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That thought frightened her as no other had. She couldn't find out what she would be missing without ruining herself. She would have to marry Mr. Montague to find out where his kisses led.

It would serve him right if she accepted his offer. Lord Darley would never offer for her now. She could never accept Mr. Montague's cash for the lost necklace. She and her family would have to return penniless to the farm and pray for some means of finding the money to pay the debts. Unless she married Montague.

Marian felt as if her insides were on fire as she considered that notion. Places she could not even think about heated shamefully. And she had yet to consider Montague's wrath at being forced unwillingly into marriage.

She closed her eyes and leaned her fevered brow against the cool pane of glass and prayed that he would not murder her in her sleep.

Chapter 18

"Lady Grace, if I might, I would like to speak with Lady Marian in the salon," Reginald said stiffly upon finding the ladies leaving the breakfast room. There was no sign of the ephemeral marquess. It was as if he had never been.

Reginald knew better.

Lady Grace nodded and departed in the direction of her chambers, leaving Marian to stand awkwardly in the grand hall, avoiding his look. Reginald caught her arm and steered her toward the salon that had been recently stripped of its Holland covers. A watery sunshine peered through the newly cleaned windows to illuminate the stately, old-fashioned furniture.

He dropped her arm once they were in the room. She still would not face him. Her back was stiff and uncompromising, but the thin muslin did not disguise the soft swell of her hips and derriere. Reginald did not often admire the posterior portions of a lady, but knowing how close he was to possessing the right to touch her, he could not help himself—and doing so was making the rest of his thinking fuzzy.

Reginald tried to raise his mind to a more serious level, but Marian chose that moment to walk toward the window. The sunlight filtered right through that bit of gauze and muslin, revealing a clear outline of what lay beneath, and his thoughts fell in tatters once again.

Just last night he'd had the opportunity to learn some of the soft swells of flesh he saw silhouetted now. He found himself mentally stripping the clothes from her back.

Appalled, Reginald closed his eyes and tried to recover his planned speech. Women never had this effect on him. He had a satisfactory mistress who relieved his physical needs in creative ways. He never thought about her when he wasn't in her arms.

Outside of that relationship, he found ladies to be boring, on the whole. They were selfish, uneducated, small-minded, and generally did not find much pleasure in physical pursuits. Why then, was he unable to keep his physical cravings and his mental faculties off the female in the window?

There was only one solution. He must have this over and done with at once. He'd never imagined proposing marriage. He had no easily prepared speech. He just knew his duty and had some notion of how the woman he spoke to would think. He tried to combine the two in some modicum of rationality.

"Lady Marian, I know I am not the grand match that you had imagined, but I can keep you comfortably, and I think we would suit very well. If you think you might return my affections, I hope you might do me the honor of accepting my suit."

Marian heard the stiffness in his voice. Montague looked very well this morning, even if his cravat wasn't stiff or his waistcoat buttoned. She didn't need to turn around to see how his light-colored eyes watched her from a carved visage that could have been made of wood for all one could detect emotion in it. He didn't wish to marry her. He had made that very clear despite his words.

"I'm appreciative of the honor you do me." She had practiced her response all morning. She didn't mean to be malicious, but when she sensed he relaxed in relief, she knew she had not chosen her words wisely. He thought she was about to turn him away.

Marian gathered her courage and faced him. That was the least she could do, show him the same resolution he was showing her. She thought she could almost see genuine affection in his eyes. She was about to destroy that.

"I'm also appreciative of the fact that you offer because you must. That is not the way I would start out married life. Perhaps we could have a long betrothal?"

To give him credit, he did not look horribly floored by her reply. He recovered swiftly, although as she had expected, the gleam in his eye disappeared. He made a formal nod of agreement, seemed to debate the proper procedure involved in declaring his delight, and evidently decided on the obvious. He drew her into his arms and kissed her.

It wasn't quite the same as before. It was a very controlled kiss, one of possession and decision, as if once he had decided she was his, he meant to mark her. He succeeded. Marian could still feel the handprints on her back when he stepped away.

"I shall have the announcement made as soon as we return to London. You have made me a very happy man, my lady."

Marian shot him a look of annoyance. "No, I haven't. We haven't bothered in polite deceit with each other before. I see no reason to start now. You had to offer for me, and under the circumstances, I could see no choice but to accept. I am conscious of the favor you do me, and I will try very hard not to interfere in your life. In return, I trust you will not expect a great deal of me. I suspect the less we see each other, the happier we will be."

Reginald offered a small smile. "If your wretched cousin is listening through the walls again, he will undoubtedly choke on his laughter right now. Do you wish to amuse him more?"

"I do not see what is so amusing. I would have been happily married to Lord Darley had you not interfered. I would have the funds to pay my mother's debts had your valet not made off with my necklace. As it is, I have no other alternative but to return penniless to the country and watch our home be auctioned off. I find no amusement in those circumstances. I am doing what I must, just as you are. I was hoping we could come to some amicable agreement. If I am mistaken, please tell me."

His face went cold and tight. "I am not in the least interested in a modern marriage. If I am to be saddled with a wife, it will be to a wife who belongs to me alone. You will find among my other disagreeable habits, I tend to be very possessive of what little I own."

Marian scowled and returned to the window. "You do not own me, nor will you ever. I am prepared to respect you, even to obey you if your commands are rational, but I am not prepared to turn myself into a doorstop for your convenience."

Reginald stopped his fingers from curling into fists of frustration and wondered how often he would wish to feel them around her throat. "I am not asking you to be a doorstop. I am asking you to be my wife.
My
wife, not anyone else's. That means even if you find yourself enamored of some other exquisite, that you remain loyal to me. Is that clear enough?"

Marian looked at him with surprise. "I am not exactly certain. What precisely am I supposed to do with some other 'exquisite' if I find myself enamored of him? Run off to Gretna Green? Since I will be married to you, that hardly seems feasible."

Stunned, Reginald took a moment to gather thoughts that had just been blasted to the four winds. She was an intelligent woman. He knew that. She was twenty-two years of age and well-read. Of course, she had not lived in the sophisticated world of society, but surely even in the country...

Nothing was certain when it came to Lady Marian Lawrence. She seemed genuinely curious. Reginald raked his hand through his hair and tried to imagine explaining what he had thought her capable of doing when she in all probability did not even know what he meant to do to her once they were wed. He didn't think even his versatile tongue could explain. He shook his head in surrender.

"Never mind. We will have this conversation after we have been married for a while. Just be warned that I will not share you with another man."

A gleam of enlightenment reached her eyes. Reginald would have been relieved had he not been distracted once again by the sight of her silhouette in the sunlight. He would have to put shades on all his windows if he meant to remain a sane man. He was beginning to think a long betrothal would not be wise.

"Did you really think I was capable of kissing another man? Or doing what we did last night?" Her cheeks reddened as she asked this, but she seemed determined to keep their relationship on an honest basis.

Reginald didn't need to be reminded of what they had done. His mind couldn't go beyond the moment. He itched to caress the breasts so temptingly displayed beneath that flimsy material. "I am not the only man in the world who knows how to kiss," he responded dryly. It was a wonder she did not see the direction of his gaze and run for shelter.

Instead, she stepped forward until he need only lift his hand to have her. "Kissing with other men isn't nearly as pleasant as kissing with you," she said, unexpectedly.

He couldn't help it. She had lips really too wide for her face, but they were moist and red as summer strawberries. He could imagine a dozen things she could do with those lips, all of them pleasant. Tasting them was absolutely required.

This time, the kiss was not nearly so controlled as earlier. Reginald collected her in his arms, pressed her tight against his length, and took her mouth with an intensity that had them both fevered in seconds. Their tongues were already discovering the places remembered from prior explorations when the salon door exploded open.

"Dammit, Montague! Can you not keep your hands off her until the vows are said? I will recommend to the Lady Grace that an early date be set." Darley stopped behind a carved mahogany chair and curled his fingers around the back.

Reginald gently returned the lady to her feet. His eyes didn't stray from her as he answered his friend. "I was just thinking the same myself. How about you, my dear? Shall we make this a short betrothal?"

She looked up at him with alarm. "We scarcely know each other," she whispered.

Reginald shrugged. "We'll learn quicker once we're married. I think we'd best take the news to your mother, then set about our departure. I'll not be content until I have my back to this place."

The harsh, arrogant Montague was back, but his hand was still wrapped around hers, and his grip was tender. Marian contemplated this contradiction as she allowed him to drag her from the room. She was terrified of having bound herself to a man who held half the world in contempt, but some other part of her, some hidden private part of her, craved to know his affection. She hoped with time that the hidden part would overcome the terrified part.

They found Lady Grace in her sitting room, sharing tea with the scar-faced marquess. The other man stood when they entered the room, then returned to his seat when Marian was seated.

"May I extend my felicitations?" he asked, raising his brow.

Reginald ignored him, turning to Lady Grace instead. "Lady Marian has consented to take my hand in marriage, madam. I hope we have your approval."

Marian's mother looked to her daughter to confirm that everything was as it should be and, reassured by the stunned look she found there, she smiled. "Of course, Mr. Montague. Marian has ever had a mind of her own. I would not think to question it at this late date."

"Then with your permission, madam, I would like us to return to town after nuncheon. We would both prefer to make this a short betrothal, and there are things I must do in preparation."

The marquess intruded. "I don't see the hurry. The ladies have only just arrived and I am just beginning to make their acquaintance."

Reginald gave him an impatient look. "And you are enjoying the service at the expense of myself and Darley. You have the ruby now. Pay for the servants yourself. We will be leaving this afternoon."

"The ruby?" Lady Grace looked up expectantly. "Has it been found? I certainly hope so. Marian's father meant it to be part of her dowry."

The marquess bowed politely in her direction. "We have yet to discuss the settlements, my lady. The ruby, however, wherever it is, is part of the estate."

Lady Grace blinked in surprise. "No. No, I am quite certain it is not. I would never have taken it otherwise. George gave it to me quite explicitly when Marian was born, saying it was mine until our daughter wed. But the point is moot, is it not? The necklace is gone. I am sorry, for I could have wished Marian to have something of her own when she went into marriage."