor was determined to conceal it. “You also said you would remain celibate until I agreed to wed you, but you broke your vow in less than three days.”

  Damon's lips curved. “I don't believe that counts since I broke it with you.”

  “The point is,” she said hurriedly, ignoring the temptation of his smile, “that I don't trust you, Damon.”

  His expression sobered at once while his dark eyes seemed to soften. “I know, Elle. But I promise you, I have renounced my wicked ways. And I will do my utmost never to hurt you.”

  She couldn't believe him, yet she knew she was fighting a losing battle. She swallowed hard, trying to quell her panic as she repeated her objections. “There must be another way, Damon. I don't want to be forced to wed you simply because my reputation is in shreds.”

  “You want to spare your aunt a scandal, though, don't you?”

  That consideration trumped all of Eleanor's pro tests. “Yes, of course.” She owed her aunt immensely for opening her home to an orphaned girl. She couldn't repay Beatrix's kindness by miring her in scandal.r />
  “Then there should be no question as to your decision,” he pointed out.

  While she stood there debating with herself, Damon closed the final distance between them. Without warning, he drew Eleanor into his arms, yet there was no passion in his embrace. He was offering her comfort instead.

  “I know this is not what you wanted, Eleanor,” he said softly, “but we have no choice.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. His caressing voice had the power to daze and enchant her, but his tenderness made her want to cry. It wasn't fair that Damon made her heart melt with his tender concern.

  Pressing her face into the warm curve of his shoulder, Eleanor gave a sigh of despair. “I suppose not.”

  He drew back slightly to regard her, although he kept his arms wrapped around her in a loose embrace. “Cheer up, sweetheart.” His deep gaze became a dare. “If you had the courage to face the possibility of death in a balloon without flinching, you can face the prospect of marrying me.”

  Watching the uncertain emotion flickering in her vivid blue eyes, Damon knew the moment that she accepted the inevitable. He let out the breath he hadn't known he was holding.

  “Will you tell your aunt, or shall I?” he asked.

  “I will do it,” Eleanor said with another heavy sigh.

  He held her lithe body against him for a moment longer, then released her and stepped back. “I will get word to you as soon as I can secure a special license. And I will send Lady Beldon in to you on my way out. I suspect she is waiting anxiously to hear your verdict.”

  Lady Beldon was indeed hovering anxiously in the corridor when Damon exited the parlor.

  “Your niece would like to speak with you, my lady,” he informed her before bowing and making for the front door.

  Upon leaving Portman Place, Damon hailed the first hack he saw. Intent on procuring a special license, he ordered the jarvey to convey him to the ecclesiastical courts at Doctor's Commons, then settled against the squabs, satisfied that he was taking the right course.

  He'd known from the moment he made love to Eleanor that their carnal union would lead to marriage, even if she had not. He was honor-bound to wed her.

  Yet he had no regrets, Damon realized. He had wanted Eleanor back in his life for good, and he had staked his claim on her today in the most permanent way possible.

  Not that taking her body had been an entirely conscious decision. His wild physical response had been a reaction to the peril of the moment. He'd feared he might lose her, Damon admitted. His relief upon knowing that she was safe after their dangerous flight had left him weak-as had the passion they shared afterward. Eleanor's ardent, innocent sensuality had matched every fantasy he'd ever had of her. That, combined with her courage and her vibrant spirit, had awed and aroused and touched him.

  He was extremely glad that their tender interlude had been interrupted, for it had allowed him to bring his emotions firmly back under control.

  The incident should be a clear warning to him, Damon knew. He needed to keep his distance emotionally from Eleanor once they were wed. Yet he was quite expert at that by now. He'd spent most of his life cultivating dispassion in his relationships.

  There would be no question of love between them, Damon promised himself. He knew the kind of devastating pain he risked if he let Eleanor into his heart. A pain that could be even worse than any he'd endured before.

  He would not allow her to fall in love with him, either, because she would only be hurt when he couldn't reciprocate, and he was determined not to hurt her again.

  He had to earn her trust, however. He had vowed fidelity, but he would have to show her by deeds, not mere words.

  No, Damon thought silently, he couldn't fulfill Eleanor's desire for love, but on his life, he would make every other possible effort to see that she was happy.

  If Eleanor was stunned and dismayed by the necessity of marrying Damon, so was her aunt, judging from the elder lady's grim expression when she entered the parlor.

  But when Beatrix heard of their plan to wed in the morning, she nodded in concurrence. “I agree, it is best to act quickly.”

  “I suppose so,” Eleanor said quietly. “Although that means Marcus will miss my wedding. He and Arabella are not expected to return to England until early next week. And Drew and Heath won't be there, either.”

  “It cannot be helped, my dear. We need to stanch the brewing scandal as soon as possible. Indeed, I think we would be wise to leave for Brighton tomorrow afternoon, even though the house party is not scheduled to begin until Friday. Our guests can join us then as originally planned. The aspersions will die down sooner if we are away from town.”

  Since the prospect of leaving town to avoid facing the ton held great appeal, Eleanor made no objection.

  Seeing her so dispirited, though, Beatrix tried to cheer her. “I regret that it has come to this, my dear, but the marriage need be in name only. And of course I will do my best to shield you from Wrexham whenever possible. I will ensure you have separate bedchambers at Rosemont at least… although as a newly wedded couple, it will not do for you to go your separate ways so soon after the ceremony. We don't want your union to look like a forced marriage, even if it is. We will put out word that you and Wrex-ham realized your affections are still engaged, so the gossipmongers will think it a love match. That should mitigate the scandal in some measure.”

  But it is not a love match, Eleanor's heart wanted to protest.

  At her silence, Beatrix patted her hand briskly. “Now that our plan is settled, you should go upstairs and freshen up. Ring for Jenny to help you change and I will order our staff to begin packing at once. I will also ask Cook to prepare a large luncheon. Now that you are safe at home, I find that I am famished. I could not eat a single bite when your fate was so uncertain.”

  Eleanor smiled faintly at her aunt's surprising admission. Beatrix rarely allowed anything to interfere with her comfort. Nor did she often confess to caring about anyone else. Perhaps her budding romance with Signor Vecchi was softening her outlook on life to a small degree.

  Eleanor dutifully went upstairs to her bedchamber, but she didn't ring for her abigail. Not only would she rather be alone with her thoughts, she wanted privacy in case the change in her virginal state was evident.

  When she shed her pelisse and gown and undergarments, then surveyed her body in the cheval glass, Eleanor could see telltale signs of lovemaking-traces of Damon's dried seed on her thighs along with a pink tinge of blood. Her lips were redder than usual, as well, her breasts more sensitive. And she felt a distinct tenderness between her thighs when she washed herself at the basin.

  What was more, the slightest touch made her vividly recall what had happened between them this morning-Damon kissing her and stroking her and moving inside her.

  Eleanor shut her eyes, dismay filling her once again. At this time tomorrow she would likely be married to Damon, a fate that would have made her wildly happy two years ago. She had longed to become his wife then, but now…

  He claimed he didn't want to hurt her, that he would be faithful to their marriage vows, yet she couldn't bring herself to believe him. And if he betrayed her again? This time the devastation would be overwhelming.

  Still, what future would she have if she refused to wed Damon? She couldn't hurt her aunt by bringing scandal down upon their heads. And even if she had cared nothing for Aunt Beatrix, a nunnery was out of the question. Nor could she flee to some quiet place in the country and secrete herself away in shame. She didn't want that kind of life, didn't want to be shunned by genteel society. She wanted to marry, to have children, a family. She wanted a husband who loved her.

  That was the rub, Eleanor knew. Damon couldn't or wouldn't love her. She was beginning to understand why-because of the terrible hurt he'd experienced at losing his family. The knowledge made her incredibly sad, yet it also showed her what a powerful force she was up against.

  A shiver racked Eleanor's body. She felt so terribly vulnerable, lo
ving Damon when he didn't love her in return.

  He could break her heart so easily. His power over her already was indisputable. When she was with him, he enchanted and vexed her and made all her senses come vividly alive. When she argued with him, he simply kissed the breath out of her. And when she made love to him, she felt on fire, wildly out of control.

  It would be impossible to protect herself once they were wed, Eleanor suspected.

  Drying herself off, she found a fresh chemise and began to dress again in a simple muslin afternoon gown as she resigned herself to her fate. The simple truth was, she had no choice but to accept Damon's proposal, especially if there was the slightest chance he could love her someday-

  At the thought, Eleanor caught her breath. Would it be possible to make Damon fall in love with her?

  That had been their chief problem during their courtship two years ago. He hadn't loved her, so he'd turned to another woman to fulfill his carnal desires.

  But could he ever come to love her?

  She was almost certain she'd seen more than simple lust in his eyes this morning, although she couldn't trust her judgment when it came to him.

  For the first time since he'd announced his intention of marrying her, however, Eleanor felt a flicker of hope. She might never be able to win Damon's love, but she had to try. Her future, her entire happiness, depended upon it.

  Perhaps she would be wise to ask Fanny Irwin for advice. There was little in Fanny's book to suggest how to prevent heartbreak once a woman had captured a husband, but she might have suggestions on how to deal with Damon.

  Coming to a decision, Eleanor let out her breath slowly. She intended to try to make Damon love her.

  Even more crucially, she intended to make him love her enough to be faithful.

  Love can sometimes make a gentleman give up his rakish ways, but it is a difficult challenge to win the male heart. -An Anonymous Lady, Advice…