CHAPTER 7

ANDREW TRIED TO CONTAIN his excitement as he finished tying his necktie. Tonight, he would announce his engagement to the most beautiful, most incredible woman he had ever met. His heart sped a little at the notion, propelled not by fear, but by anticipation.

He wished he didn't have to wait for the bans to be read and the contracts to be signed. Had someone had told him a month ago that he would fall in love and get engaged, he would have laughed that person out of London. Because he could never have imagined a woman like his Artemis. Yet here he was, besotted and looking forward to his marriage.

There was a knock on his bedchamber door and when he called permission to enter, the butler walked in, a silver tray in his hand.

"A telegram for you, my lord."

"Thank you, Baxter," he said as he reached for the paper and opened it.

Unsurprisingly, it was from his brother, William Radcliffe, the Marquess of Ashford, Liam to his family. But the content of the message had Andrew frowning in outrage and indignation.

Learned about the betrothal. Will be home soon. Do nothing foolish. I'll undo the mess.

Of all the high-handed, condescending, insulting things his brother could have said...

Did Liam think he was still a lad? He had just turned thirty, for goodness' sake! He didn't need his big brother "undoing" anything. And he certainly had not created any mess. He had fallen in love, and tonight, during a ball organized by his grandmother, he was going to announce his betrothal to society.

What on earth had possessed Liam to think he had to rush all the way from fucking Tuscany to save him?

Andrew tried to calm his racing thoughts enough to formulate a response. The most important thing was to keep his brother out of his affairs. Had Liam already departed for London? Hard to say. This telegram would have taken several hours to reach him. And any he sent in return would probably reach his brother the following morning at the earliest. But he had to try.

"Baxter, send a footman at once to the Telegraph office with the following message: All is well. Don't need rescue."

He only hoped the message would reach his brother before he came charging back to London to wreck his engagement.

HIS brOTHER'S ILL TIMED telegram had the unfortunate effect of undermining his happiness on the day of his engagement. He looked down at his betrothed dancing in his arms. Artemis was a vision in a deep rose gown that accentuated her delicious curves and brought out the auburn highlights in her hair. He couldn't believe his luck that he had found the one woman in all of London... nay, England, the world, who perfectly combined luscious beauty that made his heart race, and keen intellect that kept his sharp mind engaged.

The night should have been perfect. A night to celebrate and bask in their love. Instead, he was watching the doors, as if Liam was going to barge in at any moment and cry foul. Nonsense, he knew. There was no way Liam could reach London this fast. A telegram traveled a lot faster than a person. Even if his brother had started his journey today, it would be several days before he reached London.

And yet the uneasiness didn't leave him. If not tonight, it was just a matter of time before his brother appeared...

"Are you alright? You seem tense. If you are having second thoughts about our engagement, we can postpone—"

"No." The denial tore out of him before she could even complete the sentence. "I'm not having second thoughts, and if you were about to propose that we postpone the engagement, don't even dream about it."

"I was only asking because you seem so serious and distant. You keep glancing at the doors, as if you wished to escape. I don't want you to feel trapped in our marriage."

This time, he kissed her to make her stop talking. Quite inappropriate in the middle of a ballroom, but he didn't give a fig. He was going to marry this woman and he couldn't bear for her to say they should postpone their wedding. If anything...

An idea popped into his head fully formed. Insane on first inspection. And yet, the more he contemplated it, the more appeal it held. After considering it for the rest of the dance, he made a decision.

Taking her by the hand as the music came to a close, he towed her off the dance floor and into a secluded corner, behind a potted palm.

There, somewhat protected from the prying eyes of the guests, he took her face in his hands and kissed her fast and hard. He tasted her surprise mingled with delight.

"The reason I've been distracted is that I received a telegram from my brother today," he said without preamble.

Her eyes widened in shock. "The Murderous Marquess?"

Drew winced, his hands dropping from her face. His brother could be highhanded and overbearing, but Liam did not deserve the cruel sobriquet.

"My brother is no murderer. If anything, he was also a victim of..." he broke off before he revealed details Liam no doubt wished to remain private.

Her face crumpled in consternation. "I am sorry. I didn't mean to imply..." she began, making him feel like a dragon for being so curt.

"No, I'm sorry, my sweet. I should not have snapped at you. It's just that nickname..."

Her hand raised and cupped his jaw, turning his face to hers. "That nickname is awful, and crass and insensitive. I should not have repeated such a thing."

She said with such sincerity that it disarmed him. It had been five years since the death of his brother's wife. Given the well known contentious nature of their marriage, all sorts of unsavory rumors had exploded at the suspicious death of the late marchioness. The most vicious one being that his brother had murdered his wife. The Ton, always more interested in being clever than kind, had come up with the nickname The Murderous Marquess.

Liam had left England and not returned in five long years. During that time, Drew had punched the faces of more than one fellow who dared to call his brother that. But this was Artemis. Her apology was enough to diffuse his anger.

"Thank you for saying that. My brother is truly not a bad sort, you know. When our parents died, I was only six years old. Liam was no more than a lad of eighteen. A lad who had also lost his parents and inherited a mountain of responsibility, not to mention the upbringing of a hellion of a younger brother. But he shouldered the tasks without complaint. He put up with my shenanigans with infinite patience and always made me feel loved. I challenged him constantly growing up, but I knew I could always count on him to have my back. I even suspect he married so young in a misguided effort to provide me with a motherly figure. Unfortunately, the late marchioness was anything but motherly."

"I understand. Even though I have my parents, my older sister has always been the person closest to me."

Drew nodded. "I love my brother. Liam may be meddlesome and overbearing at times, but he cares deeply for his family. And is loyal to a fault."

"I look forward to meeting him," she said with a smile.

"As for that... you may meet him sooner than expected. And under less than ideal circumstances. That is the reason for my dark mood."

"What happened?"

"I received a telegram from him. I'm afraid the news of our courting and impending betrothal has reached him in Italy, leading him to assume that I was tricked into marriage."

She frowned. "Why would he assume such a thing?"

"It's a long story. One that has more to do with his own experience rather than mine. But he harbors negative feelings about matrimony and not without reason. I don't know what sort of rumors he might have heard. He is returning to England in order to ‘fix the mess,' as he described it."

"Oh!" her look of consternation was more than he could bear. He gave her another kiss. Lingering a bit longer for reassurance.

"He can't stop us from getting married, my love. But I would rather avoid any unpleasantness with him."

"Of course. Surely when he sees how in love we are, he'll change his mind."

Drew's smile was lopsided. "I'm afraid it won't be as simple as that. I propose another solution."

Her eyes widened expectantly. Looking at him with love and trust.

"I think it's better to present him with a fait accompli. That way, he'll have no choice but to accept our marriage. What I'm trying to say is; let's elope."