Page 48 of The Marquess' Wicked Wager
Edna reeled back, but he was quick to catch her. “What do you…” The question trailed off as Albert captured her chin with his thumb and finger.
“Marry me.”
No, thismustbe a dream. There was no world in which a man as perfect as Albert could ask for her hand. No world in which it made sense. “What did you say?”
Albert merely smiled. “Marry me, Edna.”
“I thought I heard you right,” she whispered breathlessly.
He kissed her again, a light, lingering kiss on the edge of her mouth. “Marry me, and we shall never have to worry for as long as we live.”
“You mean to say,” she gulped, “you wish to marry me so as to put an end to your father’s madness.”
Again, his lips found hers, speaking another language entirely, entertaining their own intercourse. “I mean to say, Iloveyou, Edna. If we lived in heaven where there is no sin, I would ask for your hand all the same. What do you say, Blue? Fancy a lifetime with me?”
Edna began to cry. “I suppose.”
“You suppose?” he echoed with incredulous delight.
“Yes,” she cried, beaming. “Yes, I suppose that would be rather nice.”
Albert looked up then back down at her. “It would. The nicest.”
“And I loveyou.” She hadn’t said that, had she? Oh, damned if she had—he needed to know! “I love you, Albert. I really, truly do.”
“I believe it.”
“But…”
“No,” he sighed. “Nobuts, Edna.”
“There must be a but.” She took his hand in hers, holding in between them. It was an entirely different hand to her now, one which was half her own if he meant it. “We could never marry in London—not with the license written up, not with...other matters.”
“Then we shall marry elsewhere.” He held her hand against his chest, his eyes wide and pleading. “Gretna Greene.”
“Gretna Greene…Violet said it was but a few hours from here.”
“There is a family seat even closer.”
He spoke with such certainty. Almost as if… “You’ve thought this through.”
“I told you. There has been a change of plans.” He pressed his lips to her knuckles. “What? You didn’t think I’d put work on hold to attend a dratted wedding, did you?”
“Youarea rogue.”
“I’myourrogue—forever if you’ll have me.” And then, they were moving. He was leading her out of the bower but not toward the house. “I have a man waiting with a carriage. If we leave now, we will arrive before dawn.”
ChapterTwenty
Edna Worthington had never seen a more beautiful patch of land. She said as much to Albert—her betrothed, herrealbetrothed, though she could scarcely believe it—as the driver pulled up the horses at the end of the drive.
“I’m glad you don’t find the place too eerie,” he cooed, the box rocking them back and forth slowly. He covered a yawn; they had been traveling for half a day. “The keep has been in my family’s possession longer than we’ve had the duchy.”
Edna nodded. The family seat was nothing like her imagining. It was an old castle—not a castle but akeepas he had put it. A near-crumbling building of grey stones with towers and wings and all the other things little girls dream of. It sat at the heart of a moor, a misted marsh spreading out behind it.
Wind whistled against the panes of the carriage windows as they arrived before the hulking doors of the place. The sun was just about rising over the keep, and it was red. Albert stepped out before Edna, and he walked over to speak with the driver. She trailed toward the doors, looking around, taking it all in. Pebbles ground beneath her dancing slippers. She ran a hand over the stone of the entrance, a small part of her fearing it might dissipate beneath her touch.
And then Albert’s hand was on the small of her back, and he was opening a smaller door built into the larger ones for her. It yawned open. Without looking back, she stepped into the atrium.
