7
Drew sat astride his horse, waiting by the gates of Hyde Park. Miss Marlow was thirty minutes late. She was making a fool of him.
Impatience bit hard. His hands on the pommel of his saddle, he shifted his weight, and as he did so, he thought of her in his arms last night. Desire clasped low in his belly, a feeling that was much more than lust. She had melted him. Entirely. He had been ice and now he was water. He’d never experienced an encounter with a woman which was so… beautiful… so… real.
His heart had thundered as hard as hers at the end, and he’d wanted to yell out with jubilation. She would have thought him mad, and, of course, it would have meant they may have been caught.
His friends would think him insane if they knew how he felt.
He’d smiled for the rest of the night, like a damned green youth who’d just discovered the sport, and he’d still been smiling this morning.
She had been all that he’d hoped of an innocent woman.
He, Drew Framlington, had been the first to show the beautiful Miss Marlow what true pleasure could be.
Yet she had not come this morning. He was not smiling any more. Waiting on a woman was not his forte. He’d rather walk away than wait. But he craved her too deeply now, he could never choose another woman. Yet, if he did not marry soon, the duns would have him in jail for his debts.
Devil take it. Where was she? She’d shattered in his arms last night, he thought she would be desperate to see him…
He had not thought she would allow him so near so soon, but she had been willing him on, kissing him back with an un-virginal hunger. He wanted this courtship over and Miss Marlow in his bed, just as much as he wanted her damned money. After the climax he’d given her last night, and it had undoubtedly been her first as she had been shocked by it, he thought she would beg him to marry her. Instead, she had run back to her family with no promise made.
He lifted his watch from the pocket of his morning coat. Five more minutes had passed.
She had stood him up.
He would never live this down after he’d bragged to his friends that they could begin their celebrations.
All women were fickle.
Then, he saw her. Surprise and relief took bites out of his heart. Then came the flood of hope on a storm of emotions deeper than he had ever experienced.
She was riding along the street outside the park, the eye of a peacock feather bouncing above her head, protruding from her hat which was the same colour as her sapphire blue habit. The colour a sharp contrast to her pale skin.
Her seat on the jet-black stallion impressed him; her spine held straight and her grip on the reins firm. She looked magnificent on the obviously expensive animal, with its sleek muscular shape and glossy well-groomed coat.
A groom rode beside her, keeping guard over Lord Marlow’s precious package.
Drew smiled, turned his mare, Athena, away from the gate and tapped his heels, commanding the animal to walk across the lawn. Their meeting must appear accidental. His heart raced as though he were galloping not walking the horse.
The sky was a glorious clear blue from one horizon to the other, but the day had not warmed yet, and the grass was damp with dew.
Drew kicked his heels and stirred his horse into a canter, giving her time to enter the park and his heartbeat a chance to recover from the sight of her.
The lawns and paths were not busy but there were others about.
Once he’d ridden a few hundred yards he swung back, turning on to the outer path. She was a couple of hundred yards into the park, rising and falling in a trot, with the groom riding beside her.
She was not looking in his direction, but he somehow knew from her stance that she’d seen him.
He rode towards her, slowing from a canter to a trot, lifting his hand as though he’d just noticed her. ‘Miss Marlow! Well met!’ He rode the last few yards with his hand raised. Then he lifted his hat and bowed his head in greeting, ignoring the glaring groom.
‘Lord Framlington.’ Her voice rang with a bright false pitch of surprise, but there was a more hesitant note too.
She was worried.
A surge of something he was not used to feeling for anyone other than his sister, Caro, surged through his blood – a need to reassure and protect.
‘You are out riding early, Miss Marlow?’
‘I had a restless night.’
‘May I ride beside you?’
‘If you must.’
Drew smiled and turned Athena to walk beside her stallion.
She smiled at the groom and lifted a hand that said, stay back .
As they continued, Drew felt the man’s glare boring into his back.
‘You are late,’ he said quietly.
‘Well, that is a woman’s right.’
‘Is it…?’ he said, through a wry smile. He was falling into the enchantment of her guileless ways – fast and hard. He no longer cared that she’d kept him waiting.
The fabric of her habit hugged the curve beneath her breasts, the arch of her lower back and her slender arms. His hunger was intense. She had an aura which pulled him close and wound around him.
It was probably just her beauty affecting him… All men must be dazzled by her. She was exceptionally pretty.
‘Let us race,’ she said, tapping her short whip on the horse’s flank, informing the animal of her command, not waiting for his agreement. It was off, tossing up divots of grass at him.
He kicked his heels and followed, rising from his saddle, balancing on the stirrups with his body low over Athena’s neck.
The rhythm of the horses’ hooves pounded on the earth. Her laughter trailed on the air.
He gained ground and then led. She did not concede but tore on towards the Serpentine.
When they neared the lake, he pulled up, a full half-leg in front. She stopped too, her horse turning circles. Her groom had been left a quarter mile back, but he could see them.
‘What was that?’ he asked.
‘Fun!’ she answered, laughter dancing in her eyes. ‘I was not going to come, you know.’
‘Then why are you here?’
‘I always behave. I always do as I should. I wished to kick up my heels.’
‘Then this is not to be taken as any indication you will marry me?’
‘Definitely not. If my family knew I was with you, they would?—’
‘Slaughter me. I know.’
‘If you know they would not agree to a match, why are you courting me?’
‘Because I would be mad not to.’ He held her gaze. ‘And you would be mad not to accept me. I gave you a glimpse last night of how good life with me could be. If you want me, you will find a way to convince your family.’
She smiled, her eyes catching the sunshine. ‘You mean, our marriage would be good in your bed. That says nothing of how we would get along. Marriage is more than that. Much more. And my family will never agree. They neither like nor trust you.’
‘No… So, why did you come then?’ His words were spoken from petulance. He did not intend to seek consent. He knew he would never be approved. The only one he sought to convince was her.
Her horse pranced. She tightened her rein and held the animal still as her gaze locked with his.
Those eyes. Who was seducing who?
‘I have no idea. I think I am insane.’
A soft ache hovered in his middle. The girl was a breath of fresh air, a light summer breeze. Sunshine.
‘Did you not sleep because you were thinking of me?’ Hope swelled again.
She blushed slightly. He hoped he’d haunted her dreams as she had his.
‘So where do we go from here?’ He encouraged her to take another step towards commitment.
A frown marred her beautiful brow. She had not spent her night thinking about his offer of marriage then, merely their embrace.
‘What next?’ Drew clarified.
She shrugged, a dainty little gesture on her slim shoulders. ‘It should be nothing.’
‘But it will not be nothing, because you are here.’ She needed more persuasion. Drew leaned forward and held her hand as it held her reins. ‘Where will you be tonight?’
Maybe her common sense told her there should be nothing more, but other parts of her, that he had sway over, would bid her answer.
‘I am attending Lady Frobisher’s musical evening.’
Musical evenings were a rogue’s curse; he could do nothing untoward when seated in a row of chairs. The game was off for tonight then.
Nor could he meet her again in the park. Once could be deemed accidental but twice would draw attention. Without doubt the groom would mention this encounter to someone in the house.
‘Miss Marlow!’ A timely call came from their rear. Her groom had come to retrieve his damsel from the beast.
Drew let her hand go. ‘Tomorrow then. Where?’
‘I shall be at the Phillips’ supper party.’ She looked away after speaking, glancing over her shoulder and smiling reassuringly at the groom.
Drew’s eldest brother had been at school with the Phillips’ son, he could obtain an invitation. ‘There then. They have a large glasshouse in the grounds, to the right of the garden. I’ll meet you there at midnight.’
* * *
Mary nodded. She had begun an intrigue. She was definitely an idiot.
‘I shall look forward to it,’ he said, reaching out a hand, palm upwards. Instinctively, she released the reins, giving him her hand. His thumb pressed into her palm as he lifted it to his lips, turned it and kissed her wrist, above her glove.
Her heart skittered, its rhythm racing violently.
When he let go, the smile on his lips also glinted in his eyes. The gleam became a wicked expression as his gaze shifted to her groom. He turned his horse and rode away.
She’d imagined spending time with him for a year… But a year ago, she would not have agreed to an assignation.
‘Forgive me, miss,’ Evans said when he drew near, ‘you should not speak with gentlemen.’
‘I shall speak with whom I wish, Evans.’ Her reply sounded like John. She was not normally harsh with servants.
‘Miss Marlow.’ The man lifted his fingers to his cap and tipped it forward. ‘Forgive me, but it is my duty to inform your father.’
‘That I met a casual acquaintance in the park by chance and spoke with him? There is nothing to tell.’ She ought to feel guilty. She did not, not yet, perhaps later. She no longer knew herself. She had lied to her family and a friend, and now she was widening the net of deceit to the servants. It would trap her in the end if she was not careful.
She turned the stallion she had borrowed from John’s stables in the direction of the park gates. I cannot continue this. Tomorrow must be the last time she spoke with him and allowed his kisses.
Unless she chose ruin…
Her heartbeat flickered and her stomach somersaulted. Was she fool enough to do that?
But John had added to her father’s dowry as a gift so she could broaden her choice of husbands and marry for love if she wanted to. Why should it matter if she chose a man who needed the money?
Because John thought Lord Framlington was false and heartless.
She rode out of the park gates beside Evans.
She thought Lord Framlington was sincere. He had not hidden his need for her fortune, just said he’d chosen her over other wealthy women.
Her heart wanted her to choose him.
But John did not like him and therefore nor did her father. Lord Framlington could never be hers unless she defied them.
You are a fool, Mary. End it tomorrow. It can go no further.
Outside her brother’s front door, Evans swung down from his saddle and offered his hand to help her dismount. She did not need it. She lifted her knee from the pommel of her side saddle and lowered herself to the step he formed with his hands, before stepping onto the floor.
‘You need not trouble yourself to tell tales, Evans, I shall inform my father,’ she told him before walking up the front steps.
‘Miss.’ He bowed and removed his hat.
Mary entered the house, as a footman held the door for her.
Her family would be in the breakfast room. She headed there, removing her hatpin and taking off her hat, then stripping off her gloves. She passed the items to a footman on the way.
Her youngest brothers and sisters ate in the nursery, but those who could sit sensibly shared the adults’ table and so the breakfast room was noisy. She smiled at her father and mother when she entered and at John and Kate.
Mary loved her family. She’d never wanted for anything. She’d always felt secure. So why did the danger Lord Framlington dangle draw her away?
‘Mr Finch said you were riding, Mary,’ her mother said with a gentle smile. ‘That is unusual for you.’ It was a subtle question.
‘I slept poorly and the morning was so sunny I could not resist.’ Mary sat among her younger brothers and sisters.
‘Had you asked I would have ridden with you,’ her father said.
‘It was a momentary decision, Papa.’ A blush warmed her cheeks. Her eyes focused on the spout of the chocolate pot a footman used to fill her cup.
‘Was Hyde Park busy?’ John asked from the head of the table.
John was older than her by a decade. He behaved more like a second father than a brother. She helped herself to bread from a plate a footman held. ‘Not very.’ She looked at John. ‘I saw Lord Framlington, though. He stopped and spoke to me.’
‘Then you must not go again without a chaperon,’ John responded.
‘John,’ Kate said from the other end of the table. ‘Mary is sensible. She took a groom and I’m sure she can cope with Lord Framlington. She was in the open.’
Mary smiled a Thank you at her sister-in-law.
The footman dished up some scrambled eggs and smoked fish.
‘I have no concern over Mary’s behaviour,’ John answered. ‘It is his I worry about.’
Mary looked at him. ‘Why do you dislike him?’
‘He’s a fortune hunter,’ her father said.
John’s eyebrows lifted. ‘And a man of his ilk is not for you.’
‘His ilk… What does that mean? What is his ilk?’ Mary could not help pressing for an explanation. She wanted to understand. She wanted to convince her heart it was wrong.
‘This is why she needs a chaperon.’ John looked at Kate. ‘He speaks to her and now she is asking foolish questions.’ He looked sternly at Mary. ‘What did he say?’
Heat burned under her skin. ‘Nothing beyond courtesy.’
‘So, he put on the charm. Do not believe any of it. It is feigned.’
Mary set down her knife and fork. ‘I cannot see?—’
‘Mary!’ Her father silenced her. ‘This is an inappropriate conversation.’ He glanced at her younger sisters. ‘I trust you to be sensible. But I agree with John, no more unaccompanied rides.’
She held her father’s gaze for a moment, then looked at John. What had Lord Framlington done to be deemed such a villain? Men needed to marry for money, that was not a crime. He was a rake, but many men were that also – they lived recklessly then grew up – as John had done.
But surely if Lord Framlington intended on marrying her, his rakishness was over and her father’s and brother’s arguments were groundless.
Mary focused on her breakfast.
Perhaps John had a vendetta against Lord Framlington; John had not spoken against any other man so vehemently.
Tomorrow she would ask him why her brother disliked him so much.
The thought of meeting him stole her appetite as a dozen butterflies took flight in her stomach.