Lady of Pleasure (39 page)

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Authors: Delilah Marvelle

Tags: #Historical Romance

BOOK: Lady of Pleasure
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Caroline bit back a smile. If Alex was getting territorial over a woman, that meant it was only a matter of time. “Good. I want Alex to be happy. He deserves it.”

“Yes. He does.”
They were quiet for a moment.

Realizing that Ronan was still kneeling before her and still leaning in close, she swallowed and felt self-conscious again. One moment he was her friend whom she felt comfortable leaning against, and the next she realized he was a man and that she was still a woman. She was trying not to focus on the latter.

His eyes searched her face and softly said, “I missed you.”

Her heart squeezed. She had never seen his brown eyes and his rugged features appear so uplifted and bright. Caroline reached out a hand and smoothed her fingers against his cravat, trying to tell herself this was real. He was here, trying to love her. “And I missed you.”

“Did you?” he murmured.

She nodded. “Yes.”

“But you were angry.”
“Yes.”

His fingers dug into the sides of her thighs. “I will take away all that I have done. I will not rest until I have proven myself worthy of you.”

Tears overwhelmed her. It was like welcoming him back into her life.

“Caroline?”

She met his gaze through smeared vision and sniffed. “Yes?”

He hesitated. “I want to try to kiss you.” He lowered his gaze to her lips. “Can I?”

A shaky breath escaped her. “Yes.”

He leaned in closer across the space of her lap that divided them. His jaw tightened. “Don’t move.”

“I won’t,” she whispered.

His large hand slid into her hair and gently dragged her closer to him and where he still knelt before her. Tilting his mouth toward hers, he set his mouth against hers and then paused against her lips, the heat of his firm mouth penetrating hers.

Her eyes fluttered closed and she felt as if she were floating in the most beautiful way that surpassed any touch he had ever gifted, any glance he had ever offered. It was her first kiss.

His lips parted hers slowly as if unsure as to what he should do. Her tongue met his gently and together, they became one. Her fingers
and
her toes tingled and went numb. She was Anne Elliot. At long last, she was Anne Elliot.

It was everything she could have ever dreamed of…and more.

Ronan was long past panicking. He was long past thinking. He had given over to
feeling
. As he had been repeatedly been taught to do. And in doing so, he was surprised to find that kissing Caroline was far from daunting. It was…delicious. Caroline’s lips were like all those strawberries he had dipped in cream. Her lips were moist and soft, yet firm. And her tongue was gentle, but playful, making him feel welcome and warm, yet in control.

It was beautiful.

She
was beautiful.

He regretted having ever made her suffer in the name of his own doubts and shadows. He regretted not trusting that she would love more than the idea of him. That she, Caroline, his Caroline, loved him, even with all his imperfections. It was overwhelming and he suddenly felt as if he couldn’t breathe again.

But for different reasons.

Ronan broke away, opened his eyes and edged back, his still trembling hand skimming down her shoulder and to her hands, which were still in her lap.

He had kissed her. Damn.

Her eyes were still dreamily closed, her pale face flushed, and her moist lips parted in awe as if he had delivered unto her the most miraculous of gifts.

For the first time in his life, he felt like he had done something right. “How was it?”

Her eyes opened and a soft breath escaped her. Bright blue-green eyes met his with a tenderness he thought he’d never see again. “It was worthy of
Persuasion
.”

He felt his face getting hot knowing it, but somehow managed to quip, “Then you had best start calling me Captain.”

She leaned toward him and tugged on the lapel of his coat. “Someone once told me Captain Wentworth is a figment of some lonely woman’s imagination. So we really oughtn’t compare a fictional character to a real man.”

A choked laugh escaped him. “Who the devil said that?”

She shrugged. “One of my sisters. I forget which. Though it was probably Anne, for it reeks of her adorable sarcasm. And how mockingly appropriate is that? Given her name
is
Anne.” She smiled brightly.

She looked happy. Still on one knee before her, his hands smoothed her skirts, knowing that
he
was the cause of such happiness. It made him feel at peace for the first time in a long time. He had waited what felt like years to get her to look at him like that again. With peace. With happiness.

He continued to smooth her skirts against her thighs. “Will you marry me?”

Her features twisted and a sob escaped her. “I cannot believe this is happening.”

His throat tightened and he knew that she was his. He swallowed against the tightness. “Will you be mine?” he asked again.

She nodded, grabbing his hands.
“Is that a yes?” he prodded. “Because I would like to hear you say it.”

She let out a choked laugh. “Yes. Yes, I will marry you.”

Dearest God. He almost knew what it was like to faint.

Caroline did everything she could to keep herself from yelling out to the world that love, when it was returned, made a person feel whole.

“So when do we do it?” he softly asked. “Do you have a date in mind?”

She swiped at her tears which wouldn’t stop. She had always wanted a June wedding. Always. When the sun was guaranteed to shine and roses were in full bloom. “In…in four weeks. The second week of June.” She smiled.

“Four weeks?” He paused. “Why do you want to wait so long?”

Still smiling, she said, “We can’t let London thinking I am my father’s daughter by rushing into this. I will also have you know that I have always wanted a June wedding. We can host a wedding breakfast outside in the open air for our families. And then you and I will head to Paris. You have
no
idea how excited I am to inherit eight nieces and nephews.”

“I will notify my aunt at once.” He eyed her and swiped his face. Leaned heavily toward her, he said in a low tone, “I should probably tell you something. I know you will be open to it, but understand that her children have been prejudiced against since birth. Her husband was not accepted in society. It was one of many reasons as to why I had to protect her and help her and those children. Because no one else would.”

Caroline paused and held his gaze. “Protect her and the children? From what?”

Ronan hesitated. “If you love me, Caroline, you will accept them. They’re beautiful. And good. So good.”

Caroline’s brows flickered. “Ronan, you’re confusing me. What don’t you think I wouldn’t accept about them?”

His expression remained grim. “My aunt’s husband was a freed slave. Antoine was a brilliant man taken too soon from this world when someone attacked him and killed him on the street for the color of his skin. People treat my aunt and her children, who are all mulatto, abominably. And when Antoine was murdered, leaving her alone to a world that saw nothing but the color of her children’s skin, I knew I had to help. Because they have no one but me and my uncle.”

A painful knot formed within her soul as her lips parted in both awe and disbelief. Her dear Ronan had been protecting them from the world. Not just debts. “I cannot wait to meet them and hold them in my arms,” she whispered. “And I will do everything in my means to protect them, too.”

His gaze softened. “I knew you would. I knew it. We will have a June wedding and go to Paris to see all of them in July.” He hesitated and added, “Mind you, I don’t have enough to pay for the wedding, but I can—”

She nudged him hard. “I wouldn’t worry about that. Alex will gladly pay for it. Not because he wants to but because he has to. I’m worth eight thousand a year for the rest of my life, you know.”

Still smoothing her skirts against her thighs, he leaned in closer and heatedly asked, “Would you be interested in doing something with me? Something we shouldn’t?”

She blinked rapidly, feeling her face turn to fire and leaned back against the chair as far as her corset would allow. “Everyone will be back soon and there is already enough jam on the table to make us both look guilty.”

He wet his lips. “While the thought did cross my mind, given we are alone, I…I wasn’t referring to that.”

She lifted a brow. Now she was intrigued. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well…” His fingers traced her gown. “I’m going to be hosting a series of unconventional parties and doing things in honor of discovering who I am and what I enjoy doing most. It’s part of my lesson plan assigned to me by Madame. I was hoping you could attend all of those events and parties with me over these next three weeks given we are officially engaged. Mind you, these parties will be a touch rowdy. Card playing, cricket, wine, cognac, and men and women the
ton
usually doesn’t care for. People my uncle and I have gotten to know throughout the years. Some of them belong to the Whipping Society.”

She poked him in the shoulder. “Invite me to every single one.”

He slowly grinned. “Consider yourself spoken for these next four weeks, and after that, for the rest of your life. Hopefully your brother won’t complain about all the courtship rules we’re about to break. Because you and I are going to—”

The basket suddenly fell over as the waggling, black furry body of a puppy bounded out of it and scurried toward them, playfully barking.

Caroline pressed her hands against her lips, overwhelmed by the moment. Her first kiss, a marriage proposal, a planned wedding in June, Paris in July
and
a puppy. It was really too much.

Ronan shifted toward the puppy and scooped him up. “Well, well. Look who decided to join us. What do you think?”

Caroline almost bounced in her chair as she reached out and rubbed not one but two hands across that soft, small head wiggling against Ronan’s chest. “I think I’m in love with both of you,” she cooed, as that wet little nose nudged her hand.

Ronan leaned in and searched her face. “Would you believe me if I…if I told you that I…well….that I’m in love with you?”

He didn’t have to say it, for she genuinely felt it, but she gloried in hearing those words spoken aloud all the same. She sensed it was difficult for him to even admit to it, which made it all the more heart-wrenching and sweet. Caroline leaned in and kissed Ronan ardently on the cheek, then on his forehead, then on his nose, then on his chin and then…on his lips. Gently.

The dog kept digging its wet nose in between them.

She pulled away with an exasperated laugh. “Yes, I believe you both love me. Ardently.”

He smiled and gestured down at the squirming bundle he held. “So what should we call him?”
There was only one name worthy of a dog that had been gifted to her for an engagement present. “Captain,” she gushed. “We should name him Captain.”

Ronan tilted his head as he glanced down at their puppy, rubbing its head. “It is rather fitting, isn’t it? Yes. Captain. I like it. Captain it is.” He released Captain, who scampered over to basket and started to chew on it.

Ronan rose. Straightening to his full height, he wordlessly held out an ungloved hand to her.

Caroline bit her lip, took the warmth of his large hand and rose.

Guiding her to the plush sofa, he seated her and then himself. Shifting against the cushions, he cleared his throat. “You don’t mind moving into my house, do you?”

Remembering all those red velvet walls with dents in them, she knew it wasn’t a place worth even redecorating. “I have a better idea. How about I buy back your family’s estate in Devonshire? The one you never got around to saving up for or buying? It’s for sale, you know.”

He paused and stared. “It is? How do you know?”
She smiled. “I never told you but I asked about the estate shortly before you returned from Paris. Mama and I took the carriage out to Devonshire to see it. Ronan, it’s beautiful. It’s everything a house should be.”

He still stared. “You would buy the estate?”

“Our children need something other than red-velvet walls, don’t they?”

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