Angel in Scarlet (Bound and Determined #4)(81)

She turned her head and looked at his face. “And that is why you brought in Granderson? That certainly seemed as if you were trying to claim me.”

“I have said that I was trying to dissuade you, but I think in truth I was protecting myself. I realize that I have been reluctant to marry, for all that I professed to be looking for the right bride. I have had so little faith that the right bride existed that I could not believe it when you showed yourself to me, either literally or figuratively.”

Was she willing to believe that? She searched his eyes for a clue. “And Vanessa—is that why you pursued her when you were courting me?”

“I knew we would come back to that. It would be easy to say yes, but no, I think that was just me being the man I had always been. It never occurred to me not to continue my past relationships as I pursued a new one. It was simply how life had always been. And it never occurred to me that you, or any woman of quality, would ever know.”

She didn’t know how to respond. She wanted to hold on to her anger. Whether he had considered it wrong or not, it surely had been. She waited for the bitterness to rise in her belly, but it did not.

She placed a hand on her stomach, considering. “And you would not go to her, or another of her type, now?”

“Never.” He said it with absolute conviction.

No, she was not angry anymore, but that did not mean she had to make this easy. She sat, raising her arms, stretching them high over her head, knowing exactly what effect that would have as he focused on her swollen breasts. His eyes followed, as she had expected; his Adam’s apple bobbed.

Her gazed dropped to his lap. It was impossible to mistake that hard outline. It seemed like forever since she had seen him without it. She was tempted to reach out and stroke, to caress, to play—to see how far he would let her take things.

But other things must be decided first. With some reluctance, she settled back on the pillows. “They are probably looking for me now. Will they come here?”

“Not soon. They will search all of Lady Perse’s estate first; there are probably several guests out riding since just after dawn, and they will need to be sure that you are not among them. Then they will check all the walking trails. And checking the house alone will take hours. In fact, that is probably a way you can still escape this. You could slip into the house and pretend to have fallen asleep in one of the empty rooms while looking at the paintings. I think the second floor of the south wing is still vacant. Even if the rooms have been searched, it would still be possible that you were sleeping in a chair in some corner—and that is assuming that they are searching. Will your mother or your maid truly be raising such a fuss?”

Angela considered. “Probably not yet, perhaps not for hours—for all she will have noticed my absence quickly. My mother would not want to risk a scandal if there was none to be had, but neither will she want to sit and wait and worry. At some point she will begin to ask questions. I cannot imagine that she will let me miss luncheon.”

“You have a few hours, then.”

“Are you sure?”

He leaned to the side and pulled a pocket watch off the table, holding it out to her. It was barely past eight.

Her mother was probably not even awake yet. Her maid was another story—but her maid would wait until later to report to her mother. “So what do we do?”

Colton reached out and took her hand. “I am trying to be sure I understand. Did you just accept my proposal a few minutes ago—or were you still saying you would rather be ruined?”

“I don’t suppose I actually did say.”

“Well?”

She blew out softly. “I think I am saying that I have made my mind up that I cannot refuse you.”

“So that is a yes?”

“I think it is an ‘I would like you to ask again.’?”

He looked confused.

“I would like a memory of saying yes that does not involve Thorton and worry.”

He pressed his hips against her. “Does that mean we cannot celebrate a wedding morning a little early?”

She turned toward him. “I suppose that we might. It would be good to know what I am getting. And perhaps we can meet at the folly on the way to the house—strictly by chance, of course. Then you can ask me again, before we head to the house. I would like to wait until this is all behind us, but I am sensible enough to realize how much simpler life will be if we walk back together to share our happy news.”

“You do not sound happy.”

“It is not the way I dreamed it.”

He stared up at the beams that crossed the ceiling. “I don’t know what to wish. Part of me wishes to go back and do it the way you dreamed, but”—he turned to look at her, at her swollen breasts—“I am not sure that I would have discovered so much about you if we had proceeded in that fashion.”

“No, I daresay you might not have.” It was all too easy to imagine a world in which she had stayed quiet and obedient, as she had intended, working to be the wife she thought he wanted instead of the one he just might need.

He lifted a hand and traced the edge of her lowered bodice. “So what else do you think we should learn about each other?”

She glanced down again at his lap and swallowed. “It might be good to know if we actually fit together. I know that you have assured me that we will, but the whole thing does seem quite impossible to me. I am not a large woman.”