Chapter 18

Kate paced from the cold fireplace to the bay window that overlooked the street in the front reception room. Carriages flashed to and fro in the bright sunlight on the busy street. She leaned forward, peering up and down, but Marcus's polished curricle was nowhere in sight. A shiver coursed through her, and she backed away from the window. It wouldn't do for him to see her looking for him. Instead, she padded over to the gilt-and-white chaise and slowly lowered herself onto it. She picked up her white kid gloves for the thousandth time, put them on then pulled them off. Waiting always made her fly to pieces, although she should've been used to waiting for him by now.

It had been two agonizing days since their glorious tryst at his townhouse. Two days in which she'd been able to do nothing but think about Marcus and long for his embrace once more. She wasn't certain why she'd not heard from him yesterday, but this morning, she'd received a note asking her to drive in the park with him this afternoon, making her blush. They'd not made it to the park on Saturday, being very much otherwise occupied, but now she could only believe once there she would receive his longed-for proposal. Of course, he'd all but said the words on Saturday, but today would make it official. She was going to marry Lord Haversham.

Her hands shook, and she rubbed them up and down her arms. The trembling continued until she vibrated like a stringed instrument when plucked. Why should she be so nervous? Perhaps because every time she allowed herself to remember the consummate pleasure Marcus had given her, she couldn't believe that utter happiness was just within her grasp. Certainly, he would propose today. And she would accept him, and they would be so very happy together.

How she could believe such a thing baffled her, given their colorful history, yet in her heart she knew it to be true. Marcus filled her waking hours until she couldn't bear waiting to see him. As now.

A rap on the door sent her heartbeat pounding. She must remain calm. It wouldn't be seemly for him to know how much he affected her every time they met nor how she longed to see him each day. Except he probably did. After Saturday, he likely knew everything there was to know about her.

Kate straightened the skirts of her blue muslin gown, the one she'd worn to the park the day of their impromptu battle. The same color she'd been wearing the night she'd noticed him with anything but annoyance for the first time. Cornflower blue always became her. She hoped he thought so as well.

"Lord Haversham," Parker announced him, even as the tall, dark lord strode toward her.

"Miss Locke. How do you do?" He bowed then grasped her hand and kissed it, sending a white-hot streak of fire up her arm.

At his touch, all the memories of them together in his bed assailed her, so that she quite suddenly couldn't breathe. After a moment, she managed, "Well, my lord. I am well." She cleared her throat. "I trust you are also?" She must get hold of herself and stop this infernal trembling. Like a leaf fluttering on the breeze.

"Indeed, Miss Locke, I am in fine fettle and eager for our ride." He smiled, his eyes deepening to near black.

"Yes, yes, as am I." She shot up out of the chair, wobbling as dizziness overtook her.

"Be careful, my dear, I beg of you." Lord Haversham clutched her arm, steadying her even as he made her heart beat faster. "Shall we go?"

Kate nodded and pulled on her gloves, regretfully. She'd no longer be able to look forward to the touch of his skin on her hand.

Unless he kissed her. Or took her to his bed again.

She shivered and tried to breathe slowly. Clutching his arm, she allowed him to lead her from the room and out to his curricle, trying to put those thoughts out of her mind. Although once they were truly betrothed, well, they'd already anticipated their wedding night. What did it matter what they did now?

Marcus settled her into the curricle, took his place, and started the team. They quickly reached Hyde Park, as usual a bit earlier than the fashionable crowd.

"We have almost worn our own path through the park, we've been here so often these past weeks," she said, grasping her hands together as if seizing a lifeline.

"I believe you are correct, my dear." He chuckled. "So I don't think another time will do any more damage to the grass." He swung the team left, toward the tree that had become their favorite place to drive. Once he'd pulled them to a halt, Marcus jumped out and fastened the reins to a nearby bush.

"Where is your tiger?" Kate hadn't realized the young groom wasn't riding behind them.

"I thought today should be just us two." He took her hand and helped her to the ground then wound her arm through his and led her under the tall oak tree, the upper branches rustling in the gentle breeze.

Goodness, this truly was it. Kate glanced around, but this part of the park was entirely deserted. She turned her gaze on Marcus, who grinned at her, took her hand, then fell to one knee.

"Miss Locke."

Heart racing, all Kate could do was stare straight at him. He was going to do it. He was going to propose. A thousand thoughts shot through her head, but not one could she snag to steady her.

"I think you have noticed my attentions recently have been most decidedly fixed on you." Marcus squeezed her hand. "And if you have not noticed, I do not know where your mind has been."

His quip seemed to have broken the spell. "Oh, I have noticed, my lord. Most particularly when we toured your house."

"Good. So you have been paying attention." His eyes twinkled at her. "And you have given me some hope that you are not inclined to reject me."

"No."

His eyebrows flew upward. "No?"

"I mean, yes." What did she mean? Why did he have to phrase it in such a convoluted manner? That was so like Haversham. "I mean no, I am not inclined to reject your attentions."

He smiled and squeezed her hand. "Then I beg of you, Miss Locke, put me out of my misery and make me the happiest man in the world by consenting to become my wife."

"Oh." Her breath came in a little squeaking gasp. He had proposed. Her nemesis, the Earl of Haversham, had proposed to her . Would the sky fall next?

He gazed back, his grin widening. "You can give me an answer at your earliest convenience, Miss Locke. Or if you prefer, I can guess." He rose and slid his hand up to cup the back of her head, guiding her mouth closer to his. "Shall I see if the cat's got your tongue?" he whispered, his lips hovering just above hers.

"Yes, please." Kate lifted her lips to his, melting into him as he crushed her against his chest. The strong arms she remembered so well enfolded her, and she gave herself up oh-so-willingly to his caresses. If anyone drove by them now, they would be thoroughly scandalized.

He broke the kiss and smiled at her, making her stomach flip. That smile would make a saint beg to be a sinner. "Was that your answer?"

"What was the question?" She was either foxed or addlepated.

"Will you marry me?"

"Oh. Yes." Pinpricks of heat burst out all over her. Had anyone told her at the beginning of the Season she'd answer him so, she'd have sent them to Bedlam. Yet there was no other answer she wanted to give. She wanted to marry him more than anything else in the world, be with him always, feel the touch of his hand, his kiss, his body pressed against hers.

As though the sun had broken through a dense fog, his face glowed, his amiable grin stretching from one side of his face to the other. "Are you quite sure, Miss Locke?" The hope in his wide eyes smote her heart. "I would not wish it to be said I entrapped you in any way."

"If anyone did the entrapping, it was me."

"I will remember that confession, my love. Make no mistake about it."

They stood embracing one another, Kate drinking in the feeling of being cherished by the man she adored.

"You must speak to my brother as soon as possible." She leaned her head against his chest and sighed. "This is scandalously improper without his consent."

"But I've had Ainsley's approval from the beginning." He nuzzled the nape of her neck, sending glorious shivers down her spine.

"You have? I mean, I know he has been in favor of the match ever since the night of Lady Hamilton's ball. But he never said anything to me about you having a formal suit." She stood back. Why hadn't Nathan told her Marcus had asked to court her? He'd specifically denied it at Lady Hamilton's. "When did you speak to him? He said absolutely nothing to me about a formal courtship." Her shiver of delight turned cold.

"Uh, some time ago." Marcus's face had reddened suspiciously.

"When exactly?" Nathan should have come to her immediately with this news. Perhaps he hadn't wanted to for fear she'd say no outright. He'd had her make that list, though. Had he actually been trying to soften her toward Haversham?

"The night of Lady Hamilton's ball." He sighed. "And the day after. We spoke of my suit then."

"Why would you have asked to court me when you'd just been abominably rude to me?" She drew back further. What had happened that night that could have caused him to speak to her brother? Had he been jealous of her attentions to Lord Finley? No, he'd not seen them dancing. He'd gone to the card room with Nathan…

"A wager?" Her brother had said he wanted them to marry. Had he wagered with Lord Haversham for his suit? "Did Nathan bet you couldn't woo me and get me to agree to marry you?" She had to take a deep breath or she would faint.

"No, Kate, it wasn't like that…exactly." His gaze shifted back and forth over her face.

"Do not call me Kate. And do not lie to me." She drew herself up, outrage thrumming through every inch of her.

"There was no wager over you, I swear it." He grabbed his handkerchief and wiped his brow, giving her a quick glance that didn't quite meet her eyes. "I lost almost every hand to your brother that night. I don't know when my luck has ever been that bad. It was enough money that I would've been ruined financially had I paid the debt and ruined socially if I had not." The sadness in his eyes froze her heart. "He offered to cancel the debt if I agreed to marry you."

"What?" A whisper was all she could manage. How could her brother have done such a thing? Especially after she'd specifically told him she'd never, ever marry Lord Haversham. Yet she had just accepted him. Dear Lord. She'd anticipated their wedding night. The world around her seemed to waver into shades of gray. What had she done?

"I told him no, at first." Haversham's voice came to her from a great distance. "I didn't think you'd even dance with me again, much less consent to marry me. I found, however, I had no choice. My finances were in shambles, so I told him I'd court you." He looked her in the face, his brows furrowed, mouth set. "I didn't believe for one second you'd see past your prejudice against me. You've never liked me from the first moment of our acquaintance."

"No, Lord Haversham, I have not." She clutched her Spencer around her, shivering with a coldness that radiated from her heart.

"And yet you just accepted my proposal." He reached toward her, and she drew back so far she almost stumbled against the tree. He grabbed her arm.

"Don't touch me!"

"You accepted me, Miss Locke." He pulled her upright and released her. "I had hoped over the course of these last weeks you would put aside your dislike of me and see me for the man I am, not the hobgoblin a fourteen-year-old created in a fit of pique."

"I do see you for who you are, Lord Haversham." She spat out each word as though they had barbs. "A miserable fraud who would connive with my brother to save his own honor at the expense of mine." How could he have done such a thing? Kate hardly knew which man to hate more.

She composed herself, straightening her shoulders until she stood tall as a lamp pole and twice as hard. "I must rescind my acceptance of your offer, Lord Haversham. I will not, under any circumstances, marry you. Please take me home." Kate stalked toward the curricle, staring straight ahead, willing herself not to cry.

"Kate, you cannot refuse." Haversham followed right behind her. "I compromised you—ruined you to the point you cannot marry anyone else."

"I do not know what you mean, Lord Haversham." She put her foot on the step, shaking off his hand when he tried to assist her. "You have done nothing to me to warrant such a claim." She stared daggers into his astonished face. "And if you say such a thing to my brother, in an ill-advised attempt to force me to marry you, I will tell him you are lying, and he will be obliged to call you out." She narrowed her eyes to slits. "And as you know, my brother is an excellent shot."

Haversham paled, as well he might. No one with a grain of sense would wish to stare down the barrel of Nathan's pistol.

"As you will, Miss Locke." He sighed deeply, climbed up beside her, and started the horses, who sped them out of the park.

Their silence weighed heavy, but not as heavy as her outraged heart.