Chapter Twenty-Two

T heodosia entered the carriage her mother had prepared for her with a touch of confusion. She was half surprised her brothers hadn't chased after her yet. But then, she didn't doubt her mother's capabilities. The marchioness clearly had a plan. However, this reminded her of the time she had first set off for Brighton. But back then, she had Nancy to accompany her.

Now she had no one.

The carriage rocked forward and she rested her head back on the seat. She wondered where her mother planned for her to go. Should she stop by the Savage residence?

No.

That would be the first place her brothers and that snake Sandgrove would storm if they discovered her gone and her mother failed to hold them back.

She missed the rogue.

She missed him so much.

Theodosia frowned when shouts came from the outside. Could it be... Her heart froze up. Surely not? Had she been caught this soon? If Seth caught her now, there was no telling what they'd do. And she refused, absolutely, irrevocably refused to marry Sandgrove. She would ruin the entire family name if that was what it took for them to see reason!

Perhaps it's not them. Her brothers weren't the only ones who could shout like madmen.

The carriage slowed to a halt again, and Theodosia's heart sank.

You tried, Mama.

Theodosia braced herself. She didn't want to be dragged back home. She would fight tooth and nail. They'd have to carry her home if they wanted her to return.

The door of the carriage was wrenched open and she leveled a frosty glare at the person who appeared there, then blinked, her face clearing.

" Field ? What are you doing a here?" A delicious sense of familiarity skittered down to her toes.

He let out a shaky breath. "You are always running away from me."

Theodosia blinked at him some more, afraid that he might change into Seth at any moment and this would all turn out to be a dream. "You always chase me."

He nodded. "This time, I have permission to chase you, too."

Her brows knit. "Permission?"

"Yes, by some miracle, I have been selected as a blind matchup for you."

Theodosia didn't know what to make of that . "I beg your pardon? Blind matchup?" Could it be? "My mother..." This was the plan her mother had set up?

He nodded. "Is there space for one more? Unless I am another blind matchup you are keen to escape from."

"What nonsense!" Theodosia grabbed Field by his jacket and pulled him into the carriage, grinning. "Get in here before someone sees you!"

The carriage shot forward again the moment the door shut. Theodosia stared at the man before her. She'd never been able to see him properly the night before, but up close she could see that stubble coated his jaw. He must not have shaven for a few days. His right cheek was a bit discolored.

"One of my brothers did this, I'm sure," Theodosia said quietly, reaching out to gently trail over the bruise. "I'm sure it was Seth. I'm sorry he hit you."

"I deserved it."

"Whether you did or you didn't, it still doesn't excuse his actions."

He shrugged, rubbing his bruised cheek. "I'm not so sensitive that I cannot take a blow from that temperamental beast."

Theodosia bit back a smile. It takes one to recognize one, rogue. "Just what is going on here? You mentioned a blind matchup? Has my mother set this up?"

He nodded. "You mother called on me this morning to arrange a blind matchup." His gaze searched hers. "You're smiling, but I cannot tell if you are happy because I'm your matchup or happy that I'm your matchup."

She arched a quizzical brow. "Is there a difference?"

"A big one."

"I'm happy you are my matchup." Her grin widened. "Also that my mother went so far to set this in motion."

"I was just shocked," he admitted. "I never believed she would choose me as a match for her daughter. After all, I'm just a—"

She leaned over to place a finger over his mouth. "If you are going to say anything about a weed I shall add another bruise to your jaw."

The corner of his lips lifted against her finger. "If I ever went on about it, it was only because you were the one who said it. If anyone else had insulted me, I would not have cared one whit about it. But from you it bothered me like hell."

Her heart pinched. "Well, I've come to learn that weeds aren't all that bad." He arched a brow at her. "You don't believe me? Well, some would argue that weeds capture and trap dewdrops to keep the soil moist."

"Are you romanticizing weeds now?"

"No." Theodosia smiled, leaning back into the cushions. "I'm merely trying to state there are good sides to every bad and a bad side to every good."

"Then I can take it that you have seen some good in me despite all the bad?" He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his leg.

"Well, yes. I'm not all good either. Just look around—how many scandals have I caused now?"

"Sweet little scandals. Hardly even noticeable."

"Only you would say that." They stared at each other, and Theodosia's heart thumped at the emotion that filled the depth of Field's gaze. "Well, are you so mesmerized by me that you're not going to tell me what is going on here? This blind matchup? In a carriage? My mother must have shared her plan with you."

"Yes," he said straightforwardly. "I am mesmerized."

Her heart seized. My Field.

Now she was the one mesmerized. "My mother arranged this, and she can be a force. You are here of your own free will, are you not?"

"How can you bloody ask me that?"

The sour note in his question made her laugh, and a sudden urge to tease him filled her to the brim. "Are you even sober at the moment?"

That earned her a hot look, but a blotch of red appeared on his cheeks. "I've never been more sober in my life." His voice came out raspy. "So tell me, princess, how do these matchups work?"

Princess. Very well, "I ask questions, you answer them."

He nodded slowly. "Can I ask questions?"

"Possibly, depending on the quality of your answers."

He took on a thoughtful expression. "What if you don't like my answers?"

Theodosia grinned at him. "Then you ask no questions and I shoo you away."

"Ruthless."

"Yes, ruthless. I've always loathed every second of each matchup. This is the first one where I find a thrill of anticipation crawling its way up my spine."

"A thrill of anticipation, you say?"

She nodded.

"Then, have you shooed many gentlemen away?"

"A great many. Every single one."

"Except me."

"Well, that still remains to be seen," she quipped playfully. "Usually, we would start with tea, but we don't have that at the moment."

Dark eyes probed her. "Just drink in the sight of me."

"Are you sure? It's pretty haggard."

His eyes narrowed. "Then quench your thirst on this haggard sight, because it belongs to you, and only you."

Lord. Where had this delightful rogue come from? "Well, even though we start with tea, I've never poured a cup for a matchup since the start. The suitors always pour. So, Field Savage, you had best ‘pour' over the sight of me first."

He grinned, and her heart stuttered once more. Field Savage with such a bright grin. Utterly savage . "I'd love to. It's such a beautiful sight. Beyond beautiful."

Theodosia melted. Where was this man a few weeks ago? "Do you wish to marry me, my lord?"

His grin slipped. "I beg your pardon?"

"It's the next step in my matchup ceremonies—my first question."

"You ask this question to all the men you have blind matchups with?" he asked in astonishment. "The concept is already somewhat unnerving, but to ask this outright? It's damn dangerous!"

"And yet, it's quite effective. Also rather informative and quite entertaining to watch the men's reactions." She placed a contemplative finger on her lips. "Every single one has said no."

"Are they damn fools?"

"Fools, yes. Self-tormentors, no."

"Self-tormentors?" He suddenly laughed. "For you, I would gladly endure this self-torment for all eternity."

"Be serious."

"I bloody am." However, his eyes were filled with laughter.

Hah! This man. "Are you saying that you would marry me?"

"In the next heartbeat." His gaze bore into hers. "How would you respond to that?"

"I shall remind you that you would be accepting a wife who is loud, outspoken, and stubborn to the bone, who hates dancing, loves brawling, and has no filter when it comes to insulting the opposite sex."

"A perfect complement to a husband who is blusterous, hot-tempered, stubborn to the bone, who can do without dancing, is not scared of brawling with a woman, and has no filter when it comes to matters he is passionate about."

"I'm not sure," she murmured softly. "It sounds as if we are much too alike."

"Opposites do not always attract." He shifted forward in his seat, drawing closer to her. "I find that the more common the tempers, the more exciting the match. At least, I have confirmed this for myself."

"That exciting, is it?"

"Yes, princess. Without you, I might stay a weed all my life that never captures any damn dewdrop. Only you can give a weed that power. Only you can turn a weed into a desirable vegetation."

"Field . . ."

He shook his head. "I need to say this. I can't promise I'll be the best man, but I can promise that I'll catch as many dewdrops for you as I can, weed or not." He pulled a face. "Bloody hell, that sounds ridiculous." He captured her cheek in his. "My point is this: I love you, Theodosia King."

Her hand clutched at her chest. "You love me."

"I love you, Theo. With all my bloody heart."

She swallowed, heat spreading through her body. "Field Savage, I didn't realize you had such a romantic side to you."

"I don't," he said gruffly. "It's just the truth."

"But wouldn't you know, you hellion, you infuriating Earl of Saville," she launched herself onto his lap, looping her arms around his neck, "I find myself loving you in return."

He laughed, and while it wasn't the first time, she had never seen him laugh like this before—carefree, unreserved. It was pure joy.

Theodosia couldn't look away.

*

Field had always been a man to be overcome with emotions of many sorts. Anger. Annoyance. Envy. Resentment. Longing. Even at times greed. These he was all intimately familiar with. Many of them had clung to him like second skin. But never in his life had he been a man to be overcome by sentiments of love.

Never this .

He didn't quite know what to do this rush of feelings that threatened to choke him. If he opened his mouth to speak now, a croak would probably be the only sound that emerged from his throat. That was how tightly this love was clamped around his heart, his chest, the very bones of his body.

"I still can't believe you are here," she said after a moment. "That you love me. That I love you ."

"You cannot take it back. Ever."

"I won't. Ever."

His heart, damn it. It wouldn't survive it. Survive her. Field suddenly chuckled. "I still cannot believe you got into the wrong carriage."

"That is hardly my fault. I got into the first carriage. Wait, if you were in the other carriage, whose carriage is this ?"

"Selena and Warrick's."

"Selena and Warrick are here, too? How? Why?"

Field circled his arms around her. "First, kiss me." Those beautiful eyes gazed into his and he suddenly recalled the careless remarks on that heiress list. "Wait, Theo."

She pressed her temple against his. "Yes?"

"Your eyes."

She pulled back, narrowing them slightly. "What about them?"

"They are . . . piercing. Beautiful."

She cocked her head. "Not Satan's eyes?"

He deserved that. "No, princess. The first time we met, your gaze unnerved me so much... the challenge them, the unapologetic mettle. But that was my flaw, not yours. I was a complete blackguard. I was an utter fool back then, and with the list as well."

She framed his face in her hands. "I already know that. I forgave you the moment I vented my spleen on your portrait and snipped your waistcoats."

"You forgave me? Just like that?"

She nodded. "Because I knew you were not a complete blackguard. And now you are the man that I want to spend my life with."

Field couldn't hold back. He captured her lips with his. Their first kiss and been all heat and enticement laced with gin. This time, Christ, this time was so damn sweet, he could scarcely keep from pressing her down into the seat and losing all control.

His tongue traced over the seam of her lips, welcoming their parting and sweeping inside to claim all she offered, her fingers playing with the tufts of his hair. His skin broke out in gooseflesh.

So good .

He longed for this touch, her touch, like nothing else in his life.

He had wanted to do this countless times after the night they'd shared at the farm, and now he finally had the woman of his heart, his life, his dreams , in his arms.

The sweetness . . .

It stripped him raw.

No moment could surpass this.

Damn it, he wanted to do more than kiss. He wanted to devour her. Kiss every inch of her skin, and do it sober. He wanted to use all his faculties, all attention directed toward making her come undone in his arms again. He'd almost lost this—lost her—and he wanted to make sure she knew now how much he valued her.

Which reminded him . . .

He pulled away from her lips, the sudden question on his mind demanding an answer. "What about Sandgrove? Your mother said he met with your brother this morning."

"That man... I even asked him to distance himself from the betrothal, but he refused."

Field scoffed, then dragged his lips along her jaw. "Sandgrove proved and reaffirmed that the one thing I believe about a gentleman remains true." He smiled at her.

"Oh? Does it have anything to do with tailoring?"

"A man ought to be judged by his waistcoats."

"You really must have been a peacock on your last life. Speaking of waistcoats, last night..."

"Don't even start with that. I'm utterly ashamed of myself."

She lightly nudged the tip of her nose against his. "Just so we are clear, you are ashamed of the tattered waistcoat, not anything else?"

"It was a fine waistcoat before it was snipped to shreds."

She laughed, poking his chest. "You're still not wearing one now, though."

"I've sent word to my tailor to commission two wardrobes' worth of them. I shall keep extra ones hiding in the event that scissors should be taken to any of them."

She nodded. "That might happen, I agree."

"I shall also send last night's one for repairs."

Her brow furrowed at that. "But it's ruined. Completely."

"I daresay it is ruined." He tightened his arms around her, securing her closer against him. "But have you not shown me that nothing is beyond repair? And besides," Field smirked, "it has sentimental value."

The minx had the nerve to dart her eyes heavenward at that last bit. "If you say so." He pinched her chin and pulled her face back toward his. When her gaze met his again, a perceptible smile was on her lips. "I know, I know. When you find something precious, never let go. So then, let us never let go."

God. He kissed the corner of her lips. "Is that a promise?"

"Yes." Her lips found his to brush across. "It's a promise." Then she pulled away just enough to grab his cheeks between her fingers and pinch. "So are you going to confess where we going, or are you being secretive for a reason?"

"No secret." Field allowed her to squeeze his face without protest. "We are going straight to Gretna Green."

Her hands went slack, and her eyes widened to saucers. "We are eloping ?"

"You can stop the carriage at any time, princess." His hands trailed down her back. "I don't mind going into hiding until your brothers' tempers cool."

"Well, I do. And I do so delight in a countryside adventure."

Field buried his head in her shoulder. "Thank God."

"But wait. Was this part of Mama's plan?"

Field smiled, then nodded his head. "That woman is as devious as they come. I wished I could be there to see how she handles those heathen brothers of yours."

"You do realize, Field, you just called your future mother-in-law devious."

"Don't all men call their mothers-in-law devious? I meant crafty. Definitely crafty."

"Not untrue." She laughed, then pulled him in for a long, long kiss. Field didn't protest, neither did he restrain himself. He reached out bunch up her skirts, his hand trailing up her leg, but stilled, reeling back to look at her. "You are wearing a gown."

"What else would I be wearing? Those godawful Turkish trousers?"

"Don't put it like that. They've grown on me."

" Really? " Amusement spilled into her tone. "Unfortunately, my brothers ripped them to pieces."

His hands ran up her legs. "I'll purchase you all the trousers you want."

"No need," she grasped his wandering hands. "Mama is already on it."

"Like I said. Devious." Field nuzzled against her skin. "I would say, ‘your poor brothers,' but I wouldn't mean it."

"Let's not talk about those heathens. You said Selena and Warrick are in the carriage behind us? Are they eloping too?" Her eyes widened. "A double elopement?" Her eyes widened even more. "A best friend elopement!"

"I hadn't thought about it like that. Can we divert this runway marriage?"

"No!" Palms framed his face again. "Let us just stay the course."

"Very well, but only if we can stay on it forever."

"My heart could wish for nothing else."