Page 96 of Rogue of My Heart

“Will the engagement party happen here?” Fergus asked. “Or would you rather have it at Dunegard Castle?”

“Oh, at the castle, of course.” Lord Kilrea’s eyes shone, as though the mere thought of being seen hosting a party at a castle would raise his standing in Ireland and England both.

Fergus sent Henrietta a look as though the two of them knew precisely what the man was thinking. Marie would have joined in, but the reality of having a party planned for her engagement to a man who had yet to actually speak to her directly had chased any hope of seeing humor in the situation right out of her. She peeked desperately at Christian. He felt like her only ally in the dire situation.

“Excuse me, Father,” Christian said, glancing away from Marie. “Could I have a word with Lord Boleran?”

“Yes, of course,” Lord Kilrea said with a slight frown.

Marie frowned as well. As Christian stepped away with Lord Boleran, she felt as though she’d lost her last ally. Only when Christian sent a short look back over his shoulder to her, a hint of mischief in his eyes, did Marie consider that he was up to something. Perhaps his efforts to break away from the group at large had nothing to do with speaking to his fiancée’s brother—dear God, that was what Lord Boleran was to him now—and more to do with getting away from his father. If that were the case, she needed to find a way out as well.

“Excuse me, my lady,” she said, leaning close to Lady Kilrea’s ear. “Could I make use of your retiring room?”

Lady Kilrea blinked at her for a moment, then seemed to understand. “Yes, yes, of course.” She waved to one of the maids—who were standing at the ready around the perimeter of the room. “Laura, please show Lady Marie to the facilities,” she asked one of the maids in a hush.

It was all a lot of fuss to get Marie out of the room, but she didn’t care. As soon as the maid led her down the hall to the water closet, Marie thanked the girl, then pretended to go about her business, shutting herself in the tiny room. A scant few seconds later, she popped her head back out into the hall. If she’d guessed correctly, Christian would slip out of the parlor as well.

She was right. Her heart sang with joy and mischief as Christian stepped into the hall. He saw her head peeking out from the door and broke into a wide grin, picking up his pace. Within seconds, he’d slipped into the water closet with her.

“I’d say we’re in a bit of a tight situation,” Marie whispered as the two of them squeezed into the small space. The water closet was bigger than a bedroom closet, but not by much. On top of that, it was jammed with modern plumbing. The space had obviously been carved into the existing structure of a house that had been designed before the invention of indoor plumbing, but it had been designed poorly.

Not that Marie was in the mood to complain about the necessity of wedging herself closer to Christian at the moment.

“This is more than a tight situation,” Christian said, his expression seeming to have a hard time deciding whether to be jolly or morose. “This is an emergency.”

“I could strangle my brother for pushing me off on your brother this way,” Marie said, moving her arms restlessly, not sure where to put them.

Christian settled the matter for her by grasping her hands and holding them between their bodies. “And I had no idea who Lady Aoife was, let alone that my father thought she’d be a suitable match.”

“Did you learn anything from her brother just now?” Marie asked, hope rising in her. “Why he’s in such a rush to marry off his sister?”

“No,” Christian said with a sigh. “Only that he’s adamant his sister marry as soon as possible. Which is highly suspicious, if you ask me.”

“Definitely suspicious,” Marie echoed. “Why anyone would need to marry in such a rush is beyond me.”

Christian’s eyes suddenly danced with mischief and delight. Marie found herself uncommonly aware of the closeness of the water closet and how necessary it was for them to stand almost flush against each other.

“I’m not opposed to the idea of marriage in general, you know,” Christian said, the warmth in his eyes growing. “It has its uses.”

“It certainly does,” Marie agreed. The water closet was amazingly warm all of a sudden, and she had the uncanny urge to giggle in spite of the muddle they were in. “I wouldn’t mind marrying myself,” she went on. “Provided I was allowed to choose my groom.”

“My feelings precisely.” Christian nodded. “That is to say, marriage isn’t something I had even thought to contemplate at this stage of my life, but if I were in the market for a wife?—”

“And if I felt as though now were the right time in my life—” Marie added.

“Who is to say what exciting and vivacious bride I might choose?”

“I might be persuaded to shackle myself to someone who keeps me on my toes,” Marie agreed.

“If it was an absolute necessity,” Christian said.

“If it were a requirement that the decision be made immediately,” Marie said.

“I might find it within my power to?—”

She lifted to her toes and threw her arms over his shoulders, kissing him with all the daring and desperation she felt. He let out a wild sound of acceptance and relief, kissing her back and wrapping his arms around her the way Marie had wanted him to the day before. It was sheer madness for them to kiss that way, in a water closet located right in the center of his house when both of their families were only rooms away, but Marie didn’t care. His body was scintillating against hers, and the emotions and urges his hungry mouth inspired in her were headier than the finest beer.

“Wait,” Christian gasped, breaking their kiss. “This is thoroughly mad, isn’t it.”