Page 78 of Heiress Gone Wild

“In such circumstances,” he continued, “the right thing to do would have been to remove myself from your society altogether, but my sisters gainsaid me there, insisting that I stay through your birthday. Having broken my word to them once before, I knew I could not do so a second time.”

“Wait,” she implored, spurred out of her speechless state. “Go back to the part about your ungovernable desires, for I’d like to hear that part again. I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

“Don’t you?” A smile touched his mouth. “After last night, I think you do.”

She bit her lip, unable to deny it, too embarrassed to admit it, though she supposed her own wanton behavior last night made any admission unnecessary.

“Because of that,” he continued in the wake of her silence, “there can be only one result, and I would prefer that result to be an honorable one, made by choice and not by circumstance.”

She frowned, trying to understand. “So, you think we’ll lose our heads and do... something stupid and be forced to marry.”

“I’d prefer it didn’t come to that. In marrying me, you wouldn’t need to worry you were marrying a man who had designs on your money. And no one could argue that it wouldn’t be a suitable match. It’s quite fitting, really—you and I.”

“But—” Marjorie broke off, uneasiness seeping into her consciousness, nudging aside delirious, romantic thrills about her first proposal. “Are you—”

She stopped again, though she didn’t know why it was so hard to ask the obvious question. But she had to know. “Jonathan, are you falling in love with me?”

Even as she said it, she laughed a little, for it seemed so absurd, despite his confession of passion.

“No,” he said. “I’m already there.”

Any inclination to laugh vanished. She stared at him, feeling as if the floor was sliding out from beneath her. She didn’t believe him. How could she? It was just too ridiculous. All he’d done lately was snub her. And besides, men like him didn’t fall in love and settle down, not for real, not for life. And that was what marriage was—at least for her. A life, together, forever.

“And after last night,” he went on as she didn’t speak, “I thought perhaps you might have similar feelings.”

She inhaled sharply, fearing he was right.

“That’s ridiculous.” She jerked her hands free. “Two months is far too short an acquaintance for feelings like that.”

“Is it?” He made a rueful face. “I think I started falling for you the moment I found you in my cabin aboard theNeptune. It was only after last night that I finally stopped fighting it and admitted it to myself.”

Inside, she began to shake. “Well, even if that’s true for you, it isn’t for me!” she burst out. “I refuse to fall in love with a man just because he’s the first one who’s ever kissed me! It’s the principle of the thing,” she added, scowling as he pressed a smile from his lips.

“I hope that doesn’t mean you intend to sample other men’s kisses before you decide? Because if so, I fear I shall have to jump off a cliff.”

She made a stifled sound halfway between a panicked sob and a wild laugh, and, desperate, she changed tactics. “So, let me see if I have this right,” she said, her voice hardening as she forced herself to cast aside romance and consider the cold, hard facts. “We marry, we have a few weeks together, satisfying our... our...”

“Mutual passion?” he supplied when she couldn’t find the words.

“Infatuation,” she corrected. “And then you go off to explore Africa while I wait by the fireside like a dutiful wife. Is that the plan?”

“Well, I hadn’t got as far as making definite plans, but as for South Africa, you can’t come with me. If war with the Boers breaks out, things could get dicey. I won’t put you in that sort of danger. But—”

“But you’d put yourself in it,” she interrupted. “God, Jonathan, if anything happened to you—” She stopped, the horrific possibility of his death choking her, indicating that his guess about her feelings had some validity, and she worked to regain her composure and prove him wrong. “If you died out there, I’d be a widow,” she said at last, managing to inject a prim disinterest into her voice she didn’t feel in the least. “No, thank you.”

“I could just as easily die hit by an omnibus while crossing a London street,” he pointed out.

“It’s not the same thing!”

“It would be to me,” he said dryly.

“Stop joking!”

“Sorry,” he said at once. “But I’m a bit nervous, Marjorie, I admit. Most men are, I suppose, when they come to propose marriage. As for my death, I don’t intend to die in South Africa. I have too much waiting for me here.”

“Only if you decide to come back.”

“Ah,” he murmured, “now we’re getting to it.”

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