Page 51 of The Viscount's Seduction
“You’re frowning,” Sirena said.
He took the several steps to meet her, like walking on soft pillows, or through a deep water. He couldn’t get there quickly enough, but he did finally reach her. He took the hands she gripped together and kissed them.
She was wearing his ring.
“Say something, then, Bakeley.”
“I am dazzled.”
“Displeased?”
“You look like a shining star.”
She laughed and he heard relief. “Are we to marry then?” she asked.
“I am not much of a poet, am I? But you are blindingly lovely. And, yes, I have the license here.” He patted his pocket. “And the vicar over there. Come and I’ll go over the settlements and we’ll sign them and then be married.”
The little frown returned to her face, as if she were steeling herself for the business ahead, perhaps for the life ahead. Indeed, as he explained the provisions he was making for her and their children, she listened intently, gripping her hands as if she were about to jump off a cliff. They signed, and Hackwell witnessed, and when he looked up, he realized everyone but Hackwell had departed.
And Sirena’s face was as pale as a snowdrift.
Hackwell must have noticed it also. “Come into the drawing room when you’re ready.” He stood and walked out.
Left alone with her, Bakeley squeezed her icy hands, then began to chafe them with his. “Don’t be afraid. I won’t cheat you over your pin money. I won’t lock you away in the country. I would never strike you, Sirena. And I won’t let my father harm you in any way.”
“I’m not afraid.” Irritation laced her voice, and her deep inhalation made her breasts rise to greet him.
He had only the wedding and the small celebration to get through and then he could partake of her loveliness.
He stroked a finger along the top of her breasts, and her cheeks pinkened. “Bakeley,” she whispered. “What are you doing?”
“Bringing your color back. You were looking pale, as if you were going to faint.”
“I’m not a fainter.”
“Nor are you a coward. Shall we proceed?”
Her eyes searched his. “You’re quite certain you want me?”
“Yes. I’d be willing to show you right this moment, if you wish. Hackwell wouldn’t mind much.”
Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open in a breathless laugh. “You rascal, you.”
“Are you quite sure you wantme, Sirena?”
She stared at him for a long moment, her cheeks going pinker, her eyes smokier, a glazed look settling over her. Finally, she nodded. “It’s madness, Bakeley, but I do.”
“James.”
She took a deep breath. “Yes. James.”
“Let us proceed then, my lady.” With her on his arm, he led her down the corridor and through the open door of the drawing room.
Her grip on his arm tightened, and a high wave of tension hit both of them at the same time. He heard her sharp intake of breath, and his own heartbeat quickened.
Two other men had joined their party. One of them turned around and cast both of them a grim glare.
“I am not too late.” Lord Shaldon raised his quizzing glass, his scrutiny directed at Sirena.
