Page 16 of The Marquess' Wicked Wager
“I disagree.” His head turned slightly to one side, and he leaned in, his eyes sliding from her face and down her neck. “Perhaps I’m not much of a gentleman, but I’m nothing like my father.”
His words, said before, drew her in this time. A call to her heaving chest and fuzzy thoughts. Flashes from the other night coaxed her closer, the thought of his lips on her as intoxicating as the scent of roses that enclosed them.
She flashed her eyes up to his. “Prove it.”
* * *
Albert had promised himself he was going to be gentle. That he wasn’t going to do anything with her that might give more weight to her accusations. But he simply couldn’t help himself. Every time she sniped at him and shoved him away, she drew him in deeper with a single glance.
He set his hand on her arm and pulled her closer, determined to feel her heart. And then he heard a sound that chilled him to the bone.
Somewhere beyond the crest of yellow rosebuds, a man was whistling a tune that would be foreign to many English ears, but which was as familiar to Albert as his own name. An old Clark family classic. He glanced up from Edna. Beyond the perfectly manicured hedge, he saw gray hair and a furrowed brow.
“My father,” he breathed and stepped back from Edna to peer around the bush. The old libertine had caught Lady Rees and Jonathan in his snare. Albert quieted his breath though there was little he could do for his thrumming heart.
He looked at Edna over his shoulder. “He’s looking for you.”
Her eyes widened, and she took a few steps back, hand clenched protectively over her chest. “I—I cannot bear to look upon him one more time.”
Albert stepped quickly toward her and offered his hand. “Come with me.”
She hesitated, looking between his outstretched hand and his eyes, then nodded and slipped her fingers into his. Albert tightened his hand around hers then turned and led them in the opposite direction. He took them under the hollow of a yew tree and cut through a break in the hedge where the bushes hadn’t yet grown together. When they broke into a small clearing, Albert scanned from side to side until he was certain they were alone then broke into a run across the soft grass.
Edna followed, at first glancing over her shoulder every few steps but then her stride fell in time with his. She gathered the hem of her skirts to keep up until she broke into a stilted, breathy laugh. “You must slow down; I cannot run a step farther in these boots. He is a man, not a bear.”
“Shows how little you know him,” Albert called back, a laugh in his throat. They passed under a gothic archway cluttered with English ivy then he spotted a tiny metal gazebo hidden amongst a huge spray of red and white roses. As they approached, he slowed and finally stopped.
She stumbled past him and collapsed in a poof of her cream dress. “This may surprise you,” she said, stopping to catch her breath, “considering how versed you are in women, but past the age of twelve, we make a very great effort not to move faster than the elegant gait required for a waltz.”
Albert laughed and rested his back against a wrought iron post with a sigh. “Is it so awful to feel twelve from time to time?”
“I suppose not,” she said and sighed. “Life was simpler then; that is surely true. And I ate a great deal more pie.”
“I wish I could say the same. Though my life has never ceased to be resplendent with pies.”
She placed a hand over her heart and pouted. “You mock my lack of pies, My Lord. It is a wound that will not heal.”
He chuckled and sat down beside her. “Forgive me, dear lady. Perhaps I can make it up to you?”
Her smile dipped a little in the corners, and she eyed him warily. “If it is more riddles about marriage, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until I catch my breath.”
“I am unenthusiastic about marriage as a general rule. I find it to be something of a vulgar institution with few exceptions. However, I recognize it does serve many foundational purposes in society.” Albert held her gaze as long as he could manage then turned toward the fragrant roses. “So let us say for the sake of argument that you did not wish to marry me…”
“As I do not.”
He nodded, ignoring the strange sting caused by her matter-of-fact tone. “And let us say for the sake of the same argument that I do not wish to marry at all. Those two suppositions do not change the indisputable fact that neither of us wishes for you to marry my father.”
Miss Worthington leaned forward to brush an errant leaf from her skirts. After taking her time, she turned to him, head cocked and eyebrow raised. “Why is it you are so adamantly against my marriage to your father?”
“Because he is a cad, and I would not see any woman sacrificed to his caprice, let alone one such as you.” He glanced down at her wanting to say more. To tell her any one of hundreds of stories that always seemed caught in the back of his throat like wet leaves behind a grate. He swallowed hard. “I can protect you from him if you’ll let me.” He met her eyes and could not help the premonition of her delicate, responsive eyes flushed with tears. “Will you let me?”
She looked up at him, her eyes searching his. “I do not understand what you are proposing, Marquess.”
“I’m proposing that you allow yourself to be won in a game of cards for a little while anyway.” He walked his fingers lightly over the side of his neck. “If you were my betrothed for a time. If we were seen together. If everybody knew about us. Well then, even if our engagement were to break off at some point, it would be utterly scandalous for my father to pursue you. The queen herself would not allow it. Especially if I wrote her a little note about how heartbroken I was.”
Miss Worthington’s fingers slipped lithely up the length of her dress and settled in her lap. Her lips twisted briefly before smoothing with the rest of her face. “You wish me to accept being bartered like that knowing I shall soon be thrust into scandal once more by a broken engagement?”
“It’s not a perfect solution, I grant you. But it’s far better than the alternative. You said you do not want to marry me, and this way you won’t have to. And I do not have to marry you either which is convenient for me.” Albert pulled himself to his feet and faced her. “I hope that by now you understand I am likely your only hope of escaping this.” Albert closed his lips and was about to leave the matter at that, but something about his experience of Miss Worthington made him add, “Please, don’t answer right away. Do me the honor of at least thinking about it.”
