Page 56 of The Proposition
Audric spun to face her, and drawing close, he became all she could see. The carriage, the horses, the street, London, the world, all was blotted out as both of his hands reached for her, cupping her face. She saw a strange light in his green eyes, as intense and hungry as ever, but now he looked quite starved.
Her heart stopped, the rain drove hard against them, and he gave her a trembling half-smile. “Waiting is something I can no longer do.”
There in the downpour he kissed her. Clemency’s whole heart was open, and then it was full, and she went up onto her toes, looping her arms around his neck, holding him there and delighting in his warm lips, the surest banishment for the cold.
This was a true kiss—not a theft but a gift, and she swelled toward him, grateful in the receiving and in the ardently returning. She had sworn off love, but how, oh God, could she swear offthis? Surely, she would be mad to do so, even if marriage and passion and love were madness too.
His hands held her fast, and he sighed softly in the backof his throat as they kissed. It had to go on and on, she would make it so. Stubborn, stupid, infuriating, beautiful man…How was she ever to forget this?
Her whole heart was open to him, and it hurt like nothing had hurt before.
20
Now that he had her alone, the words he had practiced for days did not come as easily as he expected. His refined speeches and perfect phrasings fled him, perhaps all broken and shattered by that one pistol shot, that one mad impulsive decision that led them now to shiver and exchange glances on his sitting room rug.
“First the river and now this,” Clemency said, drying herself near the fire. Delphine had long ago retired to her room upstairs, and upon returning home, Mr. Ferrand had left Ralston with strict instructions that he and Miss Fry were not to be disturbed.
“I must look dreadful,” she continued. “Practically drowned.”
In fact, the opposite was true. With her back to him, Audric had the opportunity to gather his courage and to admire the way the silk of her dress clung just so to her figure. Her reddish-blond hair streamed behind her, having fallen free of its pins and ribbons in the carriage ride. That was his fault, he knew, for they had kissed again there, and his fingers had found their way to her hair, and whenever he touched her or held her, he was reminded again of how little she was in hisgrasp. His coat hung drying by the hearth too; Miss Fry had all but been disappeared by it out in the rain.
Audric smiled and ran his hand over his face, aware that he too was less than presentable.
“I apologize, Clemency, if my pistol shot gave you a fright.”
She shook her head and reached back to sweep her damp waves into a simple swirl on the crown of her head. This revealed her delicate profile, and the pretty architecture of her throat and upper shoulders. He took a step toward her, a single sofa between them, one he felt sure he could tear in half with need for her. But he had let his simpler impulses rule him before, and it had resulted in a loss of temper that frightened her and left him chastened and alone, prowling his house like a forgotten leper.
Stanhope had assured him during that time that he and his minions were hard at work, but that did not soothe Audric, and so he was beset on all sides by frustration.
“Oh, no, it was no more frightening than the prospect of kissing that toad,” she replied, at last turning to face him.
At that, his lip curled. “I am not proud of it, but the thought of him laying his hands on you was—is—unthinkable. No doubt he wanted to draw you into a compromising position, something untoward that he might use against you later.”
Audric regretted the words at once, for they made her face fall.
She looked away from him as she removed her gloves and placed them on the mantel to dry. “Is…Is it so outlandish to think maybe he finds me beautiful? That a man might desire me for reasons unrelated to schemes and plots?”
Audric strode quickly around the sofa, going toClemency and taking her hands in his. She did not resist him, and that at least was a comfort. The days of silence had stretched on and on, worsened by his obsessive need to trail Boyle. The scoundrel split his time between the club, a cheap dockside tavern, and the home of the Bagshots, though he sometimes visited the home of Mr. Jack Connors, and the two had apparently reconciled. That Boyle was on (what was for him) good behavior alarmed Audric immensely. It appeared that he was content to let the marriage with Clemency go through, to play that hand and gamble on it, now allegedly a true, titled baron, and while Audric remained confident Clemency would never really let that happen, a chance lingered…a small chance…
A devilishly small chance that made him completely insane. What if she married Boyle after all out of spite or because she felt driven to it by desperation?
His eyes softened as he stroked his thumb across the top of her hand, something he had imagined himself doing many times before. It seemed that this should have happened long ago, when he first fished her out of that river, struck by her beauty, struck more so by her quickness, her wit.
“En effet,are we speaking now of Boyle or of someone else?” he asked.
Clemency frowned, then quirked her lips to the side. Her eyes flitted away. “And is it so strange to ask? We are only partners after all, our roles understood and defined. Why should I not wonder if you will only pretend to want me because it humiliates your enemy?”
Audric squeezed his eyes shut and sighed, then took her by the chin and tilted it up until she relented and gazed into his eyes. “I want you everywhere, little fool.”
Her lips parted in surprise, and he found them too tempting an offer to resist. When he kissed her under the hard drumming of the rain it felt like a question, and here was the answer: No amount would be enough. Many times during their acquaintance he cautioned himself that any fire lit by her presence was simply the result of her stubborn, contrary nature, that it was not passion he felt but outrage, but he had been telling himself a lie. One could struggle against the obvious truth for only so long, and the struggle proved exhausting. But with her chin in his hand, her warm little body pressed against him, her clumsy but enthusiastic kiss was undeniably, beautifully restorative. All the lies were forgotten, the truth so evident.
Clemency put her hands on his chest and opened her mouth wider, making the sweetest, most curious noise of elation as their tongues met. Her excitement encouraged him; he wanted her, but he was a man on fire standing in dry kindling, and if he was not cautious now, he might frighten her away. They need wait only until after the assembly, when her betrothal was broken and he could come to her, a free woman, as a freed man. Audric gently moved her back, holding her by the shoulders. Her lashes fluttered, and then she was peering up at him with hot, searching eyes.
“This time without you has been a torment,” he said, hoarse. “And I brought it upon us both. My father was a cold, unmovable man, never ruled by passion or gentility. He crushed my mother’s spirit to ash, and I promised myself many times that I would never become him, but I crept too close to his shadow when I refused to hear your concerns. You were right to waver in the garden. What we do here ischallenging, and terrible, and the consequences will be serious; to ignore such things is only stubbornness, only pride.”
Clemency sighed and shook her head. “I behaved stubbornly too. I tried to write, Lord but I tried to write.”
Audric couldn’t help but laugh. “God. So did I.”
