Julia London - Regency Vows - A Gentleman 'Til Midnight / The Trouble with Honour / An Improper Arrangement / A Wedding By Dawn / The Devil Takes a Bride / A Promise by Daylight

“Surely that time has come again,” Lord Deal said. She held out a hand that threatened to tremble, and he kissed it. “A pleasure, as always,” he told her kindly. “You’ve been outside. The weather’s a bit chill, is it not? Oh, but the sea is lovely on a day like this.”

“Yes, lovely.” His hand was warm and firm.

“And how is dear Anne faring?”

“Very well, except that I haven’t a moment’s peace with her asking when we might ride in your phaeton again.”

“She has but to say the word,” he declared, laughing.

“I will caution you now to set limits, or you’ll be spending more time in the phaeton than you ever dreamed possible.” She tried to smile, but fear made it too hard.

Lord Deal must have seen it, because his laughter faded. “I’m very sorry things weren’t resolved in precisely the way we’d hoped,” he said soberly. “But all will be well as soon as you marry—the committee will have no reason to rule against you then—and I feel certain it won’t be as bad as you think.” He smiled and patted her hand.

“Of course,” she said, and tried to return his smile. “Now please, do sit down and let’s discuss the details.”

He let go of her hand. “Of course, of course.” They settled into two oak armchairs by the fire. “Now, I’m not sure there are any details to discuss yet, of course, but I do have some thoughts. McGowan, for one. A bit older than you, but not by too much, and he’s an earl. A solid fellow—never been married. And there’s Arran, of course. Perhaps a bit flowery for a woman like you, but he’d do. And there’s Weogh—”

“Lord Deal.” There was no sense allowing the conversation to move any further in this direction. The time was ripe. “When we agreed to come to Scotland and discuss the details,” she said carefully, “I assumed—” A lick of panic flared. It would be so easy to fail. “I had no idea you intended to introduce me to someone else.”

A moment of genuine confusion knitted his brows.

She pressed on. “I assumed you and I would work out some kind of arrangement.”

“You and I!” Now there was genuine surprise. He managed a kind of half laugh edged with horror. “Good God, Katherine, you’re Cullen’s little girl. Bad enough to be patching you into a hasty marriage to a stranger, but me— Ach.” He rubbed his chin. “I’m afraid that possibility never crossed my mind.”

“Well perhaps it could cross your mind now,” she said flatly. “It makes good sense, given your relationship with my father and the proximity of the Deal and Dunscore estates.”

“Katherine—”

“I do not want to marry a stranger.”

“Of course not. But under the circumstances...” He cleared his throat. “You’d like McGowan. I’m sure of it.”

If there was one thing she could be sure of, it was that she would not like McGowan. Or Arran, or Weogh, or any other bloody pillock Lord Deal got it in mind to marry her off to. The fear that he might refuse to marry her made it difficult to smile. “My apologies, Lord Deal. I never meant to shock you. I had no idea we were not of the same mind on this subject.” It was only a small lie.

“No apology necessary, my dear.” He tried another laugh. “Such flattery, so early in the morning.”

“Let me assure you, I would do everything in my power to make you a suitable wife. I would be on my very best behavior. There would be no more scenes like the one at the ball.” His hand was warm and dry, with loose skin that wrinkled a little in her grasp. A knot in her stomach screamed for attention, but she ignored it.

“What a pity that would be, my dear.” He laughed again, perhaps a bit edgily. “I daresay the duke will think twice before he gets a mind to press his attentions where he’s not wanted. You may well have done womankind a favor.”

“I can’t say I regret it,” she admitted. “But I also understand the importance of propriety. I wouldn’t want you to think I can’t behave myself.”

He pulled his hand away. “Ach, no—no, I would never think that. But, Katie, you can hardly expect me to be inclined toward matrimony with a girl who once served me mud biscuits and seawater tea.”

“I promise I shan’t serve them again.” She laughed lightly, the way Phil might have, but his kindly brown eyes didn’t quite crinkle.

“My dear, when I look upon you I see a girl Anne’s age.”

Which was one of the reasons why he would make the perfect husband.

She leaned forward and reached for his hand again—slowly, deliberately—knowing full well her low-cut gown would give him a glimpse of more than it should. “I doubt that, my lord.” She was rewarded when his eyes flicked downward. No, he was not entirely immune.

His lips thinned.

“You can’t really intend to see me forcibly married to one of those men—a complete stranger.”

“They weren’t strangers to your father.”

“But they are to me.” Fear ate through her seductive pretense. “I can’t bear it. I can’t.”

“You must bear it,” he said sternly. “You can’t allow Holliswell to take Dunscore. For Cullen’s sake, I can’t allow it. But God help me—” He stood suddenly, and so did she. He was thinking now. Considering. There was hesitation in his brow.

She took a chance and brazenly lay her palms against his chest. If appealing to his male nature would change his mind, she would fire all guns. “Would it be so terrible to have me as your wife?” she asked, in a voice Phil would have been proud of.

He looked down at her as though this was the Garden of Eden and she was offering him a bite of apple. “Cullen would call me out, and rightfully so.”

“My father isn’t here,” she reminded him quietly. “And I’m a woman long since grown.” She smoothed the front of his waistcoat the way a wife might do. “My days of mud biscuits are far behind me.”

“Not so far.”

“Far enough.”

He circled her wrists with hands that were stronger than they looked. “I can’t believe I’m even considering this,” he said brusquely. He wanted to touch her. She could see it in his eyes, and she fought the urge to back away as her pulse sped and a nerve ticked wildly in her throat.

She’d already decided on this. And she would see it through. Their marriage bed would be no different from the day she’d finally been sent to Mejdan’s bed. Lord Deal was kind, and he would be gentle. He was kindly to Anne, and, most important, wouldn’t try to shackle Katherine down.

“Little about your life would need to change,” she told him. “I would ask nothing of you. You would be forced into nothing you didn’t wish to do.”

He laughed a little. “Except one thing. I don’t even know if I could— Good God.” He shook his head. “I really don’t think I could do what you’re asking.”

“Marriages of convenience are hardly uncommon.”

“Is there nobody who would meet your approval?” he demanded, looking her hard in the eyes, giving her a glimpse of the man he’d been thirty years ago. His hands tightened on her wrists. “You must have met dozens of eligible men while you were in London. Am I to believe nobody caught your eye? Are the gentlemen in London so blind that nobody so much as hinted at an offer? Ah, I can see there is someone. Who is he?”

“Nobody acceptable.” But the image of James exploded to life—his face, drunk with passion inside her carriage, while his hands laid claim to her body. Katherine, marry me. “You know as well as I what kind of interest I garnered in London. Lord Deal, I am quite serious. You are my only hope.”

“Tell me about this unacceptable gentleman in London. What was the objection? No doubt you outrank him significantly.”