Page 55 of The Dangerous Love of a Rogue
‘Yes.’
He smiled. ‘I like yours too. The blue is so pale your eyes shine like jewels. Your beauty kicks me in the gut each time I see you, Mary.’
Mary looked at her plate. She’d never cared to be complimented on her looks, her entire family had the same appearance. Gentlemen always looked. She found their interest vulgar. She wanted him to like who she was; appreciating her looks was a shallow emotion.
‘I’m sorry. I forgot you do not care to be complimented on your appearance.’
Her gaze lifted.
‘You may compliment me.’If you love me for more than my appearance.
‘Then I consider myself honoured and if any other man compliments you now, I shall knock him down. This is another thing you must know about me – I will not be played.’
‘Played?’ She did not understand.
‘No games, Mary, no beaux, no flirting and no frolics. I will not be cuckolded nor made a mockery of.’ His eyes had changed. The man who looked at her was the man he was among his friends.
She was being warned.
Yet she saw more in him, something deeper in the jet at the heart of his eyes. Fear?
‘I would not—’ she began, intending to reassure him.
‘I know you will not. I shall not allow it.’
‘I would never consider such a thing anyway.’ She would not be told, but she was happy to promise. She sipped from the cup of tea, hiding her disquiet. The Drew she had agreed to marry was the vulnerable man who’d come to the summerhouse. She wished he would let his guard down and be that man. She faced him as she lowered the cup to its saucer. ‘I will not call you Drew. I shall call you Andrew, your real name.’
His eyes widened but he did not look displeased or ask her not to use that name.
He was not a devil. He had faults and felt fear. He was Andrew beneath D-rew’s sharp edges. She hoped the rogue’s veneer would disappear when they were wed.
16
Drew kept the horses at a steady pace. He used more of the money he’d borrowed from Peter at each of the toll gates, his purse draining at a rate of knots. He spoke to the men as he paid, leaving a trail of crumbs they would recall when Mary’s family followed. When they reached Banbury, Drew asked the man at the toll gate to recommend an inn. If Marlow caught up with them earlier than expected he should know where they were.
He turned the horses into the stable yard of the Black Bull, at five in the evening. He could have driven the horses for another three hours but there was little point.
A young lad ran out to take the horses’ heads. The animals whinnied.
Drew looped his reins over the vehicle’s bar, then leapt down. An ostler came forward. He told the man they would be staying the night, and to stable the horses and his carriage. Then turned to help Mary.
She’d slid across to his seat.
They had been mostly silent since luncheon, though she held his arm as he drove. He should have spoken but he disliked the clinical dissection she’d made of him while they ate. He did not like remembering his childhood. He lived for now, and now he lived for her… She was all he wished to think of.
Her slender fingers held his firmly to steady herself as she climbed down.
When she reached the cobbles, he tugged her close and kissed her lips. It was the only thing he could think to do to ease the awkwardness his silence created.
She blushed.
In a couple of hours, they would be in bed. Heat flared in his stomach and his breath caught in his lungs… The surge of emotion he was becoming used to, in her presence, ripped through him. Only today it was a dozen times stronger. Lust. Need. Responsibility. Caring. Hope. Fear.
Do I love her?His heartbeat thundered.
Turning away, still holding her hand, he drew her with him.
He ordered dinner served in their room and French wine to accompany it.
