Charles was shaking his head slowly, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “I think not, sweetheart. I believe Miss Godwin will soon be accepting an offer from the good Doctor Smithfield.”
“Charles!” gasped Elizabeth, surprised into forgetting her sense of being ill-used. “Aunt Emily and Doctor Smithfield? No wonder he has been underfoot so often. Do you really think they will make a match of it?”
“Certainly! He is almost as besotted as I.”
Her eyes had begun to sparkle with laughter, but now she recollected her reasons for being here, and she schooled her expression accordingly.
“You need not lie to me. I know very well why you married me,” she told him.
“And why is that?”
“In order to satisfy your sense of honour because you had... had so thoroughly compromised me.”
“If you honestly believe that, my girl, then you are not as perceptive as I had thought.” Charles was turned partially towards her, with one arm along the back of the seat, and he lifted his other hand to brush a wayward curl from her temple. “Why do you suppose I went to such trouble to marry you when I had already explained that your reputation is intact and a marriage between us not necessary?”
“I don’t know,” she answered sulkily, then continued accusingly, “You insulted me unforgivably at the inn.”
He sighed. “I know, my love. And I am most damnably sorry. Do you think you could find it in your heart to forgive me if I tell you that I was half out of my mind with jealousy?”
“You were?” she asked wonderingly.
“I was,” he assured her, untying her bonnet, removing it and setting it aside.
“But if you lo— If you cared for me, why did you give up so easily the other day in the summer house? Why were you willing to let me go without an argument?”
“Because I thought it was what you wished,” he told her, his hand playing idly with a curl lying on her nape.
“Oh.” She shivered slightly. “Then what made you change your mind?”
“Actually, Margaret did,” he answered, raising his other hand to trail his forefinger along the curve of her cheek. “She pointed out that I would be the world’s worst fool if 1 did not fight to keep you.”
“She did?” Elizabeth asked distractedly.
“Mmm,” he murmured, his finger moving to trace her jawline. “She did.”
“Oh!” Elizabeth gasped, her wits almost addled as his finger brushed along the outline of her lips with a butterfly touch.
“Elizabeth,” he whispered into her ear, “I love you to the point of distraction.”
“Oh, Charles,” she murmured with a sigh, melting into his welcoming arms, her cheek resting against the comforting strength of his chest, “I love you, too—beyond distraction.”
He chuckled. “I was rather hoping you did, my sweet.”
After a moment, she raised her face to gaze into his eyes, a worried frown on her brow. She sighed despairingly. “Oh, Charles, it will not do. I shall make you a perfectly wretched wife.”
“You must allow me to be the judge of that, my love.”
“No, it is true! Please don’t interrupt me. You see, I am aware that you are something of a rake, and... and I know that it is common practice for husbands to keep mistresses.” Her eyes lowered to his cravat. “I also know that a wife is supposed to pretend ignorance of such things. But I very much fear that I could not. If I should hear of one of your cheres amies, or—” she had suddenly remembered Lady Sabina “—or, even worse, if I should meet your current mistress in some drawing room, I am afraid that I should cause the most dreadful scene. I am quite certain that I could never be a complacent wife.”
“Well, I suppose that is something that I shall simply have to put up with, since I do not intend to be a complacent husband.”
She glanced quickly up at him and then back at his cravat. “But it is not the same thing. No one thinks ill of a jealous husband. But a jealous wife... Oh, you would soon learn to hate me!”
“Hush!” he said, crooking his finger under her chin and lifting it so that she was once more looking into his eyes. “I could never hate you, and the question will not arise. You see before you a completely reformed rake. What need would I have of cheres amies, or mistresses, when I shall have you? You see, I have never forgotten a certain magical summer night at Langley, or the innocent girl who came to me then. Do you know how often I have dreamed of her?”
She shook her head, blushing becomingly, but did not look away. Her eyes searched his deeply, then seemingly satisfied with what she saw there, she smiled mischievously. “And you will not mind having such a thoroughly compromised bride?”
He shook his head slowly. “I wouldn’t have any other. Will you mind having such a thoroughly compromising husband?”
She shook her head slowly, just before his lips descended to hers in a thoroughly wonderful kiss.
With loving thanks to my four children, Linda, Carl, Karen and Eric, for all their enthusiasm and encouragement, especially Linda and Eric, who put up with me while I created And a special thanks to Joan Hayter, who gave me confidence when I needed it
Copyright © 1991 by Catherine A. Nickens
Originally published by Harlequin Regency Romance (0373311478)
Electronically published in 2008 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No portion of this book may be reprinted in whole or in part, by printing, faxing, E-mail, copying electronically or by any other means without permission of the publisher. For more information, contact Belgrave House, 190 Belgrave Avenue, San Francisco, CA 94117-4228
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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.
The Thoroughly Compromised Bride Page 15