Page 25 of Forever Her Bachelor

Heartford and St. Clara followed her. “You need to focus on marrying Miss Price and not defiling her in my study.”

Descending the stairs, St. Clara replied, “Since in your experience, defiling resulted in marriage, I believe I am on the correct path.”

“Only if your outcome is as happy as mine,” Heartford’s quick reply hit St. Clara directly in the chest as they finally reached the bottom of the stairs.

Was that what St. Clara wanted for him and Pippa? He wasn’t sure it was even a likely outcome for them. A part of him would always cherish the friendship they shared when they were younger, but as adults, they were practically strangers.

Strangers with an incredible attraction to each other, one that he couldn’t get enough of. His heart soared at the thought of their former friendship and their current attraction merging into something spectacular. If only he could convince her to marry him, prove to her how extraordinary they could be together.

The issue was that he only had a matter of days before the banns were read, and mere weeks before he had to marry or risk being destitute forever.

It was no pressure at all.

CHAPTER 8

Dear Chauncey,

I promise I’ll always be your Kitten. If only you could stay my marquess and never become a duke.

Your Friend,

Kitten (The Chemist)

Empty. St. Clara felt utterly and completely empty with every step he took away from Pippa. She was the answer to his problems, and he was the answer to hers. He knew it now more firmly than ever before. He couldn’t allow her to marry Summerset.

As he entered the scarcely decorated library behind Heartford, St. Clara’s gaze roamed the room, finding the other men sipping their brandy and talking amicably. He walked over to the sideboard, needing something to clear his mind of her.

His body ached with the memory of having Pippa’s curves pressed up against him, her sweet lips captured between hisown. He wanted to taste her again, to hear those breathy whimpers that were an orchestra to his ears.

Pouring a heavy glass of brandy, St. Clara closed his eyes, blocking out the voices of the other men in the room. His mind traveled back to a lonely boy who had no one until he’d met a lonely girl. She’d saved him; now, it was his turn to save her.

Heartford walked over to St. Clara and stood next to him. “Pour me a glass, will you?”

“Are you unable to pour your own drink?” St. Clara asked, his eyes shifting over to the other man.

He was becoming more agitated by Heartford as the night progressed, but he couldn’t harm the man.

“I’m quite capable, but ordering you around fills me with satisfaction.” Heartford laughed as St. Clara placed the decanter and empty glass in front of him.

“Pour your own damn drink.” St. Clara took a sip of his brandy, wishing the night would finally end.

“St. Clara, I was afraid you’d run off before I had a word,” Summerset called out from beside Wayford.

Heartford slapped St. Clara on his back, forcing him to stumble slightly. Once St. Clara had his balance and drink in hand, he eyed the infuriating man, once again jolted by how much Heartford favored their sister, Amelia.

“You could force her to marry, by ruining her—” Heartford began, his eyes roaming over to Summerset who was leaving Wayford’s side to walk over to St. Clara.

“Absolutely not,” St. Clara spit out the refusal. The thought had crossed his mind briefly, but he knew Pippa. Knew how much she valued her independence. She was being forced to marry one man; he would not take her choice away from her as well. “Stay out of my affairs,” he replied stiffly.

“Get them in order.” Heartford walked away before Summerset could reach them.

“I wanted to speak to you about what happened at dinner.” Summerset waved to the far side of the room where they would not be overhead by the others.

St. Clara placed his still-full glass down on the sideboard before he walked to the corner of the room with Summerset. He was curious to know what Summerset wanted to discuss as nothing had occurred at dinner that was untoward.

“What happened at dinner?” he asked once they were out of hearing range.

“Your display with Miss Price was unacceptable.” He folded his long, thin arms over his chest, peering up at St. Clara. “She is engaged to me.”