Page 40 of Tempting Harriet
She rested her head on his shoulder. “I ought not to be here with you,” she said. “It is not right.”
He chuckled. “What quaint prudery you suffer from, Harriet,” he said. “You have given me all on several occasions and yet now you mutter about impropriety becauseyou ride about the streets of London on my lap. Kiss me.”
“And because I am going into the country with you and the duchess and your bride and her family,” she said, sittingup, “and no one but you or me knows that I am your mistress. I could not say no, Archie, but I ought to have. Sometimes I am frightened by the changes in myself.”
“Hush.” There was a harshness in his voice. He drew her head back down to his shoulder and held it there with ahand that was none too gentle. “You were invited to amuseAunt Sophie, Harriet. It is not very flattering, but under thecircumstances you may find it consoling. Amuse Aunt Sophie. Make her happy. Just the sight of you makes herhappy.”
Yes. She closed her eyes. She would console herself thus. There was truth in it. She would not be simply rationalizing.
“Archie,” she said after a short silence, her eyes still closed, “your betrothal is going to be announced, is it not?”
“Not to my knowledge,” he said. “But this thing is beyond me, Harriet. It seems to be in the hands of Barthorpe and my grandmother. It does not matter. Kiss me again.”
She had not planned to say what she was about to say. She did not want to say it. She felt physically sick.“Archie,” she said, “I don’t think we should—”
But his mouth, pressed hard to hers, stopped her. “Hush,” he said harshly. “Hush.”
“It is not—” she began again, but his mouth stopped her again.
“No,” he said, looking fiercely into her eyes when he finally lifted his head away. “I’ll not let you end it, Harriet. Not yet. I cannot do without you. Not yet. I have not hadenough of you. Not nearly enough. Nor you of me. Tell meyou are tired of me.”
“I—”
“Tell me you are tired of me,” he commanded again.
She blinked when her vision became suddenly blurred.
“You cannot,” he said. “And you will not end it just because you are having a crisis of conscience again. To hell with conscience. Oh, Harriet.” He drew her head downonce more and rested a cheek against the top of it. “To hellwith conscience. I need you for a while longer yet. Tell meyou need me.”
She was frightened. There was more in his voice than physical need. What did she mean to him? It seemed to herthat a very thin wall was between them and that she couldwith one hand reach up and send it crashing down. But thethought terrified her. To what end? The future, which already was painful in prospect, would be unbearable.
“Tell me,” he whispered urgently.
“I need you,” she said. “We need each other for a little while longer i-in bed, Archie.”
She did not understand the word he muttered. She thought it was probably a swear word. She closed her eyesand cuddled against him.
Chapter 13
It was quite as bad as the Duke of Tenby had feared. But no worse than he had expected. Apart from his grandmother,his aunt, and himself—and Harriet, of course—everyonewho gathered at Barthorpe Hall on Friday was a relative ofthe earl’s. It really was a family gathering and obviouslyhad only one purpose. The earl, he decided, was a determined man. He was forcing the issue of his daughter’s marriage.
Viscount Sotheby, the earl’s brother and heir, was a guest, as were Lord and Lady Mingay, the countess’sbrother and his wife, with their son, Mr. Peter Horn, andthree children not yet out of the nursery.
“It is all very satisfactory, Tenby,” his grandmother said when he appeared in her dressing room before dinner onthe first evening to escort her downstairs. “The way hasbeen made easy for you. I do not need to tell you how toproceed during the coming few days, of course.”
No, she did not need to tell him. He had not expected there to be any going back after this particular weekend,and indeed there was not. Strangely, it was almost a reliefto know himself so thoroughly trapped. It would be evenmore of a relief when he was finally betrothed. Exceptthat...
“Tenby?” His grandmother spoke rather sharply.
“I shall have a few words with Barthorpe this evening, Grandmama,” he said, “and arrange a more formal meetingwith him for tomorrow.”
She smiled. “Your grandfather would be proud of you if he were here now,” she said. “Next week we will make apublic announcement and summon your mother to town.She hates to leave the country, but for such an important occasion she will come. We will plan a splendid ball for thefollowing week. Even the Prince Regent will come, I daresay. And then there will be the wedding plans. I do think itwould be a good idea for it to take place before the end ofthe Season, Tenby, so that everyone of any importance willbe there.”
“Grandmama,” he said, extending his arm for hers, “I am not even betrothed yet.”
“But there is a perfect understanding between both families,” she said. “One cannot begin plans too early. However, they need not concern you. Lady Barthorpe and I will set our heads together over the coming few days.”
Yes, none of the plans need concern him. None of them. His only duties were to make the offer, to make the vows,and to get his child on the girl as soon after their weddingnight as was humanly possible. Marriage was really notsuch a difficult business. Only a damned dreary one.
