Page 82 of Unmasking a Wicked Marquess
Urged forward by her tone, Robert approached Philip and extended his hand. At first, Philip looked at that hand as if it was some shocking, awful thing, not an offer of friendship.
“I am sorry,” Robert said, his tone deep and genuine. “I know I cannot make up for nineteen years’ worth of animosity in such a single apology. Nor can I make up for the insult I made when I accused you of cheating, but knowing everything I know now, I want you to understand … I am truly sorry.”
Philip looked between the hand and his wife.
“Philip,” Amelia’s tone was as warning as Cecily’s had been.
Slowly, Philip took the hand.
***
Juliet pulled the horse to a stop. She stood at the bottom of the track road that led to Edward’s house, only to see that she was clearly not far behind him.
He’d not yet made it to the house. Having released his horse, he trundled slowly towards the front stoop. Rather than going inside, he sat down on the step in the rain instead.
“Edward?” Juliet called to him.
His head snapped up. The surprise on his feet, the parted lips, and the wide eyes meant everything to her. They gave her hope as she raced her horse down the track. Edward sprang to his feet as she pulled her horse up alongside his own.
“I think we finally have our answer to that question,” she called to him with a smile. “To have caught you up so swiftly, I must be the faster rider of the two of us.”
He didn’t smile. He looked dumbstruck as he caught the reins of her horse and helped to steady the animal so she could get down. She jumped down beside him and turned to face him.
“Juliet, I thought –”
She didn’t let him get any further. Reaching up to his sopping frock coat, she took hold of the lapels and pulled him down towards her, kissing him with earnest need. It was one of their softer kisses, a press of lips together as the raindrops fell on the hair and cheeks, running down to their chins and dropping onto their clothes.
Juliet put everything she could into the kiss, the softness of her lips, her hands clutching his coat. When she felt his fingers brush the sides of her waist and how he kissed her back like a starving man, she smiled into the kiss.
This is what I have been missing.
He shifted them suddenly, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her high in the air. With her body plastered against his, he kissed her; now her face was at his level, it was much easier.
“I had to see you,” she whispered as he pulled back from her and started kissing her cheeks, apparently in need to kiss as much of her as he could reach. “I had to. Violet told me everything.”
“I wished to be the one to tell you.” He put her down on her feet and moved his hands to her cheeks, drying them of raindrops as he pushed back the loose locks of her wild hair. “Juliet, there has never been anything between Clarissa and me. She is like my sister. But with you …” He bent towards her, resting his forehead against hers. “That day we made love, I nearly asked you to marry me then.”
“You did?” she spluttered, her hands switching from his coat to cling onto his waistcoat, needing to be nearer to him.
“I did, but then you ran from me, and I just …” He sighed and leaned back, tilting his head up to the sky as more rain fell. “I realized just how in love with you I was.”
“I –” She tugged on his waistcoat, pulling him to look down at her again. “I love you, too.”
“Thank God for that.” He pressed his lips to hers again, the kiss so sudden now that they staggered together, in danger of losing their balance. Such happiness raced through Juliet at the feeling of his lips on hers and his declaration that she gripped him tight, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Marry me,” he pleaded, pulling back from her an inch before he stole another quick kiss. “Please, Juliet. Marry me,” he begged.
“Yes. I’ll marry you.” She nodded. “But our parents … they’ll never allow it.”
“I don’t care what they say.”
“We could go to –”
“Gretna Green?” he offered, and she nodded once more. They laughed together, bending their heads close. “Let us leave at once.” He bent down and kissed her again. His hands wandered around her waist, gripping her tight.
She was so lost in the sensation, thinking of his lips, of his hands, of what could pass on their wedding night, of telling him she loved him when he next made love to her, that she did not notice the sounds of more horses until one neighed practically in her ear.
“Oh, good God!” she cried, jumping back as Edward pulled her away too from the horses.
They turned together to see a carriage had crept up on them; the horses stopped just a few inches away. The door flung open, and people in the midst of an argument fell out through the gap.
