Page 68 of Bad Luck Bride

“Damn it, Devlin, don’t just stand there agreeing with me! Come up with a plan. How are we to counteract all this? What do we tell the papers? Our friends? How shall we keep me from being a scandal all over again?”

Maybe it was the aftereffects of last night’s alcoholic excess. Or maybe, even all these hours later, he was still slightly drunk. Either way, there was no denying the sudden exhilaration he felt. A bit like taking a leap into space. But it was the only thing to be done.

He took a deep breath and burned his boats. “The answer to all this is pretty obvious, isn’t it? Pam and Rycroft have gone off together, have they? All right, then. Why don’t we?”

He tossed aside the paper and reached for her hands. “Let’s get married.”

13

Get married?” Kay stared at him, unable to believe what she was hearing. “You and me? Are you out of your mind?”

For some unfathomable reason, he laughed. “On the contrary, I don’t think I’ve ever been saner.”

Much to Kay’s astonishment, he sank down on one knee. “Lady Kay Matheson, will you marry me?”

“No.” She snatched her hands away. “For God’s sake, Devlin, do get up. You’re being ridiculous,” she added when he shook his head and remained where he was.

“I’m not. I’m dead serious now, Kay. The two of us getting married makes perfect sense.”

“As much sense as flying pigs or a flock of Amazonian parrots landing atop St. Paul’s Cathedral,” she muttered. “I was hoping—foolishly, perhaps—that you’d have something reasonable to suggest.”

“Marrying me is perfectly reasonable.”

“I’ve had enough of this nonsense. I’m leaving.” She stepped around him and started toward the door, but he rose and followedher. When she tried to open the door he flattened one palm against it and pushed it shut again.

Heaving a sigh, she turned around, placed her back flush against the door, and lifted her chin, staring him down. “Detaining a woman against her will is truly beyond the pale. But from a scoundrel like you, it’s not surprising, I suppose.”

“Just hear me out, please. That’s all I ask.”

“Do I have a choice?”

He smiled, not the least bit apologetic. “Not really, no.”

At the sight of that smile, her throat went dry and her stomach gave a nervous dip. It was the same dazzling smile he’d given her the first time he’d ever seen her at Lady Rowland’s ball, the same smile that had captured her heart, had persuaded her into meeting him for secret assignations behind her parents’ backs, had beguiled her into eloping with him to Gretna Green and running off with him to Africa, and at the sight of it now, Kay felt the exact same sensation she had felt then: a combination of overwhelming pleasure and stark terror.

How ghastly to think she was still susceptible to his charms. Hadn’t she learned her lesson by now, in heaven’s name?

She scowled. “Keeping me here by force, are you? And to think only a week or two ago you accused Wilson of being a bully. A case of the pot and the kettle if ever there was one.”

Her point, of course, sailed right past him. “You came here asking for a solution,” he said. “Well, I’ve offered you one. If we got married, that would resolve every problem you mentioned. For one thing, it would take the wind out of everyone’s sails and leave them with nothing scandalous to talk about.”

He was probably right about that, but she’d have died rather than admit it.

“In fact,” he went on in the wake of her silence, “everyone will probably deem our marriage a fitting end to this business.”

“Fitting?” she echoed, trying to sound as scornful as possible, but much to her chagrin, the word came out as an unimpressive squeak.

“Yes. Fitting. Our fiancés have betrayed us. What better solution, people will say, than for us to find consolation in each other?”

Kay pushed away any stupid girlish flutterings about his smile by taking a deep, steadying breath, reminding herself of all the ways he’d managed to make her life hell over the years. “Given that I’d be irrevocably tied to you for the rest of my life,” she said, folding her arms, “I see no consolations here at all.”

“Ah, but there are a few,” he murmured, leaning closer, so close that his lips almost brushed hers. “If I kissed you, you’d remember some of them.”

Kissing him had never failed to get her into trouble, and for him to use those kisses as leverage to bring her to heel now was damnable. “You are as conceited as you are crazy.”

“Am I? Let’s test that theory.” His lips touched hers, and her heart gave a hard, panicked thump in her chest, but then he stopped and drew back a little. “Well? Is your memory stirring, or do you need more evidence?”

“My only memory is realizing how big a mistake I almost made fourteen years ago.” Kay unfolded her arms and pushed his outward to free herself from his embrace. Much to her relief, his arms fell to his sides, and he took a step back. “I have no intention of making it again.”

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