Miss Kinsley regarded him with the look of disgust girls reserved for snails and frogs. “Any man who would suggest to a young woman that she should elope rather than listen to her papa’s advice can only be up to no good.”
“Elope?” Oliver queried, his eyes narrowing on Miss Kinsley. “This scoundrel proposed marriage to you?”
“Now, Miss Kinsley,” Nathan began in his best placating voice, “we both know it wasn’t like-“
“Quiet!” Oliver snapped at him. “Or I swear not even Maria will keep me from throttling you.”
Nathan swallowed. Hard.
I have this special license burning a hole in my pocket, so I was thinking we might go find a vicar and use it. Pinter and Freddy can be witnesses.” He looked anxiously at her. “What do you think?”
“Don’t you want your family present when we marry? I thought you lordly sorts had to have grand weddings.”
“Is that what you want?”
In truth, she’d never been one to dream of her wedding day as a brilliant spectacle. Clandestine weddings were always what captured her imagination, complete with a dangerous, brooding fellow and mysterious goings-on. In this instance, she had both.
He said, “Let me put it this way: we can spend an untold number of days sneaking around just to steal a kiss, being chaperoned every minute while my sisters and Gran plan the wedding of the century. Or we can marry today and share a bed at the inn tonight like a respectable husband and wife. I’m not keep on waiting, but then, I never am when it comes to you. So what is your opinion in the matter?”
She couldn’t resist teasing him a little. “I think you just want to punish your grandmother for her sly tactics by depriving her of the weddings.”
He smiled. “Perhaps a little. And God knows my friends are never going to let me live this down. I’m not looking forward to hours of their torment at a wedding breakfast.”
He stopped in a little copse where they would be hidden from the street. “But if you want a big wedding, I can endure it.” His expression was solemn as he took her hands in his. “I can endure anything, as long as you marry me. And keep loving me for the rest of your life.”
Staring into his earnest face, she felt something flip over in her chest. She stretched up to brush his mouth with hers, and he pulled her in for a long, ardent kiss.
“Well?” he said huskily when he was done. “If I had any sense of decency, I would give you a chance to consult with a lawyer about settlements and such, especially since you’ll be coming into some money. But-“
“-you have no sense of decency, I know,” she teased. She tapped her finger against her chin. “Or was that morals you claimed not to have? I can’t remember.”
“Watch it, minx,” he warned with a lift of his brow. “If you intend to taunt me for every foolish statement I’ve made in my life, you’ll force me to play Rockton and lock you up in my dark, forbidding manor while I have my wicked way with you.”
“That sounds perfectly awful,” she said, gazing at the man she loved. “How soon can we start?
Now, then,” he said, returning to the head of the table, “I think you should know that Gran’s original requirement is still in place. The four of you must marry or she will disinherit the lot of us. I’ve done my part. So I suggest that while Maria and I are in America, you four start looking for mates.”
It took a second for that to sink in.
Minerva exploded first. “That isn’t fair! Gran, I’m sure you’ll have your heir from Oliver and Maria in no time, given the hours they spend up there in the master bedchamber. Why in heaven’s name must you continue this farce?”
“I asked her to continue it,” Oliver said. When his siblings gaped at him, he added, “Gran is right-it’s time that we take our place in the world as more than hellions. We’ve been sleepwalking too long, locked into the past, unable to live fruitful lives. Now that Maria has awakened me, I want to wake you up, too. I want you to stop boxing at shadows and hiding in the dark from the scandal of our parents’ deaths. I want you to find what I’ve found-love.”
He gazed at Maria, who cast him an encouraging smile. They’d both agreed that this might be the only way to force his siblings awake.
“Speak for yourself,” Minerva answered. “I’m perfectly fine. You’re just using that nonsense as an excuse for joining up with Gran to ruin our lives.” She glanced resentfully at Maria. “Is this the thanks we get for pushing him into your arms?”
“Pushing me into her arms?” Oliver echoed.
“All that making you jealous and keeping you from her-“ Gabe began.
“And lying to you about her inheritance,” Jarret added. “Though that didn’t work out quite as planned.”
“You wouldn’t even be together if not for us,” Celia said.
“I suspect my wife would beg to differ,” Oliver drawled. “But that’s neither here nor there. Rail at me all you want, but Gran’s deadline is still in place. You have ten months to marry.” He cast them a thin smile. “Given how difficult that may prove, however, I’ve hired someone to help you.”
He turned to the door. “Mr. Pinter? Would you step inside, please?”
The Bow Street Runner walked in, looking uneasy at facing the entire cadre of scandalous Sharpes.
“Mr. Pinter has agreed to help you by researching the backgrounds of your potential spouses. I know it can be difficult, especially for you girls, to sort the legitimate suitors from the fortune hunters.” He knew that firsthand. “So Mr. Pinter will investigate anyone who sparks your interest. That should make the entire process move more quickly.”
“And cold-bloodedly,” Celia muttered under her breath.
Pinter arched an eyebrow but said nothing.
Good lack-a-daisy, Clara!" her aunt reproached her. "The man might dress improperly, but he's
behaving like a perfect gentleman otherwise. And being wonderfully kind to the lassies, too. Why do you
insist on being rude to him?"
"Yes, mademoiselle," Morgan teased, "do explain yourself." Settling back against the carriage, he
crossed his brawny arms over his chest. The muscles strained against the flimsy cambric shirt, making her
mouth go dry. Why must a scoundrel fit only for hell possess a body fit for heaven?
I have to second Gran’s thanks for not giving up on me.”
“I did consider it a few times,” she teased. “But you can be such an engaging fellow that I never considered it for long.”
“And there was all that encouragement from my siblings,” he said. “All their little machinations to help our romance along.”
He had the satisfaction of watching his wife blush very prettily. “I didn’t have anything to do with that. I had no idea they were trying to ‘push you’ anywhere.”
“Of course you didn’t. You don’t have an ounce of guile in your entire body. But I knew what they were doing.”
She blinked at him. “You did?”
“My siblings are as transparent as that fetching night rail you put on every evening.”
“If you knew, why didn’t you fight them?”
“Because they were pushing me in a direction I wanted to go.”
“That’s very sweet, but I’m sure you had no desire to marry until-“
“From the moment I met you, sweetheart, I could tell I was in trouble. I didn’t acknowledge it, but on some level I sensed it. When a man first sees the thing he never realized he wanted, he knows it instantly. He just doesn’t always know how to get it.”
She laughed. “Oh, I think you figured out very quickly how to get it. You just kissed me until I stopped kneeing you in the privates, and after that I was putty in your hands.”
“So that’s the secret, is it?” Reaching over, he hauled her onto his lap. “Now I know how I’ll be spending my afternoon.”
Her eyes gleamed at him. “Meeting with the tenants?”
“Guess again.” He began to unbutton her gown, which very conveniently opened in the front.
“Consulting with the carpenter?”
“Absolutely not.” Kissing each swath of flesh revealed with the release of a button, he started dragging up her skirts with his other hand.
“Seducing your wife?” she teased, then caught her breath as he slipped his hand between her legs to find her already ready for him.
“Exactly. But, if you don’t mind, I believe I shall skip the part where you knee me in the privates.”
And as she burst into laughter, he set about to show her the decided advantages in marrying a rakehell.
So now Nathan had a new partner, who, by all accounts, was a dour old drudge with nary a daughter to his name. She’d seen Nathan in town once since then. He had not looked happy.
But she was insanely happy, especially after what the doctor had hold her yesterday. With only a few days left at home, she and Freddy had dragged Jane and Oliver on a romantic picnic. So far, it wasn’t going all that well. Poor Jane darted up at every sound. Freddy’s mischievous brothers had convinced her that wild Indians might descend upon them any minute, and no amount of Freddy’s posturing with the sword could relieve her fears.
Oliver was no help, either. He kept pretending to see feather headdresses behind every bush, though Maria had told him repeatedly that the only tribes in their area had left long ago. He was every bit as devilish as her cousins, who’d embraced him instantly as a man after their own heats. Aunt Rose had pronounced Oliver a smooth-tongued rogue the first time he told her how fetching she looked in her peacock bonnet.
Little did she know.
“Are you sure there’s a fish pond back there, Freddy?” Jane asked skeptically as Freddy led her around a deserted cabin.
“Quite sure.” He puffed out his chest. “I’ve caught many a fine trout in that pond.”
“More like trout bait,” Maria told Oliver, who was stretched out on the blanket beside her, reading a letter from Jarret. “I’ve never seen a fish longer than my thumb in that pond.
You were never as much to blame as you thought,” she told him softly.
A brief smile touched his lips. “That’s what you say. But you’re biased.”
She shrugged. “Maybe a little. But I would never have agreed to marry you if I’d thought you capable of real wickedness. I wouldn’t have risked having a child of mine suffer the same torments you and your siblings suffered.”
Oliver went still. “And does this sudden mention of some future child have anything to do with your sneaking out of the house to consult with a physician this morning?”
She gaped at him. “You knew? How did you find out?”
“Believe me, angel, I know whenever you leave my bed.” His eyes gleamed at her. “I feel the loss of it right here.” He struck his heart dramatically.
“Aunt Rose spoke the truth about you,” she grumbled. “You are a smooth-tongued devil. And apparently you read minds, as well.”
He chuckled. “Your aunt simply cannot keep secrets. But to be honest, it’s not been hard to notice how little interest you show in your breakfast these days, and how often you like to nap. I know the signs of a woman with child. I watched my mother go through them with four children.”
“And here I was hoping to surprise you,” she said with a pout. “I swear you are impossible to surprise.”
“That’s only because you used up all your surprises in the first hour of our meeting.”
“How so?”
“By boldly threatening me with Freddy’s sword. And by agreeing to my insane proposal. Then by showing sympathy for the loss of my parents. Few people ever did that for me.”
As a lump caught in her throat, he pulled her into his arms. “But your greatest surprise came long after, on that day at the inn.” Laying his hand on her still flat belly, his voice grew husky. “You surprised me by loving me. That was the best surprise of all.
Why would you think there was anything more between me and Mr. Pinter?"
Because you blush when his name is mentioned. Because he follows you with his eyes. Because I do not know what to make of him, and that worries me.
Perhaps everything was just as it appeared. Though the girl seemed to be up to something suspicious, it didn't seem to involve any deep feelings for Mr. Pinter.
Now if only she could be as sure about Mr. Pinter's feelings for Celia...
Behind her, the two Sharpe sisters came out to cross the courtyard. He dragged in a heavy breath as the younger one caught his eye.
Masters approached to look out the window, too. "And there she comes, the most beautiful woman in the world."
"And the most maddening," Jackson muttered.
"Watch it, Pinter," Masters said in a voice tinged with amusement. "That's my wife you're talking about."
Jackson started. He hadn't been staring at Mrs. Masters. "I beg your pardon," he murmured, figuring he'd best not explain.
Masters would never accept that Lady Celia was to her sister as a gazelle was to a brood mare. The newly wedded barrister was blinded by love.
Jackson wasn't. Any fool could see that Lady Celia was the more arresting of the two. While Mrs. Masters had the lush charms of a dockside tart, Lady Celia was a Greek goddess-willowy and tall, small-breasted and long-limbed, with a fine lady's elegant brow, a doe's soft eyes...
And a vixen's temper. The damned female could flay the flesh from a man's bones with her sharp tongue.
She could also heat his blood with one unguarded smile.
God save him, it was a good thing her smile had never been bestowed on him. Otherwise, he might act on the fantasy that had plagued him from the day he'd met her-to shove her into some private closet where he could plunder her mouth with impunity. Where she would wrap those slender arms about his neck and let him have his way with her.
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