Page 30 of Beyond Scandal and Desire
“Choose the date you want.”
“But your mother has been so kind to me. An earlier wedding seems a small thing to give her.”
“She chose the day she married. You should choose yours.”
“You have no preference?”
“My preference is for you to be happy.”
The words were comforting, and yet she rather wished he’d claimed to be unable to wait until Christmas. Why was it that ever since she’d said yes, she was finding fault with him and questioning whether she should have said no?
The carriage slowed, drew to a halt. Glancing out the window, she was vaguely aware of a line of carriages, while the majority of her attention was arrested by the huge brick building. “Is that it?”
Kip leaned over, looked out. “I would say so, yes.”
“It’s monstrously large.”
“I believe he considers it his crowning glory. It sets the stage for the area.”
“It’s going to be a grand area, isn’t it?”
“If the rumors are to be believed.”
She snapped her attention to him. “How can you look at that and not believe?”
“Too pragmatic, I suppose. I have to wait for the results.”
The results would be spectacular. She had no doubt. A man who could create something like this was a man with vision, and a determination to ensuring it came to fruition.
The carriage moved up slowly, bit by bit, eventually reaching the front of the building, with its sweeping steps leading up to the glass doors. An assortment of people—some much more posh than others—were swarming toward them, disappearing inside.
A waiting footman opened the carriage door. Kip exited, then reached back and helped her to descend. The building was even more impressive when she was so near to it. She was suddenly incredibly grateful that Kip had accepted Mr. Trewlove’s invitation, that she was on the verge of seeing something so grand, of being part of a night that would have repercussions for years to come. The man was starting something here tonight that would spread out to have an impact on others, like a pebble tossed into a pond creating expanding ripples that eventually touched shore. Placing her hand in the crook of Kip’s elbow, she began the ascent into what would surely be paradise.
Mick Trewlove had remarkable taste. That was her initial thought when they stepped into the lobby where the plucked strings of a harp created a calming ambience. Well-heeled footmen walked about carrying silver trays holding flutes of champagne or small bites of food that could be easily eaten while standing. Gaslights burned in an array of glittering crystal chandeliers that illuminated everything. The walls were a dark wood she couldn’t help but believe reflected their owner.
Their owner. Who stood near the red-carpeted sweeping staircase with its polished dark banister and balustrade. He wore evening attire: a black swallow-tailed coat, waistcoat, trousers. A pristine white shirt with a perfectly knotted gray cravat. White gloves covered his large, roughened hands, laborer’s hands. If she hadn’t seen them in the flesh, she wouldn’t know of the host of tales they revealed, now hidden away. Proper clothing could make the most common of men appear nearly royal—and Mick Trewlove, regardless of his birth, was anything but common.
His beard was neatly trimmed. His black hair was more styled than she’d ever seen it—and she would swear it was a tad shorter, as though he’d clipped it just for this occasion. He stood a head taller than anyone surrounding him, so it was with ease that he captured and held her gaze. She’d never seen anyone exude such confidence, such power, such self-assurance. He fairly took one’s breath.
Or at least he seemed to have seized hers because her lungs were apparently incapable of drawing in air. Her chest might have been hit with one of the sledgehammers that surely had been used to raze the buildings that had once stood here. She’d forgotten the impact of his presence, the way it could unnerve while at the same time providing comfort, offering a cocoon of protection while asking for nothing in return.
The hotel was grand becausehewas grand, because he had built it in his own image, because it was a reflection of a man who had risen above the rubble of his beginnings. The circumstances of his birth should have relegated him to the gutter, but without knowing his entire story, she knew he had clawed his way out to reign over all he surveyed. How could anyone not give him the respect he’d so rightfully earned?
“He gives the impression he’s holding court,” Kip said. “Like a king.”
More than a king. Kings would bow to him, willingly serve at his pleasure. He was lord of his domain and all that surrounded him. She couldn’t help but wonder at the satisfaction a woman might feel if she stood at his side. She would wield her own power, be someone to be reckoned with in her own right because he was the sort who required a partner of strength and influence equal to his own.
Had he lived a thousand years ago or even five hundred, he would have been a conqueror, one who toppled empires, not to enslave but to free.
Then he was striding toward them, cutting a swath through the crowd as easily as she sliced off a bit of butter for her bread. When he was near enough, he took her hand in his, lifted it to his lips, placed a lingering kiss on her knuckles, the heat from his mouth seeping through the kidskin and traveling through every inch of her.Inappropriate!screamed through her mind and yet she couldn’t seem to care.
“Lady Aslyn, I’m so glad you were able to join us.”
“I welcome the opportunity to wish you well with your business venture.” Did she have to sound as though she had raced into this room, with her breaths coming in short, shallow gasps? Even if she hadn’t known their destination until they were on their way, her words weren’t a lie. She did wish him well, wished him more success than any man had ever achieved.
Releasing his hold on her, he turned to Kip. “Lord Kipwick. I’m equally glad you saw yourself free to join us.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it. I daresay it’ll be the talk of London on the morrow. You’ve outdone yourself here. It’s much grander than I expected.”
