Page 73 of A Rogue to Ruin
“You’re of age.”
She was, but it was the right thing to do. “Yes. We don’t need his permission. We must have the banns read, however.” She calculated in her head. “We can marry any time after the twenty-fifth.” She frowned. “That’s so far away.”
“It’s not as if you won’t see me before then.”
“But like this?”
“We’ve been…innovative on plenty of occasions.”
She laughed again as a joy she’d never imagined surged through her. “If you become the earl soon, you could just get a special license and we could marry right away. That’s what Anthony did when he wed Jane. They didn’t even get married in a church.”
He curled a lock of her hair around his fingers. “Is that what you’d like?”
“I like whatever allows me to be with you. And a special license means we wouldn’t have to be apart at all.”
“Then I shall get a special license as soon as I may.”
What if her godfather contested his claim? Uneasiness settled through her. She shivered.
“Are you cold?” he asked, pulling her more tightly against him.
“Yes. I should get dressed.” And cleaned up.
“I suppose we must. You need to get home. We’ve been gone too long.”
She should tell him that her godfather had doubts about him. Except she’d learned so much about him today, seen the goodness and generosity inside him. She’d convince her godfather that Rafe would bring honor and integrity to the earldom.
He kissed her forehead before sitting up and swinging his legs off the side of the bed. Anne touched his back. “You’ll be a wonderful earl.”
He looked at her over his shoulder. “You’re biased.”
“Because I know you, and I’m right.”
His lips parted as if he was going to respond, but he didn’t. Turning his head straight, he left the bed and went to a dresser.
A moment later, he returned with a cloth and gave it to her before gathering their clothing.
Yes, she knew him—the man who owned a bookshop and a house in Cheapside. The man who’d adored his wife and lost her and his unborn child. Her heart ached and longed for this man.
Even so, she couldn’t dismiss the persistent feeling that there was more of him that he kept concealed beneath the surface. The part of him that couldn’t love her—or that he wouldn’t allow to. Yet.
She pushed her apprehension away. There would be time to discover all his secrets.
A lifetime.
* * *
On the return drive to Mayfair, Rafe wondered if he’d made a mistake. Not about the sex or even about marrying her, but about the reasons for it.
Rather, one reason.
Marrying her would give him access to her godfather, and hopefully to evidence that would prove he’d killed his brother and plotted to kill Rafe. It wouldn’t be enough to simply reclaim his stolen title, Rafe needed to see his murdering uncle strung up for his crimes.
He glanced over at Anne as he drove into the Grosvenor mews. Her face was hidden by the veil, but he didn’t need to see her features to feel the visceral attraction that had only intensified since he taken her to his bed.
At the very least, he should tell her about her godfather, and he would. Soon. He wouldn’t regret asking her to marry him. The matter with Mallory wasn’t the primary reason behind it, not that it mattered. It was done. They would be wed, and Rafe would ensure her godfather was punished appropriately.
He pulled the cabriolet to a stop and got out to help her descend from the vehicle. Squeezing her hand, he leaned his head down next to hers. “Don’t come to my interview with Colton.” He was going to drive around to her brother-in-law’s house to speak with him about the marriage. “I know you’re tempted.”
