Page 63 of The Dangerous Love of a Rogue
But there had been the day she’d said she’d seen him in the park too. The day she had acted out of character and ridden alone early one morning. She’d never gone out at that hour before and she’d never gone again.
Yet Mary was sensible – level-headed… She would not.Lord, I pray she would not have been fooled by a fortune hunter.
He knew elopement was Ellen’s fear too. But Mary had been fixed on Lord Farquhar and hurt by him… had she not?
She would not have…
Or, was her distress caused by something else, someone else?
He knocked on the door of John’s rooms.
‘What have you done?’ Edward whispered bitterly as he pictured his first child in his mind’s eye as an infant in his arms.
‘Come in!’ John called for Edward to enter.
19
Mary believed Andrew loved her. While he drove the curricle on steadily through the green English landscape, her thigh pressed against his and her hand held his arm.
He had made love to her again just before dawn, kissing her throughout, whispering endearments over her lips, his pace excruciatingly slow. He had said, ‘I love you’ again and again.
It was not his words that convinced her; it was the gentleness of his touch. He had been mindful of her soreness. Then at the end stroked her hair back from her forehead, his eyes telling her how beautiful he thought her.
Afterwards, he slept, while Mary lay awake.
When he had woken it was full daylight. He’d got up, washed and dressed. Then helped her dress and kissed her nape while she pinned up her hair, saying, ‘I love you’ again, against her skin. She had turned and said it to him too, then kissed him for a long time before they left the room to eat breakfast downstairs.
She ate heartily, because her stomach was calmer. He had teased her over her sudden appetite. Then rose, walked about the table and licked the bacon grease from her lips.
The tenderness in that gesture still wrapped around her. It was a gentle sensation, like the weight and embrace of a shawl that constantly reminded her she was loved and she knew love to its full extent – in the expression of its ultimate physical act.
20
A tight pain bit hard in Edward’s gut when the carriage drew to a halt before John’s ostentatious townhouse. Dawn had broken as they travelled, flushing the sky pink. Now it was full light, and the sky an azure blue.
If Mary is not here…
That was a thought he had refused to consider during the journey.
John rose from the opposite carriage seat. He had chosen to accompany them, leaving Kate with the children. He opened the door to alight. A footman was already there, setting down the step. John turned and offered his hand to his mother. Ellen descended hurriedly, asking the footman, ‘Is my daughter here?’
The man looked blankly at her.
‘Is Miss Mary here?’ Edward asked.She had to be.
‘Miss Marlow left with you, sir, a day ago. She has not returned. I did not think she was expected.’
The answer hit Edward like a fist to the stomach.
‘Have the stables quickly saddle horses for myself and His Grace.’ Perhaps Mary was at the Smithfields after all and Eleanor was mistaken.
The footman had not moved. ‘Horses! Now! Run!’ Edward barked.
The man ran.
Edward looked at John. ‘We will ride to Smithfield’s. If she is not there his daughter may know where she is.’
Ellen looked sickly pale. ‘I will go to her room.’ She rushed up the steps to the house. The porter had opened the door. ‘Perhaps she left a letter.’
