Weddings of the Century: A Pair of Wedding Novellas(12)

He stared at her, staggered. "That's utter rubbish. There was never any mention of money. If Sir William had tried to buy me off, I would have laughed in his face."

Her hands locked together in her lap, white-knuckled. "I tell you, I saw the paper! Your signature was unmistakable. "

Dominick tried to remember back to what he had signed. When he did, he swore. "Damnation, your father must have added something! He wrote a sentence in the middle of a sheet of foolscap, saying that I promised never to see Miss Roxanne Mayfield again. I scribbled my name below. He could easily have added more."

Roxanne's face went white, leaving a pale, ghostly dusting of freckles on her high cheekbones. "No," she whispered. "No!" She buried her face in her hands.

His heart ached for her. He wanted to take her in his arms, but guessed that she would not welcome his sympathy.

At length she raised her head and said huskily, "It's your word against his. I don't know what to believe. Perhaps it no longer matters what the truth is."

"The truth always matters!" he said sharply.

She shook her head. "Perhaps my father did alter the paper you signed. Probably he believed that he was saving me from a disastrous marriage, and very likely he was right. We thought we were in love with each other, but we were children. What we felt was not love but the hot blood of youth. We both would have regretted our rashness."

"No!" Realizing that he had shouted, Dominick moderated his tone. "Yes, we were young, but the love was real. No doubt we would have had ups and downs as all wedded couples do, but I would never have regretted our marriage, and I would have done my damnedest to insure that you didn't."

She gave him a twisted smile. "You really must be a romantic. But can you honestly deny that you've enjoyed your decade of adventuring? You must have done things, gone places, that would have been impossible with a wife and family."

He sighed. "You're right that I traveled wide and far, and there was much I enjoyed. But I went because I needed to occupy myself to numb the pain of losing you."

Her brows arched delicately. "Are you going to claim that you spent ten years without touching another woman?"

He hesitated, knowing that he must be ruthlessly honest if he was to win her belief. "There were women sometimes. I am not a saint, and the years were long. But I never loved another woman, and there was never a day when I didn't think of you."

"You weren't thinking of me, but an idealized vision of me," she said softly. "Give it up, Dominick. Reality can never match a dream."

She looked so somber, so unlike the Roxanne of his memory, that he almost surrendered. Perhaps she was right and he had been cherishing an illusion.

Then he remembered how she had been earlier, with her hair tumbled and her eyes blazing. She had been alive then as he guessed that she had not been for ten years. That passionate wench was his Roxanne, and by God, he wasn't going to lose her go for a second time!

He stood, looming over her. "If we give up without trying, Sir William has won, and I will not permit that."

She grimaced. "This isn't a contest between you and my father. Perhaps you're right, perhaps we would have made a success of marriage in spite of our youth. We will never know, for that time has past. I am not that girl, and you are not that young man." She got to her feet. "It's time for me to go. "

His eyes narrowed. "The only place you're going is Gretna Green."

She stared at him. "Don't be silly, Lord Chandler. You don't want to marry me, and I don't want to marry you. Don't try to hold on to the past from sheer stubbornness. "

"Don't tell me what I want and feel!" He caught her gaze with his. "We are going to marry, and we can sort out the wisdom of it afterward."

After a moment of appalled silence, she began to laugh. "Dominick, Dominick, you're absurd! Marriage is for life. It isn't like going into a shop, then leaving if you decide that the stock is not to your taste."

"This stock is very much to my taste." His slow gaze went over her from head to toes. She felt naked, embarrassed, and . . . aroused.

Suddenly alarmed, she said, "This particular lot of merchandise is not for sale. Take care, Dominick. Remember that this is England and try to avoid felonious crimes in the future."

She moved toward the door. He stepped around her, reaching the door first, then turned and leaned against the dark oak planks, his arms folded across his chest. "You're not going anywhere but Gretna Green." He frowned as he considered. "Though there is really no reason to go so far. You're no longer underage, so we can simply drive to London and get married by special license there. George can come and stand witness."

"This ceases to be amusing," she said in a dangerous voice. "Let me go, Dominick! I am not going to marry you."

"Why not?"

"Because…because the very idea is nonsensical!" she exclaimed. "We have nothing in common."

"It's true that men and women have little in common, but they keep getting married anyway." He smiled wickedly. "The few mutual interests they do have are usually enough."

She wasn't sure whether to laugh or blush. The sensation was familiar, for Dominick had always had that effect on her. For an instant she wondered what it would be like to be his wife. She felt an ache deep inside. To go to bed with passion, and to wake up with laughter ...