Page 101 of Bad Luck Bride

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That was too much. Kay turned. “The only person who’s ever tried to ruin me is you,” she shot back. “And,” she added with a scowl, taking a threatening step toward the other woman, “if you don’t stop pestering me, I’ll slap your face right here in front of everyone, something I daresay half the ton has wanted to do at some point in your odious career.”

“Hear, hear,” Delia said, coming up beside her. “Please leave, Mrs. Dawlish, before I have you removed from the premises.”

The woman retreated, but only as far as the sidewalk, where she continued to watch avidly as Magdelene said goodbye to her younger daughter and moved to step into the cab.

The driver held out his hand to assist her as Kay gave Josephine one last hug. She turned to follow her mother just as a hansom pulled into the courtyard, and Kay froze, paralyzed, hardly able to believe her eyes.

“Devlin?” she cried.

He didn’t wait for the driver, but flung back the hansom doors and exited the vehicle before the man had even climbed down from the box. He started toward her, and she met him halfway. Heedless of Delilah Dawlish and all the other people milling about, she flung herself into his arms with enough force to send his hat flying off his head.

“Kay, my darling!” He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her everywhere he could—her cheek, her nose, her forehead, her mouth—making her laugh with joy. Until she remembered.

“But what are you doing here?” she cried, pulling back, staring athim, joy giving way to chagrin. “You left for Victoria Station over two hours ago!”

“I’m not going.”

“What?”

“I promised you I’d never leave you again, remember? How can I go without you?”

“But the hotel. The fire. You have to go.”

He shook his head. “It can wait. Listen,” he added as she started to protest. “I can go to the Faculty Office in the morning and apply for a special license. It’ll take about a week. We’ll get married at the Registry Office and take the next train we can get. I’ll be delayed, but we’ll be respectably married, and we won’t have to be apart.”

She laughed. It was so wonderful, so absurd, and so typical of their tumultuous fourteen-year, on-again-off-again romance, she couldn’t help it.

“What?” he said, laughing with her, clearly baffled. “Why are you laughing?”

“Because you nearly missed me. I was leaving.”

“Leaving?” He looked past her to the waiting growler and her mother watching them through the window. “Leaving for where?”

“Egypt.”

He swerved his head to look at her again. “What?”

She nodded, still laughing. “You don’t have to get a special license, and you don’t have to delay your trip. Delia’s going to present Josephine at court and chaperone her while Mama and I come with you to Cairo. And we’ll get married there. All very proper and aboveboard.”

He let go of her, raking his hand through his hair, looking utterly confounded. “And to think we almost missed each other,” he muttered.

“But we didn’t. That’s destiny, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely.” He lifted his hand to cup her face. “I love you,” he said. “I love you more than my life.”

“And I love you,” she said.

“A good thing indeed, since we’re getting married.” He moved to take her in his arms again, but she pulled back, turning toward the woman staring at them from the nearby sidewalk.

“Did you hear that, Mrs. Dawlish?” she said. “Devlin Sharpe and I are getting married. We’re going to Egypt and getting married there, with my mother along to chaperone us. So put that in your gossipmongering pipe and smoke it!”

She turned back to Devlin and wrapped her arms around his neck. “We’re not being nearly scandalous enough for her, I fear. Getting respectably married is so terribly mundane. Should we give her one last scandal to write about before we go?”

He grinned, his arms coming up to wrap around her. “Like what?”

“Kiss me, you wretched man.”

He lifted one eyebrow dubiously. “Here?”

“Right here. Or do I have to shamelessly fling myself at you and kiss you first?”

Fortunately, he didn’t let it come to that. Bending his head, he captured her mouth in a long, hot, totally satisfying kiss that had her mother squawking like a bilious pigeon and caused everyone else watching them to burst into a round of applause.

Except Mrs. Dawlish, of course, who, when Kay and Devlin drew apart, was still scribbling in her awful little black notebook.

“Heavens,” Kay said, trying to catch her breath as she looked again at the only man she had ever loved. “You always could kiss me senseless.”

“I wanted to give you a kiss they’ll talk about for years.”

“I hope you succeeded, my darling.” She tightened her arms around his neck, giving him a wicked grin. “I certainly hope so.”