Page 34 of The Devil and the Heiress
The depth of her newfound affection for him was so acute and sudden that Violet was certain it couldn’t be real. Infatuation was often mistaken for love, wasn’t it? That’s what terrified her so much. She would act on her feelings only to find they weren’t real. Worse, she would act on them only to discover that, rogue that he was known to be, he had played upon her affections. Despite her longing, she hadcome to the conclusion that she must be wise in the days ahead.
She would go to Windermere as planned, but she would write to him immediately. If he replied and their correspondence continued, she would propose that perhaps he might court her. She wouldn’t come out and say it, of course. She would have to find some way to hint at it, to tease his thoughts on the matter out of him. If that went well, then she would gently, after the proper time had passed, propose they marry.
The very idea of it sent butterflies of doubt and anticipation swirling in her belly. She would have to marry at some point, and she did want a marriage for herself. Children and a home of her own had always been something she planned for her future. Of course, she had always assumed she would find a husband in New York, far away from this current madness. But now she could think of none better than Lord Leigh to be her husband.
No, she was getting ahead of herself. Marriage was not something she should be thinking about now. He could very well continue to Scotland and forget about her. They would start with correspondence, and she would simply wait to see how things developed from there. It was her own excitable nature making her imagine this lush and extravagant future between them. Only she seemed to have no control over her imagination. Every time she closed her eyes, she dreamed of him.
“You’re not sleeping, Miss Crenshaw.”
She grinned and opened her eyes to see him smiling at her from across the carriage. “No. It is impossible to sleep in this steel conveyance of torture.”
He laughed, his eyes shining. “It is not quite dark yet, but I thought we should stop at the town ahead. The rain is heavier now, and Peterson tells me that the roads are becoming treacherous. We have made good time despite the weather.”
“That sounds wonderful. Now if only they have a proper bath and hot water, it would be heavenly.”
His eyes deepened. There was no other way to describe them. They darkened somehow and became more intent and serious. He had given her that same look several times now on the trip, and it never failed to make her breasts feel heavier and an ache begin deep within her.
“I will make certain of it,” he said.
A naughty image of him joining her in the bath flitted across her mind. Did people do that, or was she being depraved? It hardly mattered; she could close her eyes and dream of whatever she wished with no one being the wiser.
“Come and sit with me.” He shifted a bit to make room. “Allow my shoulder to be your pillow.”
“I couldn’t.” But she was already moving. The seat was warm from his body heat. An inviting cloud of his scent enveloped her. Spicy with an undertone of woodsy. She wanted to bury her nose in his neck. She managed to only rest her cheek against his shoulder, and he slouched down a bit to help her get more comfortable. Their hips touched. She shifted slightly to ensure that her thigh pressed against his as much as it was able.
With a sigh of longing, she closed her eyes. Sleep wouldn’t come, not with her stomach swirling in delight and her blood thrumming through her veins, but she would enjoy this moment as long as it lasted.
Chapter 12
Lord Lucifer had plotted well. Even if he wanted to change course now, the scheme drew breath all on its own.
V. Lennox,An American and the London Season
Christian knew that he had made the wrong decision. That morning’s conversation with Peterson mocked him. They had been securing the horses while waiting for Violet to emerge from the inn. The dark clouds in the sky had promised another day of damnable rain.
“The turn off for the road to go north to Scotland is up ahead. Do we take it, milord?”
Christian had glanced toward the inn’s door to make certain he wouldn’t be overheard. “Yes. We go to Scotland.”
Even then, his hesitation had been minute. Violet was infatuated with him. It was obvious in how she looked at him, and how she flirted even though she probably didn’t realize she was doing it. He had kept his hands to himself as much as he was able, but she still sought him out. Her fingers would brush his as they walked, or her hand would rest on his arm at the table. Her eyes were dilated with a simmering desire. She wanted him.
He would ask her tonight to become his wife. He shouldhave done it sooner, especially after their talk about the secret chamber at Montague. His only excuse for waiting was the guilt. It had been clawing at him with sharp daggers of accusation. His bold plan for coercion and seduction had been wrecked by his growing affection for the woman.
Now it had come to this. He would be forced into another half-truth. If they took the road north without her agreement, then one could argue it would be akin to kidnapping. However, he hadn’t left himself much of a choice. The only solution was to take her north now.
Christian’s hand fisted on his thigh as he resisted the urge to reach up and touch her where she lay so trustingly against his arm. This mad dash away from London had come to represent more to him than a means to an end. He was now seeing a glimmer of the sort of life he could have with her. There would be no more nights alone, no more of the interminable silence that chased him from Amberley Park. She could be with him.
But not if he ruined this. He was afraid. Afraid that he would ask and she would say no, perhaps not quite ready to commit herself to him because her feelings were new. Or that she might say yes, but want to wait to get married. He could argue the need for haste all he wanted, but he could not force her hand. The problem was that he very much needed her to say yes and be willing to marry in Scotland.
Her breath came in soft sighs. He closed his eyes as he listened, her scent rising up around him. He would propose to her tonight. If he could gain her agreement, then there would be no need to explain to her his minor indiscretion in taking her on the Scotland road. He would simply press upon her the need for haste in their marriage. He had to believe that she would understand that.
And if she did not... He could not even consider the alternative.
Before he could think better of it, his hand moved from his thigh to where hers rested in her lap. He wrapped hisfingers around hers, his heart pounding against his rib cage when she responded simply by squeezing his hand. They sat there in the silence of the carriage, neither of them daring to move as their palms touched and their fingers laced together. For a man who had bedded countless women in his life, it was a moment of such profound intimacy that he hardly dared to breathe for fear of ruining it. This sweet creature would be his.
An odd and terrible splintering rent through the evening air, invading their cocoon. Peterson yelled, but it wasn’t a warning. It was a high-pitched sound of sheer terror. Christian sat up and pushed the curtains back in time to see the dark green and black of a large oak unnaturally filling the distance between the carriage and the bluff he knew was beyond. A branch shattered the glass, sending it spraying across the carriage. He shifted to shield Violet from the shards as much as he could, but the weight of the giant tree sent the vehicle sliding sideways. The road was so waterlogged from recent rains that it had become a mud slick, which had caused them to slide a few times already. This, however, sent them into a full-fledged skate across the road.
“Hold on!” He shifted, grabbing onto the leather strap above the broken window so that Violet could take his place, safely away from the jagged glass protruding from the sill.
