Page 31 of Lady Frederica and the Scot Who Would Not
He was struck speechless that she would wed him in an effort to aid her sister. It was rare in his world to come across selfless people. “I’m afraid you’ll have to elaborate. Your father merely told me I had helped to thoroughly ruin you in the eyes of theton, and it didn’t matter that I hadn’t actually ruined you. Then he informed me I needed to wed you or live with the fact that I had left you without prospects for the rest of your life.”
“And you said you’d live with it.”
He hated the tentativeness he heard in her voice. He knew enough of her to know she was not a tentative woman. That he was making her feel that way pained him. “I said I’d ensure you had means for your life. I’ll be settling a large fortune on you.”
She slumped a little beside him, and he felt her defeat deep in his bones.
“Your money won’t save my sister’s dream.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “And I don’t want your money.” Her volume rose with conviction. “You must listen to me.” And now the self-assured woman had returned. He almost smiled in relief. “I’ve never pleaded for anything in my life, but for my sister’s happiness, I’ll plead.” He didn’t want her to feel she had to plead for anything. He’d pleaded in his life. For food. For shelter. For work. The humiliation left a scar on your soul that never fully faded, but he couldn’t give her what she wanted, so he sat in silence.
“You see, Vivian was almost always ill when we were younger, and Guinevere and I filled her with tales of romance to keep her going. We told her she must live to one day find her true love, and she did. It doesn’t matter that I think he’s boring and that I can’t see what she sees in him. I didn’t understand that until today, so I went on foolishly and recklessly doing what I wanted. But now I truly see that she loves him. She gave him up because of me. She gave up the man she loves to spare him pain caused by a mess I created. His family told him if he wed her, they would cut him off, and he told them he didn’t care. Don’t you see? He’s honorable and brave and loves her.”
He did. Frederica had a huge heart. It made his chest tighten. “Yes, I see.” Her pain made his chest tighten in a way he didn’t like. It felt suspiciously like caring. He barely knew her, yet it felt strangely as if there were an invisible tie suddenly binding them. No, that could not be right. It was the moonlight. This damned arbor. Her spicy-sweet scent. Her husky voice. Her bloody honor and bravery. All things that tempted him to kiss her, to touch her.
“She’s the best person I know,” Frederica said. “She is willing to give Lord Asterly up to ensure his family does not cast him aside, and I wasn’t even willing to behave properly until she was wed. That’s all she asked of me.”
“She asked you to be someone you aren’t, Frederica.” He didn’t like that she was putting all the blame on herself.
“Yes, but only for a short time. I could have done that, but I chose to be selfish.”
“And now you want to sacrifice yourself to a marriage you never wanted with a man you barely know?”
She grabbed his hand. Her warm skin against his quickened his breathing, his heartbeat. He’d been careful not to touch her after the initial leg brush, and her hand on his was like a red-hot poker to the inferno of desire he had for her. “I know we’d have passion,” she said, little innocent lamb that she was. Oh yes, they’d have passion. He wanted to consume her on the spot now. As she spoke, he took deep breaths. “Or at least I think we would.”
Deep breathing was not helping at all. His craving for her climbed within him like flames licking and reaching for oxygen long denied. He struggled to find control, but then she placed his hand on her hammering heart. Ah damn. His mind went blank as to why he should not touch her and lust thickened the blood in his veins.
“This,” she whispered, “is how you make me feel.”
Each beat of her heart thumped through her silk gown, seeped into his skin, and echoed through him to the chambers of his own heart. He wanted to get lost in her. It scared him how much he wanted it. He was like a drowning man, but he was drowning in his craving for her. He struggled against it, searching for the strength to break contact, but the strength eluded him. His body became hotter, harder, his mind turning over all he wanted to do to her. He wanted to settle her over his lap, ruck up her silk skirts, and claim her. Slowly. Thoroughly.
No, no, no.He squeezed his eyes shut, his senses sizzling in his ears.
“I know you must think worlds separate us…” she said.
Yes, damn it all. That was it. That was the lifeline to reason he had needed. He was at once bloody relieved and angry that she’d said it. He didn’t know where he found the will to pull his hand away from her, but he did. Her soft exhalation of disappointment filled his ears like a loud roar.
“If I were to wed you,” he said, hearing how his lust strained his voice, “you’d be in danger, Frederica.” It was the absolute truth, though not the whole truth of why he needed and wanted to keep a distance from her. “And even if I did wed you, Frederica, I have walls up that I cannot let down. Eventually you’d hate me. I can’t allow that life for you, even if you’re willing to accept it for yourself.”
“You could wed me, and we could live apart. Then you wouldn’t have to worry about your walls at all.”
The suggestion was tempting and ridiculous.
“That wouldn’t work for me, Frederica. I’m not the sort of man to part with what I’ve acquired.”
“I see,” she said, her tone wounded. “I do believe you’ve managed to make me doubt my desirability more than I ever did before.”
Good God, her hurt struck a chord deep within him. “Frederica—”
“I shouldn’t have said that. Never mind. I thank you for listening to me.” She started to rise, but compelled by yet more madness that she inspired, he caught her by the wrist before she turned away.
“Why would you doubt that you’re desirable?” he asked.
“Well, I have a particular knack for sending gentlemen running from me at balls. The barbed tongues of thetonlabeled me Frightful Frederica.”
He wanted to pummel every man who’d ever said that about her and push the jealous harpies into the nearest fountain.Frightful.He clenched his teeth, his temples beating in time with his temper. She was not frightful; she was magnificent. She was different, and that scared them. She was free, where they were constrained. Bloody asses, the lot of them. One thing he could do for her before he left was show her how desirable she was. “I cannot think a man could meet you and not want you, Frederica.”
She smirked at him. “Please don’t offer me platitudes on how my eyes are like a storm cloud, or my smile the sun, or my hair makes you want to unpin it.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, steeling himself against succumbing too far with what he was about to do. He pulled her so close that her softness crushed to his hardness, and awareness of her body ripped down the length of him. It was like plunging himself into warm water. He wanted to float there, allow her to cover him, become one with him. He brought his hands to her face—it was far too dangerous to allow his hands to rest anywhere else—and cupped her perfectly carved bones. “What I like most about you is your bluntness, your stubborn and inquisitive mind, and your fierce loyalty to your sister. Any man who has ever run from you was too weak for you, and the women are simply jealous. They wish they had the bravery to live their lives as they want to, instead of how they think they ought to.”
