The Wedding Game(53)

In the darkness, she heard the hall door open and close again. She did not know whether to pray it was him, or pray it wasn’t. She held her breath until his silhouette hovered over the bed.

‘What are you doing here?’ she whispered, even though they both knew.

‘I came to apologise,’ he said.

‘Then you may do it in the morning,’ she said primly, pulling the covers up to her neck. ‘When you do not reek of spirits.’

‘In the morning, I will not have the nerve to say what needs to be said.’

‘Your cowardice is not my concern,’ she said.

‘So says the woman who used to hide behind her fan each time I spoke to her,’ he said and sat down on the edge of her bed.

‘What good would a few ivory sticks do me, if my closed bedroom door did not stop you?’

‘It was not locked,’ he said.

To this, she had no glib riposte. She had not locked it because, in her heart, she had hoped he would come to her, just as he had. ‘Then state your business and leave,’ she said.

‘First, I must tell you that, on the day your father sent for me—’

‘And what day was that, precisely?’ she said, in no mood to hear about men and their plans.

‘The day after Vauxhall,’ he said, with a trace of impatience. ‘I—’

‘He sent for you?’ She sat up in bed, trying to see his face in the dim light.

‘He invited me to your house,’ Ben said. ‘I assumed he had heard what we had been up to, the night before. I was prepared to offer. But—’

‘Offer? For me?’ All this time, she’d assumed he had come to carry out his original plan without a thought to the kiss they’d shared.

‘If you insist on interrupting, I will never be able to finish,’ he reminded her.

‘Very well, then.’ She gestured to cede him the conversation, then bit her lip to keep from interrupting again.

‘I came to your father, ready to make amends. And when he began talking of a betrothal, I assumed...’ Now he was the one to pause. ‘We were talking at cross-purposes. He kept insisting that you had no interest in marriage, especially not one he might sanction. And before I knew it, I was engaged to Belle.’

No matter what his original plans had been, he had not been the instigator of the sudden and bloodless engagement. Why had she not recognised her father’s hand in it, from the first?

‘And now you must think me an idiot,’ he said with a sigh. ‘But you must believe me when I say, it was you. It has always been you. I did not want it to be. But it has been you from the first moment I looked into your eyes at Almack’s.’

And even though she knew she should send him away, she held out her arms and he came into them, burying his face against the side of her neck to kiss her pulse. ‘I had plans,’ he said, with a shaky laugh. ‘But they are a handful of dust, compared to how I feel, when you are in my arms.’

‘How clever of you to notice now that it is too late.’ She wanted to be as sharp and cutting as she had been in their first meetings. But what was the point? There was no fight left. She had lost. She ran her fingers through his dark hair, urging him on, even as she knew she should push him away.

‘It is not too late,’ he argued. ‘Tonight, as we danced, I realised that I cannot go through with a loveless marriage to your sister. It is not fair to her, any more than it is to us.’

To us.

Only two words, and yet they were even more seductive than his kisses. She must ignore them.

‘And what will become of her, if you cry off? The scandal will be on her head more than yours.’

‘She will not be hurt,’ he whispered as his fingers twined in her hair. ‘I promised your father that and I promise you the same.’

‘How will you accomplish it? And even if you can, what am I to do about Belle? Someone must care for her, no matter what happens. She is my baby sister and she needs my help.’ Should they decide to marry, if that was what he intended for her, taking Belle into their house would be just as awkward as if Amy had tried to live with them. Even if he cried off, there was no way that they could all be free to start again.

Finally, after so many years of being strong, she broke. She had not cried in ages. But suddenly tears were spilling down her cheeks faster than she could wipe them away. She took a breath to gain control of herself and it emerged in a sob.

He needed to go. If he would just leave her alone, perhaps she could still pretend that there was nothing between them. And tomorrow, when the brandy wore off, he would rethink his words and the wedding would go on as planned, with her standing at her sister’s side as witness.

But he must not do what he was doing now.

He had climbed into her bed and was holding her racked body to his, kissing her hair and running his hands over her shoulders, trying to soothe the sobs that were coming faster and faster as she finally allowed herself to cry. ‘Let it out, my love. It’s all right.’ He pressed his lips into her jawline and she felt her muscles working against them as she tried to swallow the tears.

‘It’s not all right.’ And she was not his love. She could not be without hurting Belle. She shook her head to dislodge his kiss. ‘It has never been all right. Father refused to believe there was anything wrong. I tried to make it seem so, for his sake. For both their sakes. But it has been so difficult. And now?’ She gave a helpless flap of her hand. ‘This.’