Taming an Impossible Rogue (38 page)

He stood up, tangling his hand into the careful knot at the back of her head and tilting her head up for a hot, crushing kiss. Somewhere beyond the range of her caring she thought she heard her mother scream, but she barely noted it. Keating wrapped his arms around her, pulling her hard against him.

“I love you,” he whispered again, brushing her lips more gently with his.

“I love you,” she whispered back, knotting her fingers into his lapels so he couldn’t get away from her.

“Then come with me. I have a coach waiting to take us to Gretna Green.”

She grinned. “Oh, yes.”

He took her hand tightly in his, and together they ran out the back of the church as chaos erupted around them. The coach he had waiting bore the Duke of Greaves’s coat of arms, which explained why her friends hadn’t been at all concerned over her.

As he handed her up and climbed in after her, the last glimpse she had through the open church doors was Fenton standing beside the priest, his mouth hanging open. She laughed.

Keating kept hold of her hand as the coach rolled swiftly toward the north. “I took the liberty of removing most of your clothes and things from The Tantalus Club this morning,” he said, his gaze never wavering from hers. “Sophia says to give you this.” He leaned forward and slowly, gently kissed her again. “Perhaps not quite in that way, but I interpreted.”

“I still can’t believe this is real,” she returned. “I’m dreaming.”

“You’re not dreaming.” His expression sobered. “You will be utterly ruined now. No parties, no dances, no unnoticed walks through the London parks.”

“I imagine Havard’s Glen has paths.”

“It has some lovely paths. And a pond. And deer.” He ran his fingers down the side of her face as though memorizing her.

“And it has assemblies?”

“It does.” He smiled. “In fact, I swear to you that if there isn’t an assembly in the next three weeks, I will hire musicians and dance you through the house. Just the two of us.”

That almost sounded better than a party. “Thank you for saving me,” she said. Her childhood self had been correct; dreams did come true. She’d just begun living one. A single warm tear ran down her cheek.

He brushed it away and kissed the spot where it had been. “Thank you for saving
me,
” he returned. “My friend. My wife. My love.”

Keep reading for a sneak peek at the next sensual romance in the Scandalous Brides series:

RULES TO CATCH A DEVILISH DUKE

by Suzanne Enoch

Coming Fall 2012 from St. Martin’s Paperbacks

Adam Baswich, the Duke of Greaves, stood looking down at the naked young lady in the cast-iron bathtub. Steam rose from the water to straighten the damp strands of unusual scarlet hair that tangled deep red and lush at the top of her head. If she hadn’t been wearing the remains of a bonnet earlier, he would have recognized her even in the middle of the River Aire; he’d never encountered anyone with hair of quite that color.

Realizing that Mrs. Brooks wasn’t present, he hesitated for a brief moment, then moved forward anyway, stopping halfway into the guest bedchamber. Saving a chit’s life should grant him some license to speak with her. “Miss White. You’re unhurt, I hope?”

She nodded, sinking still lower in the tub so that her lips were only a fraction above the rippling line of water. If they hadn’t been chattering, he might have considered them kissable, but that was neither here nor there.

“Bumped and bruised I think, now that I can feel my arms and legs again. But yes. This is much better than being drowned.” She offered a smile. “And as you’re the reason I didn’t drown, I think you should call me Sophia.”

“Considering that the coachman was saving the mail and the turkeys, aiding you seemed the least I could do,” he returned. “I hate when my guests expire while answering my invitations. It puts people off.”

“I can see where that might happen.”

This seemed an odd and rather amusing conversation to have with someone—a chit in particular—who’d nearly drowned, but on the other hand she would have need of her good humor. “I’m afraid that this was all we were able to recover of your luggage.” Putting a sympathetic expression on his face, Adam lifted up the wet, misshapen hat box that dangled by its fraying handle. “I’m sorry. We did look, Sophia.”

Sophia White looked at him, then at the box. Then she laughed, her mouth upturning and eyes squinting at the corners in genuine amusement. The sound, her entire reaction, in fact, was completely unexpected, and he frowned, even more intrigued now. Although he didn’t have much experience with half-drowned women, he doubted most of them would laugh at additional misfortune.

“I enjoy a good joke,” he said. “Is this one?”

Choking a little, Miss White lifted one hand out of the water and pointed at the hat box. “I detest that hat. I only purchased it on a dare and meant to wear it to shock Cammy and your other guests.” She chuckled again. “Oh, it’s dreadful. I daresay it only survived because Poseidon refused to have it in his river and cast it back upon the shore.”

If there was one thing Adam insisted on, it was having his curiosity satisfied. For the moment he put aside the information that she meant to shock his guests. Some of them could stand to be upended. That had been one of the reasons he’d invited her to his party in the first place, actually. He hadn’t thought she’d known that, though. Or did she? She likely didn’t receive many invitations to noble houses, after all.

Keeping half his attention on Miss White, he set the box down on a chair and with his boot knife cut the string holding it closed when the wet knot wouldn’t budge. Once he’d removed the lid, he reached in and pulled the sopping wet thing out into view. It was blue, with what looked like the remains of two bright blue ostrich feathers arching over the top of it and shading two concentric rings of red and yellow flowers. A faux bird—either a sparrow or a bull finch—nested in the center of the yellow inner ring. “Good God.” She was absolutely correct. The hat was hideous.

Even considering the ugly hat, her reaction wasn’t anything he’d anticipated. After all, he’d just informed her that everything she’d brought with her to Yorkshire was gone. Perhaps she hadn’t understood that. Or perhaps that had been hysterical laughter, though he abruptly doubted that. Previously acquainted to her or not, he was beginning to suspect that Sophia White had rather more facets to her than he’d expected.

“I’m certain we’ll be able to find something for you to wear,” he began again, setting aside the hat and noting that if he took a step or two closer, he would be able to see her bare legs beneath the water. He had no objection to seeing them again, actually, but it seemed a bit like taking advantage.

“Camille is nearly my size,” she commented, sending a glance at the towel across the foot of the bath tub. “I know she would lend me a gown.”

“Mrs. Blackwood isn’t here.”

Her pretty green eyes blinked. “That complicates things a bit, doesn’t it?” She sighed, her mostly submerged shoulders rising and falling beneath the thinning curtain of steam. “Perhaps one of your other guests could be persuaded to lend me a cast-off, then, until Cammy arrives. Or I’d be happy to purchase something from one of the maids.”

So in the space of a very few minutes she’d lost her clothes and the presence of her dearest friend, but Sophia White didn’t seem overly concerned by any of it. Adam almost hesitated to tell her the rest, out of character as it was for him to sympathize with any but a very select circle of friends. But he found himself more curious as to what her reaction would be than concerned that she would be overset. Miss White didn’t seem to overset easily.

“You are my first guest, Sophia. And as long as the bridge and the river and the weather continue in their present state, you shall be my only guest.”

This time uncertainty crossed her face. Practiced as he was at deciphering people who made their way by deception, he could practically hear her thoughts. Was she trapped at Greaves Park for the winter? Was there anywhere she could go to escape her situation? He could answer all those questions, of course, but he wanted to hear her ask them aloud first. Miss Sophia White might be a child of unacknowledged parentage, and one who worked in a profession many of his peers considered highly unacceptable, but there were times a few months ago when he’d actually found her amusing. And interesting. Had it been a facade, or was she actually as good-humored and practical as she pretended?

She wrinkled her nose in a thoughtful scowl. “Well. Unless I’m to remain submerged here until spring thaw, I shall have to hope that Mrs. Brooks liked me well enough to allow me to alter one of her old dresses. Unless you have a supply of onion or potato sacks to hand, of course.”

Considering how rarely anyone accomplished the perturbing feat of surprising him, Adam couldn’t quite believe that she’d done so unintentionally—though under the circumstances, unless she’d taken a powder keg to the bridge, he had to believe that she’d had no idea what awaited her on the road to Greaves Park. “You mean to tell me that as long as someone has enough charity to lend you a gown, you have no other concerns over your situation?” he asked, unable to keep the well-honed skepticism from creeping into his voice.

“I
am
somewhat concerned that you’ve barged into my bath without so much as knocking,” she returned promptly. “But I’m also aware of precisely what sort of female everyone thinks me.” She tilted her head, a straying strand of her autumn-colored hair dipping into the water as she assessed him. “Is that why you came in here? I’m still dreadfully cold, you know.”

Hm.
Perhaps it had crossed his mind, but he wasn’t about to admit to it. “You are the friend of my friend’s wife, Sophia. I wasn’t aware that you would be naked.”

“Fair enough. And considering that you pulled me out of a river, even if I were prone to be otherwise offended, I certainly wouldn’t be now.”

Now that he
did
know she was naked, he likely should have left the room. Instead he hooked his ankle around a chair, dragged it closer, and sat. “You’re well educated.”

“I am quite well educated.”

“And yet I recall one evening at The Tantalus Club when you complained to Lord Effington that if that Cleopatra chit ever showed her face in London, she would regret attempting to steal the Nile from us.”

Her mouth lifted at the corners. “And Lord Effington laughed so hard at me that he didn’t even notice he’d lost seven hundred pounds at faro to the club.” She lowered her gaze briefly before her green eyes met his squarely again. “Should I dissemble, then? It gives me an aching head after a while, but I can pretend stupidity if it benefits me.”

In the company of Keating Blackwood and Camille, Adam had once escorted Sophia to the Tower of London and had even untangled a lion cub’s claws from her hem. He couldn’t recall that she’d said anything ridiculous, or if he’d been lured into saying anything haughty or condescending in return. The fact that he was attempting to recall several brief conversations with her, however, spoke volumes. She’d just elevated herself from mildly interesting to intriguing. “I prefer that my guests be themselves,” he said aloud. “So I suppose I shall converse with whichever face you choose to show me.”

“I just showed you my actual face, so that will have to do, I’m afraid.”

All of the ladies of The Tantalus Club were beauties; the owner, Lady Haybury, only hired the most tempting of chits. The fact that they were untouchable except by their own choice made them even more attractive to most of the lordlings of Mayfair. Some of the young ladies came from good homes and bad circumstances, and all of them were well-spoken and charming.

He’d noted months ago that Sophia White was an attractive young lady, just as he’d noted that she had a very unattractive parentage. In the same way, he noted now that she didn’t blush and hide when a man disrupted her bath, and that she’d looked him over from head to toe at the same time she’d stated that she wasn’t offended by his presence, but was simply too chilled to leave the bathtub. A living, breathing conundrum, when he’d expected a tiresome, fluttery, complaining headache.

“So I am your only guest.”

“You are.” He drew a breath, wondering if she realized just how … vital that made her to him at the moment. “But you are not the only female in residence. My sister arrived a week ago. As I am unmarried, Lady Wallace hosts my Christmas gatherings. I don’t invite guests in order to deliberately ruin their reputations.”

Color had begun to touch her cheeks again. “If that’s so, then I wager I’m your only pre-ruined guest.”

He smiled. “Several of my guests—would-be guests—walk close to your side of the dividing line, though none of them currently work at The Tantalus Club.”

Her brow furrowed, the amusement in her eyes fading a little. “Should I volunteer to leave, then?” she asked abruptly. “Your large holiday party has become a small family gathering. As Hanlith is only a mile away, I could t—”

“No.”

“No?”

“It’s too complicated to explain with you sitting there in cooling water, but you will stay.” He stood. “And I will see that you have a suitable wardrobe.”

“I will see to my own wardrobe. If you begin dressing me, I’ll feel … obligated to you. Even more than I already do.”

People rarely turned down his offers of generosity. He didn’t make them very often. And while it somewhat annoyed him, he had to respect her wishes. And her. “As you will, then. I’ll send Mrs. Brooks back in to tend to you. Work your wiles on her if you wish a gown. I’ll have Mrs. Beasel the cook save a potato sack, just in case.”

Sophia snorted. “Thank you.”

In the doorway, he stopped again. “You are my guest, Sophia, whatever the oddities that led us to this moment. You may have as many potato sacks as you wish.” He hesitated. “You may ask anything of me that you wish.” And hopefully she would never realize how rarely he made such a statement. Evidently half-drowned chits with stunning red hair were a weakness he’d never realized he had.

“At this moment, all I ask is that you please knock the next time you wish to enter a room you’ve provided for me.”