Page 30 of The No Good Irresistible Viscount Tipton
She had been too occupied with her own thoughts to notice he had stopped talking. “Well, the face is mine. Either love it or you may leave,” she blithely said, then stilled when he seemed to sincerely contemplate his options.
Their bodies rocked with the swaying motion of the carriage. When she thought she could not abide his silence another moment, he murmured, “I think I will stay, if you do not mind.”
Those gorgeous long lashes of his lowered seductively, almost fanning on his cheek. He pulled at her in ways she could not fathom. It delighted her. It also terrified her. In a subtle movement, she leaned closer to him. Conflicting emotions whirled in her head. She wished that he would kiss her again, even if it was not the most sensible thing to do.
“Our betrothal will never work,” she said to break his invisible hold.
“You think not?”
Again, there was a shift in the air around them, going from seductive to distant. Devona had not realized she had been holding her breath until it rushed from her lips. “My family does not sanction our union.”
“It is of little concern.”
He might as well have yawned. He did not place much faith in her papa’s influence. “What of your family then?”
“I have no family,” he said, the edge in that statement speaking volumes. “The few who claim a kinship to me would not dream of interfering.”
“Oh.” So he was not prepared to forgive his family, despite all the passing years. Devona stifled a sigh. One problem at a time, she told herself. “There is Doran to consider.”
“I would rather not, if it is all the same to you.”
“Lord Tipton, if you cannot be serious—”
“Rayne.”
“Beg pardon?”
“As your betrothed, I think you should call me by my given name. Feel free to ‘my lord’ me in public. I am discovering there are certain rewards to becoming your lord. I will continue to savor each benefit.”
Exasperated, she shook her head. “Have you considered that someone has been trying to maim or kill us?”
His eyes took on a shrewd cast. “All the more reason to keep you close.”
“There is also the fact that a betrothal matures into another state. Marriage.”
“I’m game if you are.”
Devona had had enough of his glib retorts. She took her parasol and whacked him on the knuckles. His yelp gave her a certain satisfaction. It was all she could do not to laugh at his startled expression.
“Have you lost your head?” He snatched the parasol out of her hands before she could crack him again.
“No, but obviously you have. We cannot marry.”
“Oh, on the contrary, I think our blessed union would simplify matters.”
She did not like the expression she saw on his handsome face. It was part mischief with a healthy dose of determination. “Have I told you that I refuse to marry out of duty?”
“What reason do you give to Claeg’s proposal? Guilt? Sounds like duty to me.” He rolled her parasol between his palms. “Besides, no one makes a run for Gretna Green out of duty.”
She sucked in a deep breath to fortify her. “We are not eloping!”
He nodded to himself, as if agreeing to an ongoing conversation in his head. “Let’s see. The intended couple is present. We are presently traveling in a carriage. We have witnesses.” He flipped her parasol handle up to knock on the trapdoor overhead.
“We are not going to Gretna Green!”
“I knew, despite your tendency for recklessness, that you were a traditional girl at heart. You want a big wedding.”
How had this conversation gotten so out of hand? “No. No!”
