At Last (5 page)

It was a mistake he wouldn’t repeat. Before
this evening was over, Sophia would know, without a doubt, how much
he cared for her--out of the bedchamber as well as in it.

So instead of sweeping her into his arms and
carrying her to the nearest bed he offered her a smile and teased,
“I’d wager you’re now sorry you never expressed to me a love for
diamonds and emeralds.”

She laughed, a magical sound that flowed
over him like warm honey. “In truth I’m not overly fond of diamonds
or emeralds. I much prefer--“

“
Pearls.”

“
I mentioned
that?”

He nodded. “Once.”

“
And you
remembered?”

“
You sound
surprised.”

“
I suppose I
am.”

She returned her attention to the table and
picked up one of the sea shells decorating the surface. As he knew
she would, she held the shell up to her ear, and his heart turned
over at the delighted smile that lifted her lips. “You also
remembered how I love the sound of the sea.”

“
I recall every detail of
our time together. Everything about you
is...unforgettable.”

Color rushed into her cheeks and she quickly
set the shell back in the bowl. “Ian, what I said in the carriage
regarding my feelings...there are things we need to discuss--“

“
I agree. And what better
way to begin than with your favorite things?” He slid back one of
the mahogany chairs from the table in invitation.

Her gaze lingered over the arrangement of
pink roses set in a crystal vase in the center of the table. “I
believe you are once again trying to tempt me with your roses.”

“
I am. And let’s not
forget the cherries, marzipan, scones and raspberry
jam.”

She moistened her lips, a
gesture that tightened Ian’s fingers around chair back. “I
am
a bit hungry,” she
said.

“
Excellent. Shall we
sit?”

She hesitated, and he prayed the wariness in
her eyes was a result of not trusting herself--bloody great news as
far as he was concerned, as opposed to not trusting him--a bloody
depressing thought. Finally she nodded, then gracefully sat and
murmured her thanks. Ian took the seat across from her and popped a
piece of marzipan in his mouth. While enjoying the almond-flavored
treat as well as several cherries he watched her spread jam on a
scone then take a delicate bite.

“
Is it to your
liking?”

“
Yes. Thank you for going
to such trouble on my behalf.”

“’
Tis no trouble to give
you the things you enjoy, Sophia.”

His gaze riveted on a speck of jam dotting
her bottom lip. Unable to resist, he reached out and brushed a
fingertip over the spot. “You missed a bit of jam.” With his gaze
steady on hers, he sucked the morsel from his fingertip. Her eyes
darkened at the gesture--which he might perhaps have been able to
resist, but when her gaze dropped to his mouth and she whispered
his name, the fire racing through him incinerated his every good
intention, and the battle not to touch her was well and truly
lost.

Without taking his gaze from her, he stood
and strode around the table. Lifted her into his arms. Carried her
swiftly to the sofa. Set her on the chintz-covered cushion, then
covered her body with his.

“
Missed you so bloody
much,” he murmured in a rough whisper, interspersing kisses along
her jaw and neck between words. “Couldn’t eat. Couldn’t sleep.
Couldn’t think o’ anything but you. Finding you. Touching you.
Loving you.”

Every thought fled his
mind when she tangled her fingers in his hair and urged his mouth
to hers for a lush, tongue-dancing kiss.
More.
Damn it, he needed more. He
insinuated his hand beneath her gown’s hem and skimmed his palm up
her leg.

“
Ached for you...God,
Sophia, I’ve ached for you every minute of the last six months.”
They both groaned when he touched her folds. “Wet,” he rasped,
dragging his tongue down her throat as he teased her with a light,
circular motion then slipped two fingers inside her. “You’re so
beautifully wet.”

She moaned and arched beneath him, spreading
her legs wider. “I’ve ached for you as well, Ian.” She stroked his
hard length through his breeches, and he gritted his teeth against
the intense pleasure.

Helpless to remain still, he thrust into her
hand. “I won’t last long if you continue doing...ahhh...that.”
Long? Bloody hell, he was a heartbeat away from ripping open his
breeches and mindlessly sinking into her. Which was precisely what
he’d promised himself he wouldn’t do. Damn it, he was going to do
this properly even if it killed him--which it bloody well
might.

With a groan that felt ripped from his soul,
he sat up, bowed his head, and fought to control his ragged
breathing.

“
Ian...” She sat up and
kissed his neck, dragging another groan from him. “You didn’t need
to stop. I want us to have this night. One last night to be
together.”

A frown pulled down his brows and he turned
toward her. “One last night? What are you talking about?”

“
Us spending the night
together. Enjoying each other.”

“
And then?”

“
And then I’ll go home.
And you’ll return to Scotland.”

Bloody hell. He’d not only pounced on her,
he’d lost his mind and forgotten all his fine plans for the
evening. “Sophia. I stopped because I didn’t come here for a quick
romp--“

“
I understand. Which is
why I want you to know we can have the entire night.”

“
No, you don’t understand
at all. I didn’t come to London to resume our affair or to spend a
night with you. I came here to tell you that I love you. So much it
hurts to even breathe without you. I don’t want you to be just my
lover. I want you to be my wife.” He withdrew a square velvet box
from his waistcoat pocket then lowered himself to one knee. Looking
into her eyes, he opened the box to reveal the pearl ring he’d
commissioned especially for her. “Sophia, will you marry
me?”

Chapter 6

The blank shock, followed
by dawning dismay, on Sophia’s face was definitely not the reaction
Ian had hoped for. She rose from the sofa then moved to the
fireplace, putting the length of the Axminster rug between them.
“
Marry
you? You
cannot be serious.”

Hurt, and damn it, anger propelled him to
his feet. He set the ring aside then reached her in two long
strides and grasped her shoulders. “I’ve never been more serious in
my life. I love you, Sophia. I want ye to be my wife. To share my
life.”

She shook her head and tried to shrug off
his hold, but he wouldn’t let her. “It’s impossible, Ian.”

“
Why?”

“
Why
? Surely you can see this could never work between us. Your
place is in Scotland. Mine is here, in England, being the sort of
mother to Edward I promised him I’d be. The sort whose behavior is
above reproach. A scandal would not only cast shame upon me, but
Edward as well. Just last year a terrible scandal erupted when a
viscountess was discovered having an affair with a footman. Her
husband publicly gave her the cut direct, and many in Society, not
wishing to incur the viscount’s wrath, cut not only the viscountess
but her children as well, including her son, whose political
aspirations suffered as a result. Edward has political aspirations
as well. I cannot,
will not
subject him to any such possible disgrace or
shame.”

“
I’m not a footman,
Sophia, and I’m asking you to be my wife--not my mistress. We are
of the same social class. No scandal would touch you or your son if
we married.”

“
The age difference
between us is enough to set tongues wagging. I’ll be labeled a
cradle snatcher, or worse. My God, Ian, you’re not only twelve
years younger than me, you’re only ten years older than my
son!”

“
You make it sound as if
I’m a child rather than a man of five and twenty. What precisely is
it you think I’m too young for?”

“
A woman of seven and
thirty.”

He muttered a Gaelic
curse. “There is naught I can do about my unfortunate lack of age,
except to reiterate that it doesn’t matter to me and to remind you
that I
will
get
older.”

“
As will I. I know how
difficult an age gap can be in a marriage--“

He cut her off with a dismissive wave.
“Twelve years is hardly the same as the thirty year difference you
had with your husband.”

“
You’ll change your mind
when you’re still a young man and I’m an old hag.”

“
That’s bloody ridiculous.
You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”

“
Beauty fades with
age.”

“
Not inner beauty. But
using your theory, any good looks you believe I posses will also
fade. You’ll look at me and see a crabbitt old coot.”

She shook her head. “Ian,
it was one thing for us to be together in Scotland, where I was
unknown and had no one but myself to consider. It was a wonderful,
special time and I’ll always be grateful to you for showing me how
to live again. For making me
want
to live again. But it wasn’t real.”

“
The hell it wasn’t. It
was the most real thing I’ve ever known.”

“
While it lasted. But it
had to end.”

“
Not if we care for each
other.”

Her eyes begged for understanding. “I must
set a good example for Edward, and that good example does not
include being with a man twelve years my junior.”

“
I don’t give a damn about
the twelve years!”

“
You should. What of an
heir? It’s very unlikely I can bear another child.”

“
I’ve male cousins who can
inherit the title.”

“
Every man wants a son of
his own.”

“
I canna speak for every
man, only myself. And what I want is a woman to love. A woman who
makes me laugh. Who makes me happy. Having a child would be a great
blessing, but ‘tis not vital to my happiness. Whereas
you
, Sophia, are
absolutely vital.” He smoothed his hands down her arms and entwined
their fingers. “I also want a woman who loves me, as much as I love
her. As far as I’m concerned, that’s the
only
reason us marrying would be
impossible--if you don’t love me.” He searched her gaze, wishing he
could read her thoughts, but her expression was impossible to
decipher. “So the only question left is: Do you love
me?”

“
I...I care for you very
much--“

“
That is no’ what I asked.
Do you
love
me?
‘Tis a simple question--and requires only a simple yes or no
answer.”

Tenderness shimmered in her eyes, filling
him with relief and hope. “Yes, Ian. I love you. But--“

He cut her off with a
hungry kiss filled with all the pent up love and frustration and
passion he’d held in check for what felt like an eternity. She
loved him. Nothing else mattered. He deepened the kiss and the
words
at last
thundered through his brain.
At
last
she was back in his arms, where she
belonged.
At last
they would be together.
At
last
.

A shudder shook her and he lifted his head.
And stilled at the tears in her eyes...golden brown pools that
reflected sadness and regret rather than happiness. And suddenly he
felt as if he’d turned to ice.

She stepped back and his arms fell to his
sides. “Ian...I cannot marry you. I do love you--so much that it is
nearly impossible to recall that I have responsibilities beyond my
own happiness and selfish desires. Which is the biggest reason I
had to leave you in Scotland--because I was so tempted to forget
everything but you. To think of nothing, no one but myself. But I
cannot think only of myself. I cannot risk any sort of scandal. If
there was only me to consider...but there’s not. Perhaps if Edward
were an adult...but he’s not. If I were younger or you were
older...but that isn’t the case. I wish with all my heart our
circumstances were different...but they’re not.”

Ian heard her words, but
after she’d said
I cannot marry
you,
they all blurred together. It didn’t
really matter what she said. In spite of her regret, her resolute
determination was clear to see. His heart screamed at him to argue,
to persuade her, but his mind knew there was no point. Perhaps she
loved him, but it didn’t matter. Because she didn’t love him
enough. And no amount of arguing or persuasion would change
that.

He had to clear his throat to locate his
voice. “Well, that’s that then.” He sounded as gutted as he
felt.

She reached out and rested her hand on his
chest. Right above the heart she’d just broken. “Yes, but we still
could have tonight, Ian. One more night. And then say
good-bye.”

He briefly closed his eyes and pressed her
hand tighter against his chest. Then shook his head. “I can’t have
you again then let you go. I can’t have you again then say
good-bye. I want it all, Sophia. All or nothing.”

A single tear slid down her cheek and fell
on his cuff. “Then I’m afraid it’s...nothing.”