The Marriage Bargain

by Blaise Kilgallen

  “I-I think so,” she murmured, finally drawing in a full breath. She met the concerned expression in the earl’s ebony eyes.

  “It was only a kiss or two, Emily,” he said, a corner of his lips turning up in a smile. “I hope I didn’t frighten you when I kissed you, I mean?”

  “It’s…no, of course, not. It was only that you startled me is all,” she gulped. The earl’s kisses had curled toes inside her dancing slippers. Emily’s heart ricocheted from side to side in her chest.

  It wasn’t just a kiss, either. It felt like a good deal more. She hadn’t given him an answer. Good! She still had time.

  “If I did frighten you, Emily, forgive me.”

  “Err…my lord, I believe Wilma will be looking for me…for us, I mean.” Her voice steadied as she cleared her throat. She spoke a little louder. “We are supposed to meet the Porters at supper.”

  “Yes, of course. You are quite correct.”

  His cock was thick as a tree branch against his breeches. He needed to stay where he was on the balcony for a few moments. “Err…go in to supper, Emily. I’ll…umm…join you shortly.”

  He was in no condition to be seen in public until his body part calmed down.

  “Oh, there you are!” Wilma called out seeing Emily enter the supper room. She waved her toward the table Harry had saved for the four of them. “Where is Leathem?” she asked. “I thought he was with you.”

  “He’ll be here in a moment,” Emily said as Harry pulled out a chair for her.

  Harry greeted the earl a few minutes later when Gavin made it to their table.

  “Shall I fix you a plate?” the earl asked Emily.

  “Oh, please do. Thank you,” she said, folding her hands in her lap.

  “I say, Leathem, hold on,” Harry said. “I’ll go with you. M’wife wants some more of those crab pasties she likes.”

  The pair of noblemen strode side by side to buffet tables laden with banquet fare—soup tureens, huge silver platters of braised vegetables, meat patties, lobster and crab patties, creamed oysters, boats of thick, brown gravy and other spicy sauces, braised beef and baked ham, roast capons and duck—all were elegant fare for the Carlisles’ spectacular midnight supper. Centered on one table sat a magnificent ice sculpture of a rearing horse surrounded on its base with a ring of colorful blossoms. Servants must have plucked a magnificent variety of blooms from the duke and duchess’s huge, glass enclosed conservatory to do so.

  A small army of liveried servants stood ready to dispense food as the house guests chatted and meandered along the buffet tables. Footmen weaved amongst tables, refilling glasses with bubbling champagne. The two nobles chatted in the buffet line while Emily and Wilma bent their heads together and whispered.

  “Where were you, Em? We wondered,” Wilma queried in a stage whisper.

  “The earl wanted a breath of air before coming into supper.”

  “Oh? And what did you talk about while you were out on the balcony?”

  “We…scarcely spoke at all.” Emily quickly changed the topic. “Do you mind if I ask you something personal, Willy?”

  “I s’pose not. At least until I hear what it is.”

  “Well, what I wish to ask is…how do you feel…when Lord Harry kisses you?”

  “Emmie! Such a question!” Wilma’s eyebrows arched. But then, she smiled coyly. “Umm, I must say that my Harry’s kisses are quite stirring, you silly baggage! His lips are soft and warm. And they feel…heavenly pressing on mine.” Quickly, Wilma countered sharply with a question of her own. “Why do you ask?” Her eyebrows curved up again. “Oh, come on! You have to tell me! Did the earl kiss you while you were on the balcony?” Wilma’s eyes sparked with avid curiosity.

  “He did,” Emily responded.

  “And?” Wilma’s expression was eager as she waited, eyes glued on her friend’s face. When Emily didn’t answer quickly enough, Wilma persisted. “So—did you agree to his offer?”

  Emily shook her head, rather forcibly. “No. I’m still thinking about it.”

  “You mean he kissed you, and you didn’t agree?” Wilma groaned loud enough to be heard by a group at the next table whose heads turned to listen. “Oh, Em-ily, why not? I thought for certain the earl’s kisses would be expert enough to turn the tables.”

  Emily said, “Perhaps, they are, but I cannot compare since I’ve never been kissed before. And…Willy, yes, I like him. A lot. It’s just…well, I just don’t want to agree simply because I must.” Emily blinked hard and looked away, her gaze peering at the earl and Lord Harry who were standing at the buffet tables.

  “I never dreamt I’d hear a marriage proposal from Leathem. But it’s a business agreement, Wilma. Nothing like your proposal from Lord Harry. But do you understand why I’m not sure if I should agree? And, by the same token, how can I not agree after he saved me from my uncle?”

  Wilma was about to bring up other reasons when Emily shushed her. “Don’t you dare say what I just told you, Willy! Please!”

  Just then, the men returned carrying full plates. Soon supper ended, and the orchestra was heard tuning their instruments for more dancing as guests strolled back into the ballroom.

  Wilma and Emily excused themselves to the ladies’ withdrawing room. The place was empty. There Wilma turned and hugged Emily. “Emmie, dear, I so want you to be happy. As happy as I am. I have my fingers crossed that you’d say yes to the earl, but I’ll say no more. I’m simply hoping you’ll make a wise choice.”

  * * * *

  Meanwhile, outside on the balcony, Harry lit a cigar, puffing on it contentedly as the two men waited for the women to rejoin them. “M’wife wanted to visit m’in-laws and her sister while we were in Surrey, but we learned they’re in Scotland. Ever been there, Leathem?”

  Leathem pursed his lips around his cheroot and blew a perfect smoke ring. “Never. Someday, perhaps. What about you, Porter?”

  “Don’t expect to. ‘Nuff things right here to do in jolly old England,” the viscount said, gazing over the park’s shadowy woods and fields stretching beyond the castle’s walls. “I say, Leathem, while I think on it. M’wife and me are staying in Town for the Season. I hope to see you at some of those bloody affairs after we leave here.”

  “Perhaps,” Gavin responded, dodging a definite ‘yes’.

  “I didn’t see you at the club these past weeks,” Lord Harry muttered. “Hate to lose touch with m’friends, y’know.”

  While they puffed at their cigars, Gavin’s mind wandered. He responded only half-heartedly when the viscount discoursed on London’s current happenings. He leaned his backside against the balustrade and blew several more perfect smoke rings. The lust that hardened his cock earlier still felt somewhat uncomfortable as he mused silently. He had managed to dodged commitment for two decades, mostly by frequenting the demimonde. Not once did he risk his heart. Now, less than a week ago, he had offered young Emily Dancy a marriage bargain. He never thought to tumble headlong into love. Surely, it must to be a simple case of lust—and needing to be satisfied. Was it not? Love was something he vowed to avoid to keep his heart safe and unscathed. Yet feelings more than untamed desire burned wildly inside him when he kissed Emily. Those urges had been so intense that they nearly overwhelmed his noble intentions. But then, he had reminded himself that love was not the same thing as lust. He learned that bitter lesson during his first go-round with marriage. Giving one’s heart away was a sure way to end up in hell.

  What if he made another stab at it though? What if he tossed his heart up for grabs? Would Emily catch it like a wedding bouquet?

  * * * *

  Wilma located the men waiting on the balcony. “I left Emily with young Witherspoon,” she said, adding a chuckle. “He claimed her for his final set. The orchestra just struck up a lively country reel. A waltz should end Carlisle’s ball.”

  Wilma stood between the men gazing into the night sky. “Oh, it has been a grand and exciting week, h
as it not?” She queried both of them, although her words were meant mainly for the earl. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, Leathem, but I am curious about something. What did you think when you arrived here and saw your ward’s governess at Carlisle’s party?”

  She didn’t wait to hear his immediate answer, but went on. “You know, my good friend, Emily, had never been far from our village. Not until her uncle dragged her to London after both of her parents died. She and I may never have met again if we hadn’t bumped against to each other on Regent Street. I am so very glad that fate had something to do with it.” Wilma tapped the earl’s arm lightly with her folded fan. “And I’m rather glad, too, that you allowed her to come with us to the duke’s festivities. I sincerely hope, Leathem, that we shall continue our friendship. The ton is so pesky about such things.”

  “To answer your question, Lady Wilma, I was astounded to see your friend here. But it allowed me a deeper acquaintanceship with Miss Dancy. A new level of knowledge growing between us since London. I learned Miss Dancy…Emily…is quite an extraordinary young lady.” Leathem met Wilma’s eyes directly. “She may no longer be my ward’s governess when we return to London.”

  Did Emily discuss my marriage offer with the viscountess, I wonder?

  “Oh, I hope, Leathem, you don’t sack her for showing up at the house party!” Wilma smirked.

  “No, of course, I certainly did not,” Gavin responded with a humorous twitch of his lips. “Miss Dancy attempted to leave her post with me before, primarily because of her uncle’s criminal behavior and incarceration. But I didn’t permit her to resign even then.”

  “Has she told you she will leave her position now, as your ward’s governess?”

  “No, but your and Porter’s friendship will never be a problem for Emily, Lady Wilma. Miss Dancy, has…a new family history. I imagine she told you that she inherited a tidy sum from her aristocratic grandmother.”

  I wonder if Wilma suspects what is to be decided tonight. Probably. The two are like two peas in a pod.

  Wilma smiled. “Yes. She told me. And I knew Emily’s mother, Grace Dancy. She was quite beautiful and brought up to be a lady. I believe she married for love, not status, because John Dancy was a tradesman.” She chuckled. “Yes, Emily is no longer penniless, and her grandfather, Squire Henry Morrow, can ascertain her status, if need be, in England’s hierarchy.”

  The earl responded with another tiny smile. “Your friend inherited her beauty from her mother. But she inherited her courage as well. And I need not tell you that if she hasn’t informed you, just what she went through with Eustace Dancy.”

  “Yes, my lord, she did. Harry and I can scarcely believe all of what happened to her. And, she explained how you saved her from a horrible mauling because of her beast of an uncle. We can only express our sincere thanks, Leathem, because, you see, Emily is quite special to both Harry and me.”

  Leathem bowed slightly and replied, “I agree with you both completely. Emily is special.”

  And I promise to keep her safe and happy when she agrees to be my wife.

  The orchestra ended the country dance, and Wilma grabbed Harry’s arm for the final waltz. Gavin followed them off the balcony to the ballroom. Emily spotted the trio coming through the French doors and asked young Witherspoon to escort her over to them. He bowed, and thanked Emily politely for sharing the dance. “It was my pleasure, sir,” she said, dipping a quick curtsy to the lanky peer.

  Turning to the Porters and Leathem, Emily fluttered a fan before her face. “I must say, that young man is certainly a robust dancer.” Emily laughed as the young lord walked off. “He has left me quite out of breath.”

  It was at that moment that members of the orchestra laid their instruments down, and the Duke and Duchess of Carlisle mounted the few steps to the raised dais and turned to face their house guests. The duke raised his hands to quiet the noisy hubbub from the ballroom floor.

  “Ladies and gentleman,” he said with a wide smile. “All my good friends, I hope you all enjoyed your stay with us this week.”

  Polite applause flickered across the elegant room.

  “It was our genuine pleasure to have you here with us." He darted a sidewise glance at his wife, the duchess. "We are both hopeful to meet you again very soon, in London, during the upcoming Season.”

  More applause.

  “Meanwhile…” The duke paused and glanced back briefly at the orchestra. “It is time for the last waltz this evening. But first, I wish you all a goodnight, and God Bless England, our great monarch, and his royal family. And, of course, I wish you all a safe journey home when you leave us.” The duke smiled and again turned to his duchess. “I will now lead my lady into the waltz with the rest of you. Shall we, my dear?” Finishing his brief farewell speech, the aging duke led his duchess onto the ballroom’s floor.

  Emily barely had time to breathe after romping about the ballroom with Lord Witherspoon. It took a minute for Emily’s heartbeat to settle as she fanned her heated cheeks. The earl’s bold initials were inscribed on her dance card as well as on her mind. The waltz music began almost immediately. Couples were already dancing.

  “Shall we, m’dear?” Harry asked, leading Wilma onto the crowded floor.

  “My lord…” Emily began, hoping for another postponement.

  “It’s Gavin, remember?” the earl whispered as he took her elbow and guided her into the waltz. Decision time was upon them. Gavin felt himself sweating. He dreamt last night of making love to Emily—lying beneath him, warm, eager, and willing. And he came close to losing control even tonight when he kissed her passionately on the balcony. Yes, it was lust…but it felt much more than that. During the past week Emily Dancy had become very important to him. Not because she might help to launch Lilianne’s come out, but because when he was with her, she made him feel young and carefree again. At first he envisioned a dull marriage of convenience. Now he realized his marriage to Emily would be anything but dull, convenient, or businesslike.

  It stunned him how very much he wanted this woman in his life. He hoped tonight to say the words that would open the key to her heart. He wanted to be with her, watching her smile, hearing her girlish giggles. And he wanted her in his bed each and every night, warm and willing, and when he awoke each morning. Young, sweet, courageous and welcoming—Emily—his countess. He had tried to banish the powerful, erotic visions his mind presented him with, but he was obsessed by a potent stream of desire rushing through him each day. He couldn’t let her go.

  “Is something wrong?” Emily asked, noticing an odd movement of his head as they waltzed. “Did I tromp on your toes?”

  “No. No, of course not. I was just…I’m…well, I’m anxious to hear what you have to tell me, that’s all.”

  Yes, of course, he would be…and I don’t blame him. Gavin’s words reached her ears as he spun her into another twirling turn and danced her out through the French doors for a second time tonight. Her heart pounded like a kettle drum as she inhaled a breath of the night’s cool air.

  “Tell me you won’t hedge, Emily. You promised to tell me what I wish to hear. Will you or will you not agree to my proposal?”

  She drew in a short breath and swallowed when Gavin halted them on the balcony. “What other answer can there be, my lord? Since I promised to help with Lilianne’s come out.”

  Gavin’s forehead wrinkled. “That wasn’t what I asked you, Emily. Marrying me is part of the bargain.”

  She stuttered a bit before continuing. “My lord…Leathem, Gavin. Please forgive me. So much has happened during the past few days that I haven’t had time enough to be certain what I should do…”

  “Have you decided not to wed me?”

  “I haven’t decided anything. Oh, goodness gracious, my lord, must I tell you right this minute—one way or the other?” Emily winced. “I’m dreadfully sorry. I hoped your aunt would sponsor Lilianne, but if you want me to stay on, I will do what I can to help.�
� She took another deep breath. “But I am worried about our…marriage bargain. I’m not sure I can live with its terms. I wish to consider it from a different prospective.” She blinked rapidly. “Perhaps I’ll visit my grandfather again before I decide."

  No! I won’t let you go!

  “Emily, my aunt won’t do as a sponsor. She’s tied to a rolling chair and can’t make calls or attend the ton’s usual elegant doings in order to sponsor her. And Lilianne must be out and about to attract husband material. I can escort her to some festivities, yes, but with my countess at my side, too, it will greatly enhance her consequence.”

  “I understand that, but…”

  The earl frowned, his expression unfavorable. “Stop, right there.” He raised his hands, palms out, to quell her next response. “First, hear me out.”

  Gavin captured Emily’s gloved hands, peering down at her with unswerving intensity. “Something tells me I should not let you go, or I will rue the day.” A corner of his mouth lifted in a wry smile. “I believe you and I are already friends, but if I promise to spend more time with you and Lilianne when we return to London, will it help?”

  Finally, Emily nodded, but slowly. Her gaze never left Leathem’s face. His disappointment was obvious when she dodged answering now and asked for her decision to wait a bit longer. Aristocratic arrogance altered Leathem’s countenance, but she noted flames of desire still burning in his dark eyes. So, she listened attentively to what else he had to say.

  “Ask me what concerns or worries you have about our bargain, and I swear I shall answer them as best I can, my dear. And…however it plays out, yes, I can wait a bit longer to hear your answer.” The earl squeezed Emily’s fingers almost painfully. “Tell me you didn’t make up your mind against me.”

  Emily tilted her head to the side, studying his face—his handsome, chiseled countenance. He requested another chance to win her compliance. She knew the earl would never beg. It had never been his personality to do so. But what he said just now opened her mind and heart to some wishful thinking. Perhaps, there was yet a happy and satisfactory future ahead for them.