Page 47 of Married to the Rake

Chapter Seventeen

Chloe bit back a scream. For one awful moment, she thought she had been caught. Which had been highly likely considering her plan had been extremely ill thought out. When she had realised her mother would give her no support against her father, she had hastened to Brook’s house with little care for the consequences. Her father would be angry if she was, but what could be the worst that he could do? Marry her off to Mr Lawrence immediately? She loathed arguing with her parents, but this was wrong, and her father knew it.

Of course, she did not even know where Brook’s room was or if he would even be there.

So, running into him had been fortuitous indeed.

Brook gripped her arms and glanced around. “What are you doing here?”

“I needed to see you,” she said breathlessly, bending double for a moment to draw breath. It was not just her hasty journey that made her lungs burn. Desperation seemed to sear her insides. Of all fates, marriage to a stranger had always seemed the worst. She had witnessed it happen to friends but never did she expect it to become her fate.

He glanced her over. “Did you run here?”

No doubt she looked as flustered and as unkempt as she felt.

His expression darkened. “What’s wrong, Chlo? Has someone harmed you? By the devil, I’ll— “

“No!” She pressed her palms to his chest. The instant comfort that came from feeling the strength beneath his clothing rolled through her and she let her forehead fall against him. He rubbed a hand up and down her back and she counted his even breaths as her own body rose and fell with them. She peered up at him, absorbing the sight of his strong jaw slightly darkened by stubble and his concerned expression.

Chloe straightened. Lord, she loved this man. How could he possibly be pretending such care? “My father…I…” She drew in a long breath. “Oh, Brook, it is terrible.”

“Come with me.” Keeping a grip on her arm, he led her away from the house to a secluded part of the garden, where they were surrounded by neatly trimmed box trees. A stone bench, tucked away amongst the trees, offered seclusion. Pink roses framed the nook and teased her senses with their sweet fragrance.

He motioned for her to sit. The stone bench felt cool against her heated skin. Only now did she realize how fatigued she was. Pushing a hand through his dark hair, Brook sat next to her. A peaceful hush fell over them and Chloe appreciated the few moments to gather herself, even though she could see Brook was desperate to understand what was wrong. His tightly laced hands and fidgeting feet gave him away. Nearby, a bee dipped into a flower and she watched it enter and retreat before twisting on the bench to face Brook.

He turned to her and brought a hand to her face, lifting her chin. A tiny thrill rushed its way through her, making her limbs feel soft and weak. Sweet Lord, she hoped he still feltthingsfor her, she hoped she was not too late. She hoped she was not entirely wrong about him.

“What has happened?”

She gulped down a long breath. “My father…he wants me to marry.” Her voice broke on the last word.

“I see.” His tone was hollow.

“He…he found out about me spending time with you.” Her chin wobbled. “He wishes me to marry Mr. James Lawrence.” Chloe made a face. “He knows we would not be happy, he knows I have no desire to marry the man. But he is insisting.” She shook her head. “I do not know what happened to him.”

“I think I do. He would rather you be married off to some octogenarian than me.”

“I do not think Mr. Lawrence is an octogenarian.”

“You really want to argue with me now?”

She gave a soft chuckle and shook her head. “I really do not.”

“Chloe,” he looked at her intensely, “is it merely Mr. Lawrence’s age that means you do not wish to marry him?”

“No,” she admitted softly. “It is not just his age nor the fact I do not know the man, nor the fact that it would be an arranged marriage.” She glanced at her hands. “It is because you were right.”

Silence echoed between them. Above, a bird tweeted in one of the trees. The wind lightly ruffled the leaves of a grand old oak tree in front of them. Chloe risked a glance up at him to find his lips tilted in that awful, arrogant smile that made her want to swipe it from his face.

“Well, there is no need to look at me like that.”

“I cannot help it. I think it is the first time you have ever admitted that I was right.”

“And is that all you have to say about it?” Her heart nearly pounded out of her chest. Was he going to simply use this confession to tease her?

“No. No, it is not all I have to say about that.” He shifted closer to her and cupped her face in both his hands. She closed her eyes briefly to savor the warm touch. When she opened them again, he was looking at her with more desire and love than she ever thought possible.

“Run away with me.”

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