Page 82 of The Duelist for the Ton
The man in the doorway stared at her, his eyes darkening, and she caught her breath as her skin tightened with want. A pool of heat swelled in her center, and she curled her hands into fists, digging her fingernails into her palms to stem the tremors in her body.
“Wh-what do you want,colonel?”
Stephen’s eyes narrowed and a flicker of pain gleaned in their dark depths. “You were distressed.”
“And that bothers you how?”
“No, Portia, I…I mean…” He shook his head. “I’ve made a mess of this, have I not?”
“I thought you stated your position clearly and firmly.”
“Yes, but…” He stiffened and glanced over his shoulder, and her stomach fluttered as she heard footsteps. “I’m here to declare myself.”
“Have you not already done that?”
“I-I’ve spoken to your brother.”
“I’m very pleased for you both. Could you not wait until morning to speak to me?”
“No, it cannot wait until morning. You see, I…” He colored, glanced over his shoulder, then lowered his voice. “I-I’ve agreed to marry you.”
A little thrill coursed through her body, settling in her center. Ignoring it, she folded her arms.
“Oh, you have, have you? On pain of a shooting, no doubt.”
A smile played on his lips. “Your brother’s an insistent man. I shan’t say I’d relish having him as a brother-in-law, but I’d rather that than have him as my enemy.”
Hurt swelled in her soul, and as he reached for her hand, she drew back.
“And is this how you declare yourself? Not content with accusing me of scheming to entrap you into matrimony, you now tell me that you will succumb to the state on account of not wanting my brother as an enemy?” She let out a snort. “If that’s the case, I suggest you marryhim. He’s incapable of making any woman happy, so you’d be doing womankind a favor.”
“Don’t be—”
“Don’t bewhat?” she said, her voice rising. “Ungrateful that you’ll slide the parson’s noose over your neck to preserve your skin?”
“Of course not,” he said. “I thought it’s what you wanted. It’s whatIwant, Portia. Can’t you see that? I’ve wanted to marry you for a long time. And tonight made me realize as much.”
“Well, as my brother says, there’s a sizeable dowry in it.”
“I’m not marrying you for your dowry, woman!” he said, taking her shoulders. “I’m marrying you because Iloveyou!”
“Don’t—” she began, but he silenced her with a kiss, claiming her lips with his own. A whimper escaped her as she surrendered, parting her lips as he thrust his tongue inside like a condemned man ready to devour his last meal.
“Oh, Portia, Portia…” he whispered, peppering her face with tiny, open-mouthed kisses that sent a firebolt of desire straight to her center. “I cannot bear the notion of you in pain, and I curse myself for being the one to cause it.” He paused and cupped her face in his hands. “I’ve hurt you today—so many times…”
His voice cracked and he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they were bright with moisture.
“Your pain is my pain, my love,” he whispered. “But I shall spend the rest of my days easing your pain, worshipping you and loving you.”
“You cannot love me,” she said. “You love your idea of what you wish me to be—and I cannot be that, Stephen.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” he said. “Do you think love happens when a man comes face to face with his idea of perfection?” He shook his head. “No, it is what differentiates us that I love—that you and I are willing to challenge each other, to express our differences and to celebrate them. It is that which makes us perfect for each other.”
He tilted her chin up and lowered his mouth to hers once more, but before their lips met, a voice called out.
“Quick!” Portia said, pulling him into the chamber and closing the door. “That’s Beatrice, and she’s with her maid. We can’t be seen.”
“You don’t want Lady Hardwick to see how much I love you?”
