A Matter of Choice (4 page)

“I am not the one considering marriage. You are.”

“Yes. But since I am not for one second considering marriage to
you
, I would appreciate it if you kept your opinions to yourself.”

He pushed himself from the railing and towered over her, his legs anchored wide. “Very well, but first let me impart another piece of information before I leave you to your own demise. Lord Archbite is not all he seems.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Only that it would be to your advantage to make some inquiries before you connect yourself too deeply with him.”

“Why are you doing this? Do you dislike him that much? Or is it me?”

“I do not dislike him at all.” He shrugged, as if the warning he’d issued was inconsequential. As if omitting her last question would not be noticed. Her blood ran cold. Her temper erupted.

“You are disgusting.”

A smile crossed his face. “I believe you’ve already mentioned that.”

“Thank you for your concern. Now please leave me alone.”

“You’re angry.”

“Angry?” she said, as if she could not believe that surprised him. “I have been bullied, insulted, and by association to you, been made the object of gossip. And you called me a fool.”

“I didn’t call you a fool. I said marrying Archbite would indeed be foolish.”

Montfort placed a finger beneath her chin and lifted upward until her gaze locked with his. “He cannot release one portion of the passion you have hidden inside you. And you do not even know it is there.”

“I don’t have the faintest idea what you mean.”

“I know. And you should.”

Before she could react, he grasped her shoulders and pulled her close. She knew he intended to kiss her. Just as she knew she couldn’t allow it. She would never be the same if she did.

She brought her hands up to push him away but it was no use. He was too strong. Too powerful. Too desirable.

His arms wrapped around her and his mouth pressed against hers.

The kiss was soft, gentle. Almost chaste. And she held herself still, locking every muscle, using every ounce of fortitude she possessed to close her mind to the heat swirling through her body.

“Don’t fight me,” he whispered. His lips brushed feathery kisses over her cheek and down the side of her face.
“You need to know what you have to offer some very fortunate man.”

Before she could make another attempt to escape his grasp, his mouth pressed more firmly against hers. His lips covered hers with a possessiveness that was inescapable. With amazing skill he moved over her, tasting her, drinking from her, and demanding something.

She had no idea what it was.

She swore she would not let his kisses affect her. Just as she swore she would not kiss him back. But when his mouth opened atop hers, she lost her battle.

Fiery passion swirled in the pit of her stomach when his tongue probed the crease of her lips, churning her insides with an uncontrollable yearning. Her heart pounded in her breast. Blood thundered in her head. And she clung to him as if he alone could keep her from falling, when it was his fault she could not stand.

She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t take in enough air to survive. So she opened her mouth and let him breathe with her, for her. And he deepened his kiss.

She moaned, the sound a desperate plea for more.

His tongue entered, searched, found, conquered.

She struggled one last time, then wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him to her. His lips moved with an expertise that destroyed every effort to stop him. She held him closer, then yielded to his kisses and his touch.

His kisses continued for an eternity, each one more consuming than the last. When he finally lifted his mouth from hers, she sank against him like the weak, wanton woman he’d made her.

She couldn’t move, didn’t have the strength to stand on her own. She pressed her cheek against his chest and listened to his heart thunder inside his breast. It beat as violently as her own.

Eventually, deep inside a never-opened recess of her mind, a door opened and she realized the mistake she’d made.

The kiss they’d shared had not been simple and chaste as every other kiss she’d experienced before. But earthy and passionate. He’d opened a Pandora’s Box of desires she didn’t want to know were locked inside her. He’d changed everything she’d convinced herself she wanted.

If she must marry, as her brother insisted she do, then marriage to Lord Archbite was the only marriage she would consider. Because he demanded nothing. She felt nothing for him. Her emotions were safe with him. There was no risk to her heart.

With one passionate kiss, the Marquess of Montfort had ruined everything. He’d destroyed every illusion she’d constructed in her attempt to live a safe, emotionless life.

Damn him.

Damn him!

He cupped her cheeks in his hands and lifted her face. “See, my lady. You deserve more.”

She twisted out of his arms and stepped away from him, her legs still unsteady beneath her. “How dare you. How dare you!”

Allison wanted to strike him. Her hands fisted tighter and moved involuntarily at her side.

He glanced down at her clenched fists. “I wouldn’t if I were you. I rarely let a woman strike me once. I allowed it the other night because I deserved it. I will not tolerate it again.”

Allison clamped her hands against her side, wishing for once she were a man and could answer his threat. He deserved her anger more tonight than before. He had no idea what he’d done.

She spun away from him and ran back into the house, not caring what anyone thought when they saw her fleeing for her life.

The Earl of Archbite called
to escort her on a carriage ride that next afternoon as promised. The day was brilliantly clear without the hint of a rain cloud in the sky. A slight breeze, warm from the bright sunshine, washed over them as they made their way through Hyde Park. All in all, it was a picture perfect day.

But Allison hardly noticed. Instead, she spent the entire time watching over her shoulder, waiting for the Marquess of Montfort to ride up behind them and spoil it.

“Is something wrong?” The earl looked behind him to where she focused her gaze.

Allison jerked ahead, swearing she would not look back again. Swearing she would give Montfort the cut if he was foolish enough to bother them. “No. Nothing is wrong.”

“It’s just that you keep looking behind you as if you’re expecting someone. Are you expecting someone?”

“Of course not. It’s just such a wonderful day that I’m trying to absorb it all.”

He gave her a warm smile and leaned back in the seat, seeming very relaxed and content. Allison felt a sense of familiarity being with him too. The familiarity she felt when she was with…her brother.

That she’d just compared him to David disappointed her. She shoved the thought out of her mind as if it had never been born.

Chastising herself for her foolishness, she sat back against the leather cushion. She was determined to enjoy the rest of the ride. Determined
not
to remember the reason she’d gotten very little sleep last night. Or the turmoil that raged through her body since Montfort had so thoroughly kissed her. She would not allow herself to think of him.

“It really is a beautiful day.” She moved her parasol further back on her shoulder so the sunshine could hit her face.

“Yes. But not nearly as beautiful as you.”

The sincerity of his compliment took her by surprise and she gave him a sideways glance. The adoring look on his face bespoke the depth of his feelings. She lowered her gaze to her lap.

“Don’t be embarrassed.” He placed his gloved hand atop hers. “You
are
beautiful. Even more so with a blush to your cheeks. I cannot believe you are not already married.”

“I never wanted to marry. Not after—“

“Don’t, my lady.” He lifted a finger to stop her. “What happened to Lord Bradley did not reflect on you in the least. I don’t want you to ever think of his betrayal again.”

Allison tried to put a smile on her face, but knew she came up short. Percy only patted her hand in a reassuring manner and focused on the path ahead. Allison took the opportunity to study him.

Lord Archbite was an only child. His father had been well up in years when he was born, then had died unexpectedly a few years later. He’d left Percy his wealth, his title, and a doting Mother who lived only for her son. This undoubtedly explained the close connection between the two.

Some saw his devotion to his mother as a weakness, but Allison did not. It was a quality she wasn’t sure she understood, but it somehow comforted her. Surely that devotion, that faithfulness, would transfer to his wife after he married.

She should consider herself lucky he was interested in her. He was exactly the kind of man she wanted. Someone wealthy enough that her dowry was of no interest. Someone who did not have a reputation as a rake and scoundrel with a string of mistresses scattered throughout London. Someone who would honor his vows and be faithful to her.

Someone as different from Montfort as any man could be.

“I’m glad you have come back into Society. Glad you accepted my invitation this afternoon. It gives me hope.”

“Hope?”

His gaze locked with hers. “Until now, a permanent arrangement of any kind did not interest me. You have changed my mind.”

Allison’s cheeks warmed and she knew it had nothing to do with the midday sun shining on her face.

Her heart beat faster and her breathing turned rapid and shallow. She knew what was coming next, what words he intended to say.

An overwhelming sense of panic washed over her. She suddenly realized she didn’t want to hear what he was going to tell her.

He turned to face her, his heartfelt sincerity plain to see. “I cannot let another day pass before I tell you my feelings. You have captured my heart and I am convinced the sun rises and sets in you. Next to my mother, you are truly the most virtuous woman I know.”

He cradled her free hand and pressed it to his chest.

A stronger tremor of panic raced through her. Why didn’t his words thrill her? Why didn’t her heart soar at his proclamation? Instead, she felt trapped. Uncomfortable. As if committing to anything right now would be a mistake.

“I’ve admired you forever. You are perfection itself, above reproach. Mother says a match between our two families would be advantageous to us both.”

She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t keep her heart from racing out of control. “Lord Archbite.” She pulled her hand away from him. Her voice sounded barely more than a whisper that quivered with a timidity totally alien to her nature. What was wrong with her? “I am extremely flattered by your compliments, exaggerated though they may be. It would be a lie to pretend I am oblivious to your intentions. I am not. I appreciate your feelings. But…” She hesitated until she could find a way to say what she needed to say. “Please. I need time before you declare yourself.”

The wounded look in Percy’s eyes made her feel terrible.

“Of course. How rude of me to be so forward. This is hardly the time or the place for such a delicate discussion. It was thoughtless of me not to realize you might not return my feelings with the same intensity.”

“No. It’s not that—“

He held up his hand to stop her protest. “Is there someone else, then?”

“No. Oh, no.”

His features relaxed. “Perhaps you could give me an idea of how much time you require?”

“The end of the month,” she said, trying to keep her voice level. “Just until the end of the month.”

“Of course.” His face opened to a wide grin. “That is only two weeks. Be assured that my feelings will not change in that short a time. Although it will seem like a lifetime to me, I can understand your need to consider such a monumental decision.”

“Thank you.” She forced her lips to relax enough to smile at him.

She’d avoided crossing an invisible line that would irrevocably connect her to Percy. The emotions that surged through her were indescribable. Relief. Reprieve.

Her breath caught. What was she doing? This was what she wanted, what she’d been after. She only had two more weeks to find a husband, so why had she stopped him from asking for her hand?

Because you don’t love him
, a loud voice screamed in her head.

But I don’t believe in love,
another voice countered. And she didn’t. She was well acquainted with greed and lust. She’d seen it in her parents’ marriage, and knew it was the basis for her three sisters’ marriages. But she’d never seen a married couple who loved each other. Even David’s affiliation with his wife remained a mystery. She wasn’t sure if their relationship was based on love, or simply a fondness necessitated by the need to provide the next generation of Hartley heirs.