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“Same way I got up. Don’t worry.” He patted off a few stray leaves from his jacket and puffed out his chest. “It’ll be as easy as climbing up.”
She stepped forward and helped him dust off some of the debris from the wall. Though he enjoyed being fussed over by lovely lass, he wasted no time and pulled her into his arms.
“I’ll be covered in bits of dirt and flower,” she scolded.
“It’s for a good cause. Now, that kiss for your rescuer is long overdue.”
“Is it?” she teased.
“Oh, indeed, madam. Or I shall lay siege to your lips without permission to do so.”
Her eyes lit up with a becoming smile. “You always have my permission.”
With that she leaned forward to press her lips to his. Her lips brushed featherlike over the side of his face and ear as he scooped her off her feet and led her back inside to her private chambers.
He stared into her dark eyes, seeing the spark of mischief that lay in wait for him. “You make me want to do wicked things to you.”
She threw her arm around his shoulder and hugged him tighter. “What kind of wicked things?”
“I’ll share the details once we are married.” He placed her on the damask bench situated at the end of her bed and sat next to her.
Her arms were still wrapped around his shoulders, her eyes searching his. “How cruel you are to keep me in suspense.”
“For now, it’s how it has to be.” He gave her a smile, knowing that wasn’t the response she sought. “Now, tell me what I’ve missed while I’ve been away?”
“Absolutely nothing. It’s been a dry season thus far. The Pemberses’ fourth daughter debuted and she seems to have a fair number more suitors than all her sisters put together.” She absently drew a pattern on his arm as she rehashed what he’d missed during the months he was away.
“We could create a little excitement of our own, darling. If we ran away right now, we’d be the sensation of the season.”
“But I have a two o’clock engagement with Westmoore,” she said with a sidelong look.
“Ah, yes, we can’t leave the poor duke waiting and wondering.”
She shoved at his shoulder and stepped away from him.
“None of that, dearest.”
“I will plead with my father tomorrow. Now, I think you should give me another kiss?” she said.
The heat of her so close did things to his body that made thinking next to impossible.
“I’m going mad with my want for you,” he said.
“Good, because I wouldn’t want you sane if you left me to my father’s schemes.”
He pressed his lips to hers, reveling in the sweet taste of her mouth. He’d needed and wanted her for so long now that he would take any liberties she offered freely.
Twirling her tongue over his, she moaned into his mouth when his hand wrapped firmly around her back and pulled her tighter against his body. He spread out on the bench beneath Kate, his shoulders firm against one arm as she maneuvered herself to sit astride his thighs. The soft give of her breasts crushed into his side, and her hip brushed against the evidence of his arousal. He groaned as her hand wormed its way beneath his cravat and shirt to wrap around the back of his neck.
What he would give to feel her bare flesh in his hands, their bodies hot and sweaty as they joined together in a passionate embrace. They needed to stop before he took this too far. He pulled away gradually, sliding off the bench and putting his feet firmly on the floor.
Their lips were still fused when he finally disengaged his body from the lush softness of hers.
When their mouths parted, he said, “I will await a letter from you indicating the next step I should take in securing our future together.”
“What if he should say no again, George?”
He pressed his palm to the side of her face. “You shouldn’t think so negatively, darling. Where there is a will, there is always a way to succeed in what is most important to you. We will marry—that is my promise to you.”
She leaned back against the footboard of her bed; the sheets were rumpled and twisted behind her and looked far more inviting than they should.
“Won’t you stay awhile longer?” she asked in that husky, sleepy voice of hers.
With a quick peck to her lips, he stepped toward the balcony. When he turned back to her, the moonlight made her pale skin luminescent. With her hair tumbled over her shoulder and her lips swollen from his kisses, he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and make her completely his. The last thing he wanted to do was leave, but if he didn’t, their night would turn into day before long. He would have her hand in marriage before taking her to his bed.
“Tomorrow, love. When you have your father’s blessing, I’ll come directly over. We’ll announce our engagement tomorrow.”
“That sounds lovely.” She fixed a lose tie at the front of her nightgown. He had to look away from her or be tempted by what she kept hidden.
He cleared his throat and stumbled back a step. He couldn’t dally here, or he’d find himself persuading her to allow him to spend the night. She wouldn’t object, even if she didn’t know what his staying might entail. Though . . . staying didn’t mean . . .
Whom was he fooling? He could no more keep his hands to himself than she. “I must leave. I only wanted to tell you that you needed to speak with your father. I will give you tomorrow to convince him that our marriage is inevitable; otherwise . . . I’m done waiting, Kate.”
“Poor Papa. He wants the best for me but doesn’t realize that I could never accept or love a man like Westmoore.” She stood from the cushioned bench and realigned her skewed nightgown and dressing robe. He could see the hard pucker of her nipples outlined beneath the flimsy material.
He took a step over the threshold of the door, knowing that if he didn’t quit her company, he’d toss her on the far-too-inviting bed to have his wicked way with her. Before he put his leg over the edge of the balcony, she threw herself into his arms. He held her, breathing in the rose scent of her hair and staring out over the garden blanketed in a light fog.
“I could stay in your arms forever,” she said, “enjoying the beauty of the night.”
The moon wasn’t quite full, but the light reflected off the fog to create an eerily beautiful backdrop to the night.
“I’d have you here forever, too.” He pulled away slowly. With one final kiss, he climbed over the balcony wall and trellis. Kate blew him a kiss when he hit solid ground.
He’d give her one final day to convince her father that they should marry. He refused to wait on this matter a moment longer. Kate would be his, and his alone.
Chapter 3
Her father had said no. George knew that would be the case, but had hoped her father would have second thoughts once his daughter insisted on a union between them.
In Kate’s words, the no wasn’t just a no, but a firm, resounding absolutely-under-no-condition would his daughter—the daughter of a duke—marry some country-bumpkin earl. He fingered the tearstain on the parchment once more before crinkling up the note and shoving it in his pocket.
Her father didn’t seem to care that the Carleton Estate was twice the size of Westmoore’s. Never mind that the Carleton Estate bordered her father’s lands, and his daughter would never be far from home once married to George. No, a man who dealt in trade would never be good enough for the old duke’s daughter.
Tonight, everything would change. Truth be told, he had planned out the events that were about to unfold long before he went away, knowing Kate’s father would never accept him willingly as a son-in-law. He’d already enlisted the help of his two oldest friends, both in agreement that Westmoore and Kate would not suit, not when she loved George and George loved her. Though they called him a sap, they stood behind him in his desire to marry Kate.
George patted the dark muzzle of one of his blacks. Matthew, a man second in line to becoming a marquess, sat atop the carriage, reins in hand, and ga
ve a nod to indicate he was ready. It had been Matthew who suggested he have the carriage made for the occasion. With a nod to his other friend, Jason, they edged along the shadows and toward the duke’s house.
Dressed in black from head to toe—even down to the cravat—he stealthily approached the gate to the back garden. Jason had decided to enter though the servants’ door, having previously convinced one of the maids to leave it unlocked.
Kate would probably admonish him for his impatience in stealing her away from her family, but neither of them could wait another day for her father’s blessing. And though doing this would cause quite a stir in society once it was found out, he didn’t care.
In the end, Kate would agree with his actions. She was of age, twenty-one this past February, so her father would have little say once their marriage was finalized.
He quietly opened the garden door and headed toward Kate’s balcony just as he had the previous evening. After climbing the trellis, he pulled out his pocketknife and slid it between the frame and door to release the lock. It clicked over easily.
Kate’s room was pitch black.
A silent curse left his lips when he kicked a stool with a loud thud. He didn’t need to startle Kate or have her screaming, so he stretched his arms out, hoping to find the bedpost without any more missteps.
“How dare you steal into my room, thief.” Something heavy smacked into the side of his head before he could respond to her accusation.
He swore he saw stars winking across his vision for a moment. When his vision cleared, he could see Kate’s shadow ready to strike another blow.
“Kate, damn it. It’s me.” He wavered where he stood and had to lean against the bench to keep his footing.
Pulling his hood back, he hoped Kate could see him marginally better in the diminished light.
“Oh, no.” The heavy object thudded to the floor as she rushed forward. The soft touch of her hands at his temples and scalp soothed away the pain momentarily. “I’ve put a goose egg on your head.”
He shook his head, dizzy with the motion. “I know. I can feel it.”
“Well, explain what you are doing in my room at this hour. I wouldn’t have hit you had I known you were coming.”
“It was a surprise.“
The warmth of her hands moved away and he could picture her placing her hands on her hips to lecture him properly. “What kind of surprise?”
Well, no sense in beating around the bush with this one. “I have a carriage waiting for us.”
There was a pause of silence from her. Had he misjudged the situation so badly? “To take us where?”
“Gretna Green.”
“I suppose it is too much to ask that we continue to persuade my father.”
“We both know he’ll never agree to a union between us.”
Kate stepped away. “You know my feelings on this, George. Just think how my running away in the middle of the night would devastate my father.”
“And if you don’t take a chance on us, then he’ll ensure you marry that lout, Westmoore.”
“I supposed you have a point. Still . . .”
George walked over to the wardrobe, opening the tall doors to reveal a row of neatly hung dresses. He tossed a few of those dresses toward the bench at the end of her bed.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Getting some clothes ready for you.” He stepped in her direction, finally making out the lines of her wispy frame.
A look of indecision etched her face. This would have been easier had she been asleep and a little less aware of what he was asking of her. In the end, he knew she would have no regrets; right now, it appeared regrets were his biggest obstacle in moving forward with his plan.
She walked over to the side of her bed and knelt on the rug to pull something out from beneath.
“Dearest?”
“A bag,” she answered. “I’ll need a bag for my clothes.”
“As the lady wishes.” He picked out the underclothes from the stack of clothes he’d pulled from her wardrobe and held them in front of him.
She snatched them out of his hand. “Must you be so immature?”
“Indeed, I must.” He waggled his eyebrows and swung the chemise around his finger. “I am, after all, only a man. Let us hurry, I don’t want your father stopping our great escape.”
Both their heads whipped around when something outside Kate’s bedroom door smashed to the ground.
“Damn it. We have just run out of time.” George found a cloak that would cover Kate’s underdressed form, grabbed up the clothes, and stuffed them in the bag she’d provided. He nudged her toward the exit as she drew the strings tight to seal the garment he tossed around her shoulders.
“Your father will have my head if we don’t hurry.”
“This was your grand scheme.”
With a pat to her gently rounded bottom, he ushered her through the bedchamber door and let her lead the way down the stairs. She halted suddenly, causing him to run right into her. She turned around, grabbed him by his cravat, and pushed him behind a heavily curtained window.
“What is it?”
“Someone is about.” She pressed her finger to his mouth to shush him. This was the perfect opportunity to give her a good and proper kiss. Funny how they were eloping when Kate had resoundingly refused on the grounds that her father would never speak to her again and challenge him for the honor of his daughter. Would she balk once they reached the door? He hoped not.
Kate was a prize even George couldn’t walk away from. Not that he’d ever tried walking away from her.
She was sure it was only her imagination that she heard someone wandering down the dark hallway. Though it could very well be a scullery maid, she couldn’t be sure that it wasn’t simply her indecision that had her stalling George in the house awhile longer.
Despite the harsh words her father had spoken to her earlier this evening, guilt weighed her heart down in running away. She wasn’t even sure why she was considering the idea after years of refusing George this very thing. Maybe it had to do with her father blatantly telling her to steer clear of George and focus on the man of his choosing.
She could never forget the one man who held her heart, though, and she’d told her father so. She could no more deny her love for George than she could defy her father—except now that she’d been forced to act for the good of her future. She loved her father dearly, and he’d done everything he could to protect her from the gossip surrounding her mother’s indiscretion, but it was time for him to accept the fact that she was a grown woman and he couldn’t protect her from the world forever.
George’s hand was pressed low on her back, nearly brushing the top of her buttocks through the silky light material of her nightclothes. Her cloak would more than suffice as a shield to her modesty. Not that she felt the need for modesty when George was around.
She took a moment to savor his touch and feel his smooth-shaven cheek pressed to her forehead. When he’d come to her tonight, she knew she needed to act for once without thinking about the consequences.
Almost absently, George tilted her head back and brushed his thumb over her cheek. The moonlight that pierced through the window illuminated his lopsided grin.
She touched her lips to his, and stared into eyes. “You shouldn’t look so smug,” she said, and kissed the tip of his nose.
“Can’t seem to help myself.” He leaned in closer and nibbled at her earlobe.
Her neck arched and her body pressed against his front. She wanted to be touched more intimately, but she could not allow her yearnings to overrule her better judgment. “I love when you do that.”
“I’ll do it all the way to Scotland.” He took a step away from her, grabbed up her hand, and pulled the curtain away. “We must go.”
“I heard someone.”
“Probably only Jason. He’s to keep a path clear through the kitchen.”
“Jason is more likely to distract the maids than misdirec
t my father.” George had introduced her to his oldest friends three years ago on her debut into society. Whenever George traveled to the Caribbean, they were close at hand, keeping her amused at all the balls and soirees. Jason, though, was a rogue and a charmer. Kate had watched women of all ages fall at his feet.
“Matthew is waiting at the carriage.”
He’d persuaded the ever-steady Matthew, a man who avoided scandal like the plague, to aid him in her escape? She pulled George to a stop and threw her arms around his shoulders. Their mouths met roughly, their bodies crushed together. She felt on fire and wanted George to thrust her up against the wall and make good on all his promises of taking their intimacies a step further.
He returned the kiss with a fervor that made her forget her dangerous surroundings, and then he suddenly broke away. “Soon, dearest. Your father will have my head if he catches us.”
“His bark is far worse than his bite.”
“Easy for you to say when he dotes upon you. Me, he would have no hesitation to maim should he be given the opportunity.”
They tiptoed down the long hall that led to the kitchens without another word between them.
Kate’s father stepped out from the doorway, pointing a rapier in George’s direction. A nightcap covered his silver hair, and a burgundy robe hid the telltale signs of a fit, sturdy man even though he was past his prime. Her father was a formidable opponent to any man, young or old.
“What is the meaning of this, Katherine?”
George stepped in front of her when she tried to sidle past him to look her father in the eye. She would not cower beneath her father. Despite his constant attempts to protect her from the world at large, he’d raised her to be a strong woman.
Standing behind George, she had difficulty finding words to defend her actions.
“You’re acting just like your mother.”
Those words stung worse than a colony of bees. Her resolve was made in that moment, and she knew she had to trust in George’s plan. “Papa, did you expect anything less after your harsh words this afternoon?”
“Oh, you are far worse than your mother.”
The gibe stung just as much the second time, and she could not refute it, other than to say, “Lest you’ve forgotten, I’m not married to another. I love George, and I want to marry only him. You’ve refused his suit more times than either of us cares to remember.”