The Earl's London Bride

by Lauren Royal

  Colin heaved a sigh of relief—though he felt a twinge of embarrassment. Here he’d been, certain he was all-important in her life, wracked with guilt for hurting her, and she hadn’t been thinking of him at all. How vain could he be?

  “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” He gently wiped fresh tears away. “A good cry was probably just what you needed. I apologize for interrupting.”

  “I was just feeling sorry for myself,” Amy said to her lap.

  He believed her. But there was something in her voice…

  And she wouldn’t look at him.

  He lifted her chin, forcing her gaze to meet his. “Is that all?”

  She nodded. “Though I did wish you were here with me,” she admitted softly.

  Her eyes were wide and trusting, darkened in that compelling way that drew him in. Without thinking, he leaned over to kiss her, his mouth moving gently on hers in a silent apology.

  It felt so…natural.

  When he pulled away, her voice dropped to a whisper. “Why did you come back?”

  “I couldn’t stay away,” he confessed, knowing it was true the moment the words left him. “I never made any other plans. I couldn’t bear to think of you in my house and me somewhere else entirely.” He pushed a hand through his hair. What was he saying? ”Amy, I—”

  “Shh.” She pressed a finger to his lips. “Don’t say it. I know you’re promised, Colin, and I’ve a destiny of my own. But I’m not quite ready to meet that destiny, so for now I’m here. I know you have things you must do, but if you could save me an hour for cards or chess, or for showing me your house, or for…”

  Or for kissing, he knew she was thinking. But she was mirroring his thoughts. It was impossible for him to stay away from her when she was so close by. Absolutely impossible.

  He’d never been able to resist her pull. Never.

  “All right,” he agreed. “The shops are closed tomorrow, but I’ll take you to order a few gowns on Monday, we’ll have them delivered Tuesday, and the next morning we’ll leave. Three more days you’ll stay here—and so will I. No one need know you’re here.”

  “Won’t Lady Priscilla—”

  “Shh,” he admonished, borrowing her gesture and placing his finger on her lips. “I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.”

  Three days.

  In truth, he had no idea how he could keep her presence secret from Priscilla or anyone else, but he would find a way.

  “THREE DAYS,” Amy agreed solemnly. Three days. Three days more than she had any right to hope for or deserve.

  As though to seal their secret pact, Colin lifted her hand and kissed the back, then, his gaze locked on hers, he turned her hand over and kissed the palm, his lips warm and tender. Amy closed her eyes as shimmering tendrils of feeling swept up her arm.

  Colin moved closer, pulling her up to sit and gathering her into his arms. For a fleeting moment she worried that she wore nothing but her chemise—again—but then all thoughts fled when his mouth met hers.

  Amy felt like she floated on a puffy, comforting cloud. She tasted warmed, rich brandy. By degrees the kiss grew deeper, possessive, imprinting the memory of him so deep inside her that she knew she’d always carry a part of him with her, though they be parted by a sea and the impossible gulf of lives that had never been meant to cross.

  Colin kissed her for a long time, then pressed her cheek to his shoulder. He sat motionless, enjoying her light rose fragrance and listening to her ragged breathing, matched by his own. In the stillness, he could feel her heart thudding, for him. And he was seized momentarily by a profound sense of sadness, for what was, and what couldn’t be.

  At last she lifted her head, raised a hand to shove the long, inky black strands from her face, and gazed at him wordlessly. Her eyes were deep purple, brimming over with a complicated blend of affection and pain.

  Incredible, incredible pain.

  He pulled her closer, unwilling to look into those sorrowful eyes just now. “Hush, love,” he whispered into her hair. “Don’t think on it. We have three more days. It’s a lifetime.”

  It’s not, she thought. But it had to be. It was all she would ever have.

  Colin brushed his lips over hers once more. “Don’t think,” he repeated, and then he proceeded to make sure she couldn’t, with his lips and the incredible power he had at his disposal—the power of two souls that were made to be one.

  FORTY

  HEARING VOICES in the corridor a few minutes later, Colin pulled away from Amy. Weak morning sunlight streamed through the window. When had that happened?

  Hang it, it must be later than he thought.

  Or earlier.

  Whichever, it was bad.

  Now the staff was up and about, and he’d be hard put to leave Amy’s chamber unnoticed, which was imperative if he wished to keep the gossips at bay. The servants’ grapevine was well established in London; should he be caught in here with Amy, the news would be common knowledge before the day was out.

  “What is it?” Amy asked.

  “Hush.” He sat still, listening, waiting for the best time to stand and make a run for it. Listening…

  Wait, he thought with a silent groan. Those weren’t servants’ voices, chatting in passing as they went about their daily chores. The voices were louder and much more familiar. Jason’s voice, and Ford’s and Kendra’s.

  Of all the rotten luck.

  He’d thought he could spend his evenings with Priscilla and an hour or two in the daytime with Amy, playing a game and pleasantly passing the time. And, all right, kissing. He’d be kidding himself if he thought there would be no kissing.

  But it would be harder now, perhaps even impossible, to keep Amy’s presence a public secret.

  Or maybe…ah, yes. His mind raced as he slowly released the breath he’d held since recognizing the voices. His family liked Amy. They didn’t know he’d been kissing her. They could even act as his cover—yes, she’d stayed at Cainewood, after all, and they considered her their friend.

  It would work—so long as he wasn’t discovered in her bedroom. They’d never approve of that.

  The voices faded. “I must leave now,” Colin whispered. “You get some sleep.” He brushed a last kiss across her lips, then rose, padded to the door, and pressed his ear against it.

  All clear.

  He opened the door a crack, pleased that it didn’t creak. Poised to run next door to safety, he took a deep breath and flung it open—and was greeted by Kendra’s startled face.

  He backed up and slammed the door shut.

  “Colin?” Kendra’s muffled voice came through the wood. “Is that you?”

  He cursed at himself. In one split second, he’d made a complete mess of everything. Why on earth hadn’t he walked brazenly into the corridor as though nothing were amiss? He could have simply explained that Amy had been crying and he’d stopped in to make sure she was all right. Or claimed she’d had a nightmare, as had happened the other night.

  Now he looked every bit as guilty as he was, no doubt about it.

  Kendra hammered on the door. “Colin? What are you doing in there?”

  A hand on the door latch, Colin stood rooted to the spot, his gaze riveted to Amy. She watched him, her eyes wide, her mouth gaping open.

  The mouth he’d just kissed.

  Footsteps approached. “What the dickens?”

  He sagged against the door. Curse it, Jason was there now, too.

  “Colin’s inside.” Hearing Kendra’s smug tone, Colin could cheerfully wring her neck. “Hiding. With Amy.”

  There was nothing for it. With a last, lingering glance at Amy, Colin opened the door and slipped through. Closing it behind him, he leaned against it protectively. “Shh!”

  “What were you doing in there?” Kendra hissed back.

  He mustered his most convincing whisper. “Amy was having a nightmare. I was just checking on her.”

  “Is that so?” Kendra crossed her arms. “Then why did you shut the doo
r when you saw me?”

  He wrinkled his brow in what he hoped was a puzzled expression. “Were you there? Amy was calling out again, so I went back inside.”

  “Poppycock! You think I’d fall for such an old chestnut? I didn’t hear a thing. This looks mighty suspicious.”

  “What business is it of yours?” Colin spat defensively. “I needn’t answer to you, little sister!”

  “Amy is my friend, and if you’ve taken advantage of her, it’s my duty to see you do right by her, Colin Chase!”

  Both of them had long since abandoned whispering. Jason stepped between them and faced Kendra. “If Colin says he was just checking on her, we’ll have to take his word for it.”

  Ah! Some male loyalty. Colin smiled.

  Until Jason swung around to confront him. “What is she doing here? I thought you were taking her to Dover.”

  “She wanted to buy some things before she left. She lost all her clothes in the fire.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Of course it is! I spent last evening with Priscilla, at Lady Carson’s boring ball.” Colin yanked the belt of his robe tighter. “This is ridiculous. I needn’t explain myself to you two.” He stalked toward his chamber and had his hand on the door latch when Kendra opened Amy’s door.

  Instinctively, he whirled around and hastened back to…protect Amy? He didn’t know. But he saw Jason go red and prudently avert his eyes, and then Colin had to see what they were looking at. He leaned around the door frame.

  Inside the bedchamber, Amy was still sitting up in the bed, her hair tangled, her lips rosy and swollen from kissing. She looked adorable.

  Colin was horrified at the sight of her.

  Kendra and Jason shared a long, meaningful look.

  “I’m surprised to find you here,” Kendra said brightly. “Colin said you needed some clothes?”

  “Yes.” Amy threw Colin an apologetic glance before looking back to his sister. “What are you doing here?”

  “We came to London for Christmas shopping. We always do, in early November,” Kendra explained, walking into the room. “May I come inside?” she asked, though she already was. “Let me help you dress, and we’ll talk.”

  She shut the door behind her.

  Intending to make a quick escape, Colin headed next door to his own chamber, but his older brother swung him around by the shoulder and leveled a stare at him. “Well?”

  “Well, what?”

  “Confound it!” Jason looked heavenward as if praying for patience. “You cannot fob me off that easily, Colin.” His lips thinned beneath his mustache. “We all know what went on in that chamber. In that bed.”

  Now it was Colin’s turn to go red. “Nothing happened in that bed! I know it looks bad, but…” He sighed, realizing it was time for the truth. He lowered his voice, in case any servants might be listening.“We’ve done naught but kiss. Trust me, it’s gone no further. Give me three days, and I’ll have her delivered out of our lives forever. And don’t tell her you know I’ve kissed her,” he warned. “She’d die of embarrassment. She’s no courtier—she’s been sheltered all her life.”

  “I’m too much a gentleman to embarrass her,” Jason assured him coolly. “Unlike you.”

  “What on earth is that supposed to mean?”

  “Only that you should do right by the girl and marry her. In her world, a kiss—”

  “We’ve been through this,” Colin growled in warning.

  “Things were different then. It was naught but a suggestion. Now I insist.”

  “A pox on you.” Colin paused for a deep, calming breath. “I have other plans, as does she. The match is suitable for neither of us. I know that kissing her was a mistake, but I just…” He trailed off lamely.

  Jason gave him an appraising look. “I take it you won’t be continuing to make the same mistake now that we’re here?” He asked stiffly.

  Colin’s fists clenched. “That’s none of your concern.”

  “I’m afraid it is,” Jason argued. “She’s under my roof, under my protection. And she’s no lightskirt. She’s a lovely, gently raised girl who doesn’t deserve to be treated like this.”

  “Treated like what?” Colin erupted. “Believe me, she hasn’t complained!” He dropped his voice, afraid Amy might overhear. “Unlike you, she never expected me to marry her. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m betrothed. And Amy has family and a new life awaiting her on the Continent. I regret disappointing you, but my mind is made up.” His jaw set, Colin turned to the door.

  “But we all love her,” Jason muttered under his breath.

  Colin was seized with such an unreasoning fury, a hazy red mist seemed to explode across his vision. Swiveling back, he glared straight into his brother’s eyes. “Well, I don’t.” His voice was low and dangerous. “Since you all love her so much, why don’t you all take care of her? Just see that she gets to France this time, will you? I’d prefer not to deal with her again.” He backed into the chamber. “Do me a favor, and let Priscilla know I returned to Greystone. I have work to do.”

  He slammed the door and kicked it, then hopped around clutching at his aching bare toes. What was happening to him? He’d never been such a hothead before, banging doors and kicking things. And though his family had always been loud and argumentative, of late his exchanges with them were less good natured and more acrimonious.

  And now, in a moment of unthinking anger, he’d thrown away his last three days with Amy.

  A pox on everything!

  He had to leave or risk looking like even more of a fool than he was. And he couldn’t so much as tell Amy good-bye. One look at her face and he knew his heart would break, as well as his resolve.

  He threw on his clothes and left, cursing himself a hundred times for the hothead, fool, and coward he’d become.

  FORTY-ONE

  KENDRA STOOD back, casting a discerning eye as Amy twirled around in the sapphire and cream gown. “It’s gorgeous!”

  Nothing like the day dresses Amy had planned to order, the shimmering satin gown’s scooped neckline was set off with a wide vanilla lace collar, enriched with lustrous pearls. Matching lace spilled to her wrists from beneath tight three-quarter length sleeves. The full cream overskirt was split and gathered to the back to show off a pearl-embroidered sapphire petticoat.

  “It makes me feel pretty,” Amy admitted, “though I still cannot believe I let you talk me into it. I haven’t a clue where I’ll wear it.”

  “Colin will take you to a ball—”

  “No, he won’t.” Though her initial reaction to Colin’s disappearance had been hurt, in the past two weeks Amy had resigned herself to the facts. “Colin wants nothing to do with me; he’s made that perfectly clear. And most certainly not in public.”

  “He’ll come around. Trust me. I know my brother. He’s stubborn, but he’s not addlepated.”

  Amy’s finger traced a row of embroidered pearls on her skirt. “Colin and I don’t belong together, and we both know it, Kendra. I’m meant to be a jeweler in France. It’s not only what I want, it’s what I have to do.” She smoothed the slick satin, then turned to the seamstress with a rustling swish. “Unlace me, please, Madame Beaumont.”

  Amy had been distraught to find Mrs. Cholmley’s shop burned to the ground, and the seamstress herself nowhere to be found. Owing to the king’s passion for everything French, French dressmakers were all the rage. Kendra had insisted Amy order her wardrobe from Madame Beaumont, London’s most sought-after modiste.

  The seamstress’s deft fingers loosened the gown, and Amy wiggled out of it. “The hem is fine.” She stepped into the butter-yellow gown she’d borrowed from Kendra and pulled it up. “Will it be ready Monday?

  “Certainement. Along with everything else.” Madame Beaumont turned her around to lace her up in back.

  “Thank you.” Amy looked pointedly at Kendra. “Do you know if Jason is free Tuesday to take me to Dover?”

  “I haven’t the faintest idea, but it doesn’t
matter anyway.”

  Amy peered into the looking glass, rearranging her long, untamed curls. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You still have to buy stockings, gloves, and ribbons, not to mention shoes for all of these gowns,” Kendra declared gaily. “Then I want help with my Christmas shopping. You won’t be ready to leave for weeks yet—perhaps not until after Christmas.”

  “Oh, no.” Amy shook her head, remembering Colin’s original plan to secure her wardrobe within a day or two. Madame Beaumont had taken a full twelve days to create her gowns, and that was after considerable begging and extra payments.

  “Oh, yes. You had nothing whatsoever to wear; it takes time to outfit yourself properly. Besides, I’m having too much fun to send you on your way. Why, it’s almost like having a sister.”

  “Colin would be furious.”

  “A pox on Colin! If he weren’t so obstinate—”

  “Marry come up, Kendra! Let’s not start that again.”

  “Only if you agree to stop talking about leaving so soon.”

  “Well…I did forget about stockings and shoes…maybe I’ll stay an extra week.” Amy stopped fussing with her hair and turned from the mirror to look Kendra in the eye. “But that’s all. Colin and I will never happen. I mean it.”

  “Of course you do,” Kendra agreed a little too pleasantly.

  A tinkling bell on the door announced another customer. Amy and Kendra prepared to leave as Madame Beaumont rushed out to greet the newcomer. Her melodious voice drifted back to the fitting salon. “Bonjour, Lady Priscilla.”

  “No, it cannot be…” Kendra muttered under her breath.

  “Your gown is ready for your final fitting.” Madame’s accented words grew louder as she made her way to the curtained salon. “I’ll fetch it from the back room. The salon will be vacant in a moment.” The curtain parted, and Madame slipped inside. “Mesdemoiselles? Is there aught else I can do for you?”