A Breach of Promise (The Rules of Engagement #1)(25)

His mouth turned up dryly. “It wasn’t by preference, I assure you. Have you a towel or handkerchief in this chamber?” he asked.

Lydia’s gaze dropped to the thick liquid that covered his hand. She retrieved a basin, pitcher and towel from the dressing table. He reached for it.

“Allow me,” she said, dipping the cloth in the water and slowly wiping away the slick residue. “It looks nothing like I thought.”

Marcus raised a brow.

“A man’s seed. A rather messy business really,” she observed with surprising pragmatism. “Nothing like its namesake.”

Marcus took the cloth from her with a laugh. “No. I daresay it’s an allegorical description.” He finished wiping himself and seized her wrist, bringing it to his lips and planting a tender lingering kiss on the inside. “You continue to amaze me, Lydia. Truth be told, you take my breath away.”

She pulled her hand from his to slide it along his bristled cheek. “I assure you the feeling is mutual.”

He tented both brows. “Then in the carriage…why did you…”

Her lip quivered. “I-I was afraid to trust you, don’t you see?”

He frowned. “You didn’t give me a chance.”

“I was wrong not to after what you have shown me, shared with me. I have known your patience and your generosity. You have revealed so much more than what I expected and what you pretend to be.”

“So you like me in spite of yourself?”

“Much to my chagrin,” she confessed.

“Lydia, is not liking the basis of friendship?”

“Indeed, it is.”

“And what of respect? Do I command even a modicum of your respect?”

She searched his impassive face. “Only a week ago, I wanted to believe you nothing more substantial than some conceited, Continental fribble.”

“Me, a fribble?” He made a stabbing gesture to his heart but his mocking smile abruptly dispelled, replaced by a look of utter gravity. “And now? What do you think of me now, Lydia?”

“After having worked by your side, I no longer regard you in that light. I can appreciate your many talents and see how important it is for you to make your own mark in the world. Yes, I respect you.”

Marcus’ lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile. “Capital. What now was your third concern? Ah, yes. Hope of genuine affection.” He kissed her long, lush and deep and released her with a devilish gleam. “I do believe we have that requisite covered as well. Then it seems we have a foundation of friendship, mutual respect and affection to build upon.” He ticked the items off on his fingers. “But there was more, wasn’t there? The last issue was trust, was it not?” His smile died. “You expressed fear that I would stray from the marital bed.”

“We were betrothed,” she said. “Yet you have been with other women.”

“I’m sorry, Lydia. I can’t deny that, but can we not forget the past? Our engagement was too soon. We were neither of us ready, but I won’t hurt you again. Please believe that while I greatly enjoy bed sport, I am not a promiscuous man. I have kept few mistresses and never more than one at a time, which I hope begins to speak to my capacity for fidelity. I believe I could be well content with just one woman—if she were the right woman.”

Apprehension filled her eyes. “Do you really think that is me?”

“Aye.” He nodded.

“Then you still want me, Marcus?”

“As much as my next breath. And I’d wager my life that I will continue to do so until the last breath leaves my body.” Words that stole her breath away.

“Do you think you can you trust me now, Lydia? Have I begun to restore your faith in my integrity?” His blue gaze riveted to hers. “Please consider your answer carefully.”

She gave a convulsive swallow, knowing what she needed to say, what he needed to hear. “Yes, Marcus. I believe in you. I trust you.”

His eyes lit up. His lips curved slowly into a roguish smile. “Then it appears only one barrier yet remains between us, my love.”

She gave him a puzzled frown. “And what is that?”

“Your maidenhead,” he chuckled. “A matter I will delight in attending to anon.”

Heat flooded her cheeks. “What are you saying, Marcus?”

He answered by dropping to one knee and placing her hand on his chest, over his heart and covering it with his own. “I ask again, Lydia. Would you do me the inestimable honor of becoming my partner, my lover, my wife?”

Her heart contracted with mixed apprehension, hope and love. She answered on a gush of breath. “Yes, Marcus. Yes, I will marry you.”

“A very wise choice.” He grinned and kissed her palm before he pulled her onto his knee to kiss her long and full on the mouth. Upon releasing her, he retrieved their cast-off clothing and handed her her shift and stays. He advanced to the window and threw open the shutters to shout instructions to the postillion in the courtyard.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Redirecting the vehicle to Mayfair, of course.”

Her jaw dropped. “To Mayfair?”

“Aye. At St. George’s Chapel in Mayfair there is a certain Dr. Keith who, for the paltry sum of one guinea, would be quite willing to perform our nuptials.”