“He is honorable and wishes to save my reputation—”
“Pish posh. If he were truly opposed to marrying you, he would simply refuse to do so, and because of who he is, he could get away with it. Clearly you do not understand his exalted position in Society… a position that you will share as his wife.” She squeezed Elizabeth’s hand. “Be happy, my dear. You will never want for anything.”
Sadness tugged at Elizabeth’s heart. “Except perhaps my husband’s love.”
Aunt Joanna wagged a gloved finger. “Darling, don’t doubt for an instant that Bradford is well and truly besotted. If he weren’t, wild horses could not have dragged a proposal from him. And once a man is besotted, he is nothing more than a fish on a hook.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You’ve hooked the largest fish in England, my dear. He’s already infatuated with you. Now all you need to do is pull your line into shore.”
Elizabeth suppressed a giggle at the impossible comparison of Austin to a fish. “And how do I do that?”
“By being your wonderfully unique self. And by engaging his interest you-know-where.” Her aunt’s eyebrows bobbed up and down several times.
Good heavens, surely Aunt Joanna wasn’t going to embark on a discussion of Austin’s anatomy. “Um, I afraid I don’t know exactly where you-know-where is.”
Aunt Joanna leaned forward, forcing Elizabeth to dodge a peacock feather. “The bedchamber,” she intoned in a low voice, and Elizabeth sagged with relief. “If you keep your husband happy in the bedchamber, his infatuation will grow into love. It worked for me with my darling Penbroke. Your uncle was faithful to me until the day he died. A husband who has a warm marriage bed will not seek out a mistress.”
Fire burned in Elizabeth’s cheeks, but her aunt went on, “As your mother is not here, God rest her soul, I shall instruct you as I believe she would want. Now, tell me, dear, do you know where babies come from?”
Elizabeth fought a sudden urge to laugh. Her aunt looked so earnest and fiercely determined to do her duty. “Aunt Joanna, I am a physician’s daughter and was raised around animals. I am well acquainted with the workings of the body.”
“Excellent. Then you know everything you need to know.”
“I do?”
“Yes.” Reaching out, she patted Elizabeth’s cheek. “Just remember everything I’ve just told you and you’ll do splendidly.”
Elizabeth stared, trying to recall anything her aunt had just told her.
“And if you have any other questions,” Aunt Joanna said, “don’t hesitate to ask. I’m delighted to help.” With that, she rose and tossed her boa over her shoulder. “Come, dear. It’s time to go downstairs. I want to make sure I have a clear view of Lady Digby and her horse-faced brood when Bradford announces your betrothal. Small and petty of me, I know, but it isn’t every day that one’s niece captures ‘England’s Most Eligible Bachelor.’’’
Elizabeth decided that the betrothal announcement in the drawing room before dinner produced the greatest range of facial expressions she’d ever seen. Caroline and Aunt Joanna beamed. Austin’s mother smiled regally while Robert simultaneously grinned and winked. Most of the other guests looked anywhere from surprised to stunned, while Lady Digby looked as if she’d swallowed an insect. The Digby daughters looked as if they’d all bitten into the same sour lemon. After the initial surprise, however, the guests gathered around her and Austin, offering their congratulations.
Dinner was a gala affair, with everyone raising their glasses to toast the future bride and groom. Several guests who had planned to depart first thing in the morning hastily changed their itineraries to remain at Bradford Hall for the whirlwind wedding ceremony.
Elizabeth noticed that the Digby daughters were already turning their attention toward the other available gentlemen guests. She smothered a grin when she saw Robert seated between two Digby girls, both of them vying for his attention with cold-eyed determination. Robert caught her looking at him from across the table and rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. She had to cough into her hand to cover her laughter.
Her merriment faded, however, as the meal progressed. She realized with growing discomfort that everyone at the food-laden mahogany table was looking at her. Some of the guests were not as obvious as others, but she felt the weight of two dozen stares flicking over her. Assessing her.
Whereas before she’d been the object of sneers, now she observed speculation. Curiosity. And while she clearly felt skepticism veiled behind many of the smiles, as Austin had predicted, no one uttered an unkind word to her. Indeed, the gentleman seated next to her, instead of talking around her, hung on her every word as if gems of brilliance dripped from her lips. Penelope and Prudence, neither of whom had deigned to exchange more than a dozen words with her before, now made it a point to engage her in a conversation regarding fashion. Luckily they did most of the talking.
While the gentleman next to her droned on about a recent fox hunt, she glanced toward the head of the table at Austin. He was about to drink from his wineglass when their eyes met. And held.
Elizabeth gazed at him, his hand arrested halfway to his lips, his eyes intent on hers. Heat rushed through her and she fought a sudden urge to fan herself with her linen napkin. The way he looked at her, with that dark intensity that seemed to see inside her, unnerved her. And excited her in a way she could not put a name to.
With great difficulty, she returned her attention to her dinner companions, but her skin continued to tingle from the heat of Austin’s gaze.
When the meal ended, the ladies retired to the drawing room for coffee. Elizabeth immediately found herself surrounded by half a dozen chattering women.
“Of course you must call upon us at your earliest convenience, my dear,” Lady Dibgy said, elbowing her way to Elizabeth’s side.
Before Elizabeth could open her mouth to reply, Lady Digby went on, “In fact, I should like to host a dinner party in your honor.” She turned to her daughters. “Wouldn’t that be lovely, girls?”
“Lovely, Mother,” the Digby daughters chorused.
With a determined and proprietary air, Lady Digby linked her arm through Elizabeth’s elbow. “Come, my dear. Let us sit down and discuss the plans.”
A deep, masculine voice halted Lady Digby. “If you don’t mind, Lady Digby,” Austin said smoothly, “I need to have a word with my fiancée.”
Lady Digby relinquished her hold on Elizabeth with obvious reluctance. “We were just about to discuss my plans for hosting a party in her honor.”
“Indeed? Perhaps you should discuss the arrangements with my mother and Lady Penbroke. They will be helping Elizabeth organize her social engagements for the next several months, until she is settled with her new duties.”
“Of course. Come along, girls.” Lady Digby strode across the room like a ship under full sail, her fleet of offspring bobbing along in her wake.
Austin smiled at her. “You looked like you needed rescuing.”
“I believe I did, although I’m not sure your mother or my aunt will thank you for it.”
He waved his hand in a dismissive fashion. “Mother is very adept at these matters. She’ll maneuver Lady Digby with an ease that I’d find downright frightening if I didn’t admire it so much.” His gaze roamed her face. “You look disturbed. Has anyone said something to upset you?”
“No. But I’m afraid that I feel somewhat… overwhelmed.”
He extended his elbow. “Then come with me.”
She didn’t even consider refusing. Trying not to appear overeager, she took his arm and he led her from the room. “Where are we going?”
He cocked a brow at her. “Does it matter?”
“Not at all,” she answered without hesitation. “I’m happy to escape all those people staring at me.”
Austin felt the shudder that passed through her. He’d observed her all through dinner, saw how well she’d handled herself in the face of her newfound popularity. She’d been unfai
lingly polite to people who had once snickered at her, charming to those who had previously dismissed her, and smiled at everyone who had hurt her.
Bloody hell, he was proud of her.
When they reached his private study, he opened the door. A fire crackled in the grate, casting a soft glow over the room. Closing the door behind him, he leaned against it and watched her. She stood in the middle of the room, her hands clasped in front of her, looking more lovely than anyone he’d ever seen. Tenderness flooded him along with an overwhelming urge—no, a need—to kiss her. Before he could act on his impulse, however, she spoke.
“May I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
A frown knitted her brow. “What happened to me at dinner… did that same thing happen to you?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“When you inherited your title and became the duke, did people change toward you? I’m the same person I was last week, last month, but everyone is treating me differently.”
“Not unkindly, I trust.”
“On the contrary, everyone seems quite determined to be my friend. Did that happen to you?”
“Yes, although before I was a duke, I was a marquess, so I was quite used to it already.”
She studied him for a long moment, then shook her head sadly. “I’m so sorry. It must be very difficult for you, not knowing if someone likes you or your title.”
He drew a deep breath. Would her words ever cease to amaze him? He walked across the floor, his footsteps silenced by the Axminster carpet, and stopped in front of her. She looked at him and his heart jumped. Tender warmth glowed from her beautiful eyes, sincere, honest, and unmistakable.
He simply had to touch her. Now.
Cupping her face between his hands, he brushed his lips across hers.
“Austin…” she breathed.
What was it about the sound of his name on her lips that moved him so? He’d only meant to give her a brief kiss. He’d brought her to the study for a different reason altogether. But now, with her soft curves so enticingly close, and her voice sighing his name, he promptly forgot his reason. Gathering her closer, he traced her full lower lip with the tip of his tongue. She needed no further urging to part her lips and welcome him. He half whispered, half groaned her name and deepened their kiss.
He slanted his mouth over hers and his senses caught fire. The warmth of her body, the strawberry sweetness of her mouth, her delicate lilac scent, all surrounded him, blanketing him from head to toe with a fierce heat that quickly turned into a burning, raging need. When he finally forced himself to lift his head, he was breathing hard and his heart rate had doubled. Possibly tripled.
“My goodness,” she panted, clinging to his lapels. “You’re quite good at that.”
He pulled back slightly and took in her dazed expression with a swell of masculine satisfaction. “So are you.” Incredibly, indescribably good.
“My mother once told me that Papa’s kisses made her bones melt. I had no idea what she meant at the time.”
A smile quirked his lips. “And now?”
A peach blush suffused her cheeks. “I understand. Exactly. It means you can no longer feel your knees. I must say, it’s a delightful sensation.”
“Indeed it is.” And it would soon be more delightful— when they were in his bed, naked, making love.
A dozen erotic images popped into his mind, but he firmly pushed them aside. If he allowed his thoughts to dwell on that, she wouldn’t make it out of the study with her virtue intact.
Reluctantly he released her and walked to his desk. “I want to give you something.”
Her dimples flashed. “I thought you just did.”
“Something else.” He unlocked the bottom drawer, picked up what he wanted, then returned to her side. “For you,” he said, handing her a small velvet box.
Her brows lifted in surprise. “What is this?”
“Open it and see.”
She drew back the hinged lid and gasped. Nestled in a bed of snowy velvet sat an oval-cut topaz surrounded by diamonds. “It’s a ring,” she breathed, staring wide-eyed at the glittering gem. “Good heavens, it’s extraordinary.”
Just like you. The thought popped into his mind, startling him, but he couldn’t deny its truth. She was extraordinary—and in ways that had nothing to do with her physical beauty. In ways that confused him and left him unsettled.
Removing the gem from its velvet perch, he slid it on the third finger of her left hand. “It’s part of a collection that’s been in the family for generations. I chose it because the color reminded me of your eyes.” The most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.
Staring at the ring, she slowly moved her hand and stared at the glimmering shafts the stone threw off in the firelight. Then she raised those eyes to his. Tears shimmered on her lashes and he feared she was going to cry. Instead, she leaned forward and lightly kissed his cheek.
“Thank you, Austin. It’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen. I’ll treasure it always.”
His insides squeezed tightly together at the emotion in her voice. That now familiar warmth he always seemed to experience whenever she was near assailed him—a sensation he couldn’t name other than to dub it the “Elizabeth feeling.”
God. She possessed a sweetness, an innocence, he’d truly believed couldn’t exist in a woman over the age often.
She was kindhearted. Generous and giving.
He was none of that. His failures regarding William proved it.
He stared at her for a long moment, imagining her as a bride. His bride. A disturbing thought hit him, and he frowned. She was going along with all his plans without question or complaint, and he’d never once considered that she might want the sort of lavish wedding women dreamed of. Shame filled him at his selfishness.
“Are you all right, Austin?”
“It has just occurred to me that this informal, whirlwind wedding may not be exactly what you’ve always dreamed of.”
A gentle smile touched her lips. “All my wedding dreams have always revolved around the man I’d someday marry, not the pomp and circumstance of an elaborate ceremony. Two weeks after my parents met outside the millinery shop, they eloped and were married by a ship’s captain at sea. It doesn’t matter how you marry. What matters is whom you marry.”
Not quite sure how to respond, he gathered her into his arms and buried his face in her fragrant hair, savoring her warmth for a moment. Then, after pressing a quick kiss on her forehead, he stepped away from her. “We should rejoin the others.”
While they walked slowly back to the drawing room together, she said, “I suppose you realize that I’m quite unnerved about becoming a duchess.”
“I’m afraid it’s unavoidable given our intention to marry.”
She sighed. “Things would have been much better, much simpler, if you’d just been a gardener. Or perhaps a merchant.”
He halted and stared at her. “I beg your pardon?”
“Oh, I meant no offense. It’s just that our lives would be much less… complicated, if you did not possess such a lofty title.”
“You’d prefer to marry a merchant? Or a gardener?”
“No. I’d prefer to marry you. You’d just be simpler to marry if you were a gardener.”
For the first time it really hit him that perhaps shewould be happier married to a merchant. While she was respectful of his title, she was clearly unimpressed by it. Yet the mere thought of her married to someone else, in another man’s arms, pumped hot jealousy through him.
Forcing a lightness he didn’t feel into his voice, he asked, “And if I were a merchant? You’d still marry me?”
Laying her palm against his cheek, she regarded him through serious eyes. “Yes, Austin. I’d still marry you.”
Confusion assailed him. He’d half expected a teasing answer from her, but she’d surprised him—as she often did. Damn it, how did she consistently manage to throw him off center?
“Although you
r mother, Caroline, and Aunt Joanna have pledged to help me, I’m very unclear about exactly what a duchess does.”
Gathering himself, he offered her a smile. “It’s a very simple job. All she has to do is keep her duke happy.”
She laughed. “How nice. For you. And how does she go about keeping her duke happy?”
His gaze wandered slowly down her long, lush body. “You won’t have any trouble, I promise you.” He intended to show her exactly how to keep her duke happy on their wedding night.
He wondered how the hell he would manage to wait that long.
While Elizabeth spent the next day ensconced or, he imagined, trapped in the sunny library with his mother, Caroline, Lady Penbroke, and the seamstresses, Austin labored over the accounts for his Surrey estate.
By late afternoon, the rows of numbers swam before his tired eyes, and when he heard the knock on his study door, he gratefully surrendered his quill.
“Come in.”
Miles entered, closing the door behind him. “Well, I must say, Austin, you are full of surprises.”
He pretended confusion. “Indeed? And here I thought I was rather dull and predictable.”
“Anything but, old boy. First you send me off to London to gather information about Miss Matthews. Then you summon me back here to attend your wedding to the woman.” Miles strolled over to the desk and made a great show of studying Austin. “Hmmm. You appear quite fit, no outward signs of insanity such as jumping uncontrollably about or screaming obscenities. Therefore I can only assume this whirlwind wedding indicates you’ve either fallen madly, passionately in love…” His voice trailed off and he raised his brows.
Unwelcome heat crept up Austin’s neck. “The carriage ride clearly addled your brain.”
“Or,” Miles continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “you ruined the girl.” He paused, then nodded. “I see. Couldn’t keep your hands off her, eh?”
“She saved my life.”
Miles stilled. “Excuse me?”
Austin brought him up to date on the events of the past several days. When he finished, Miles shook his head.
“Good God, Austin. You’re lucky to be in one piece.” Reaching across the desk, Miles clasped his shoulder. “We all owe Miss Matthews a debt of gratitude.”
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