Page 19 of The Dangerous Love of a Rogue
Her fingers clawed on his shoulder and in his hair, clinging, as a whimpering sound left her lips. He silenced her with a kiss. She could not kiss him back, she had no strength. She had exploded and fallen from the sky.
A sound of amusement, half laugh, came from his throat, slipping into her mouth as he drew away.
The sound of the orchestra warming up their instruments broke them apart. The supper hour was over.
The French doors opened, and voices drifted outside. People must be crowding into the ballroom to dance. Some walked out on to the terrace for fresh air.
Her heart pounded. The confusion of fear and bewilderment mingled. She had no idea what had just happened.
The orchestra struck up a melody.
She could not see his face or his eyes but his fingers touched her cheek and his thumb stroked back and forth across her chin.
‘I could make a sound and have someone find us like this,’ he whispered.
‘Is that what you want to do?’ she asked.
She breathed heavily, still disorientated.
He was breathing heavily too.
His thumb touched her lips. She was not afraid, even though shedid not really know him.
‘I want you,’ he answered, in a hushed voice. ‘I want you as my wife.’
‘You want my dowry.’
‘I want you and your dowry. I know your brother hates the idea of a man in need of a fortune, but he has one. It is hardly a crime to need to marry wealth, just circumstance. But any of three dozen heiresses could bring me money. I want you, Mary.’
She smiled, knowing the darkness hid it, but his thumb was still on her lips. ‘You could choose a military career and work for your living.’
‘I have no money to buy a commission. But if you would follow the drum, I might sign up.’
‘The clergy then…’
‘Me, a vicar. Are you mad? That would never work.’ A scoffing rumble of amusement growled in his throat.
She chuckled. ‘I must be, I am here with you.’
His thumb and forefinger tilted her chin up. ‘Will you agree to marry me?’
‘I barely know you, and you have an awful reputation.’
This time his amusement erupted as a proper laugh which someone might hear. ‘Guilty as charged, I will not deny it, but those days are in the past. Get to know me, and know one thing for certain, I will marry you.’
‘For money…’
‘Money, yes. I need it. I am not lying to you. But as I said, not only for your fortune.’ His lips brushed hers, weaving enchantment, fogging her mind.
She forced herself to turn her head. ‘And if I had no fortune…’
He did not answer, but he had said he would not lie, and that was the way of life for her class. There were three dozen men in her uncle’s ballroom without expectation of inheritance or the desire to shoot other men on a battlefield, or the inclination to preach. All those men needed to marry for money.
She pushed him away. ‘I must go. I will be missed.’
‘When can I meet you again? Where? Do you ride in the mornings, in Hyde Park? What if I were there at nine, would you come?’
Male voices, engaged in conversation, came out from the ballroom on to the terrace.
