She clutched the fabric of his shirt. Her heart was racing too fast, her hands shaking, and her eyes…
Oh drat. She squeezed them shut, willing away the tears.
It was the shock of it all, that was all.
His hands on her back were so large and so warm. So rough she could feel his callouses through the thin material of her dress.
When her breathing started to slow, he pulled back to look down at her and the threat of tears started all over again at the tenderness she saw there. His dark eyes were filled with a warmth she’d never seen before.
A warmth that wasn’t friendship and wasn’t familial—and yet it made her feel loved.
Ridiculous, obviously. But it helped to soothe her all the same.
“I’ll have Mrs. Tate ready a room for you,” he said.
She gulped, wanting to protest but knowing she’d lost this argument.
She bit her lip as she tried to resign herself to this new reality. “My family will be worried when I do not return.”
He eyed her steadily and she wondered if he knew that she was lying. There was every chance no one would even notice.
“We can send word that you are well.”
She frowned. “You wish me to tell them that I am well. That I am merely staying at a strange man’s home. Nothing to worry about.”
His lips twitched at her sarcasm. “I’d thought perhaps we could lie. Tell them you decided to stay at the school for the night.”
She nodded slowly. “I could say that I went there to see friends and lost track of time, perhaps.” Her voice trailed off. The details of her lie didn’t really matter. Her stepmother would likely be pleased to have her out of the house for a while and her father…
Well, she wasn’t even sure he knew she’d been staying with them.
She sighed. “Very well. I suppose I will have to talk to Miss Grayson tomorrow. Let her know what is happening so she can lie on my behalf should anyone ask.”
He nodded. “I’ll go with you.”
She wanted to argue but the truth was, she wasn’t certain she’d feel safe without him at her side.
“Come,” he said. “Let us get you situated so you can rest.”
She nodded, letting him lead her toward the door. She stopped as the biggest fear of all had her worrying her lower lip. “What will we say if anyone discovers that I’ve been staying here…with you?”
He eyed her for a long moment, and when he spoke his voice was low and even. “If that happens, we will just have to wed.”
Chapter Nine
The moment the words came out of his mouth, he knew it was a mistake.
Or rather, he knew that it was a mistake to say it aloud.
He also realized at the same exact time, that it was a mistake to say it aloud because…he meant it. He would marry her if it meant keeping her and her reputation safe. He stared at her blankly as the realization hit home.
He wasn’t certain who was more horrified.
She broke the silence with a wail. “I cannot marry you.”
Well then. It seemed Delilah was definitely the more horrified of the two.
“Then let us hope it does not come to that,” he said, hoping the end the discussion.
But she continued to gape at him in horror. “I cannot marry you,” she said again, changing the emphasis as though he might not have understood.
“Yes, you have said that already.” He kept his voice low and even. This conversation had to end. Now. He wasn’t an overly proud man. He’d never deluded himself into thinking he was so devastatingly handsome to those of the fairer sex. He knew he had none of the charm and manners that a young woman like Delilah expected. He’d been out of society too long to remember all that was proper and pleasing to a lady. And yet…
“I cannot marry you.” She was shaking her head now and looked frighteningly close to tears at the thought.
“Yes,” he said. “You have made this very clear.”
His pride stung. He could admit it. He’d never actually proposed to a lady before—in fact, up until tonight, he’d assumed he’d continue his life as a bachelor quite contentedly. From the moment he’d opted to live outside society and pursue justice instead of the life of a gentleman, he’d understood that he was likely not fit to marry. At least not a lady of the ton.
It was a lonely life he’d chosen, and he had no qualms with that. There were moments, of course, on long and lonely assignments, when perhaps he’d considered what it would be to have a partner to come home to, but even in those fantasies he’d known better than to imagine some society darling. No, what he needed was a helpmate. A woman with skills and prowess of her own. Someone strong who could face the dangers that came with his line of work.
Someone he wouldn’t have to worry about.
“I just...I meant to say…” She shook her head, apparently now too horrified to piece words together. Which was for the best as he had an inkling what she was about to say.
Again.
Sure enough… “I cannot—”
“Marry me. Yes, I understand that very well, Miss Clemmons. Your point has been made.” But you might not have a choice.
He did not say that, of course.
The poor girl was only just now recovering from her earlier shock. Her life had gone through an epic upheaval, and he couldn’t expect her to now understand and comprehend the fact that her life plans, such as they were, may have been forever altered.
“But I might have to,” she said, a high, breathless note in her voice hinting at hysteria. “That’s what you mean to say. I might have to marry you or risk total ruin.”
He studied her with increasing alarm.
She’d clearly been in shock earlier, just after the accident. That had been expected. Her life had been in danger, and her world turned upside down.
But he suspected she was only now beginning to see the ramifications. She was just now beginning to understand that the life she’d been meant to live might never come about.
She might just end up a scandal. Or worse, stuck with a man like him.
“I-I…Y-You—” Her voice was edging up, and her breathing was coming in dangerously shallow gasps. Her eyes were unfocused and her hands fluttered helplessly at her side.
And all at the thought of marrying me.
He tried not to take it personally, he truly did. “Hush, Delilah,” he said, taking a small step forward, afraid of alarming her further, but wanting to comfort her all the same.
For a man who’d eschewed polite society to build a life of independence, competence, and strength, it was a rare moment indeed to find himself so incredibly…useless.
When she didn’t try to back away he took another step forward. Her eyes were darting about and her breathing was growing so erratic, he feared she might faint. “There, there.” He reached out to pat her arm. It was meant to be consoling but just seemed rather awkward.
He wasn’t sure what his problem was. Twice this afternoon he’d held her in his arms, more intimately than he’d ever held anyone, truth be told.
But that was before he’d gone and mentioned marriage. And now…
Well, now it was impossible not to look at her and imagine what it might be like if he could hold her like that at any time. Not because she feared for her safety, not for any particular reason at all. But just because she was his to hold. To protect and to cherish.
The air rushed from his lungs as a wave of emotion hit him like a tidal wave.
Never before had he even contemplated marriage, and now it was all he could imagine.
More alarmingly, it was all he wanted.
But not just any marriage…
Her wild gaze finally met his and his heart stalled in his chest as something seemed to pass between them, a physical but invisible connection that had his heart stuttering back into action with a painful thud against his ribcage.
He wanted to marry her.
To his surprise, she took a step toward him, her hands reach
ing out until they were pressed to his chest. “What am I going to do, Mr. Calloway? My life is over.”
He wasn’t sure what affected him more. The pitiable words or the feel of her touch as her fingers pressed into him, clutching the fabric of his jacket like a lifeline.
She needed him. Maybe not forever, maybe not even after tomorrow, but for now, she needed him to be strong for her.
And with that thought, his wounded pride was forgotten, and his selfish wishes pushed to the side.
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in closer. “We will figure this out,” he said softly. His voice was firm. It was a promise. A vow. And one he meant to keep. “I will never let Everley harm you.”
“But he’s to be my husband,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper. “My father promised me to him. And you said it yourself. It is my suspicions against a gentleman’s word. No one will believe me.”
He watched her throat work as she swallowed. “My own father might not believe me.” She shut her eyes as she clearly struggled for control. “He might not care.”
He had no idea what to say to that but his heart broke at the pain that flickered across those beautiful, delicate features. He doubted anyone had ever seen this strong, proud woman so vulnerable, and the thought that she was opening up to him, of all people, was humbling, even as he told himself that it was only because he was here.
He was her only option.
Her eyes fluttered open and once more he forgot all about reason and all about pride. “What if he comes after me again? What if my father insists on the wedding?” Her voice was growing hysterical again and tears now welled in her eyes.
Everything in him ached with the need to help her. To calm her. To…distract her, at the very least.
“What if no one believes me? What if—”
He kissed her.
They both froze as his lips crushed hers. What was he doing? He didn’t know. And at this particular moment, he didn’t care. The scent of her, the feel of her in his arms, the taste of her soft lips…
All combined, it washed away every intelligent thought in a heartbeat.
Her lips parted slightly on a gasp and he moved against her, tasting her sweetness, teasing her until she kissed him back. Lightly at first. Tentatively. Her hands still pressed to his chest, she came to life in his arms, slowly and exquisitely.
He forced himself to move slowly, keeping his hands on her back as he explored the softness of her lips, as he reveled in the sweet intimacy of her breath mingling with his.
Her fingers curled into his flesh as she leaned forward, deepening the kiss as their lips clung together, no longer teasing but tasting. Exploring.
The summer heat had nothing on the flow of lava in his veins that made him feel possessed with the need to hold her closer, to kiss her deeper, to clutch her to his heart and never let go.
The sound of a servant in the hallway, heading toward the stairs to ready a room for his guest broke through his haze and had him pulling back reluctantly.
Her breathing was still uneven, but she no longer looked like she might faint. Her eyes were still closed, her lips still parted—
Perfection. She was utter perfection.
When she opened her eyes, he saw her surprise. No doubt it matched his. It wasn’t as though he’d planned to kiss her.
She blinked once. Twice. Then she took a step back and he dropped his arms to let her go.
“What was—”
“Go get some rest, Delilah.” He cut off her questions…questions he wasn’t quite sure how to answer. “Mrs. Tate will show you to your room and make sure you are comfortable.”
She shut her mouth and nodded, shuffling backwards toward the door.
“Everything will be clearer in the morning,” he promised.
Chapter Ten
The next morning nothing was clearer.
Delilah nibbled on a pastry Mrs. Tate had brought her along with tea and a basin of water to freshen herself.
If anything, she was more confused than ever.
She had half a mind to tell Mr. Calloway that he was a liar. Making promises he couldn’t keep.
Like promising to marry her.
Her mouth stopped working mid-chew. Her heart did that thing it had taken to doing lately. It seemed to be attempting an escape, and every time it happened, it stole her breath and made her insides ache.
He’d offered to marry her. The crazy man with the nice home and lovely servants had offered to marry her.
She looked around her. How did he afford all this as a private investigator? She supposed it would be rude to ask.
Although, rudeness rarely stopped her from anything. It certainly hadn’t stopped her from refusing his marriage offer.
She winced and shoved the rest of the pastry into her mouth all at once, as if a mound of sugar might tamper the guilt and humiliation.
She might not be known for her sweet nature, but even she knew better than to insult the man who’d saved her life.
She hadn’t meant to, but the unexpected proposal had been the proverbial last straw.
For the first time since her carriage had come under attack, she’d honestly feared for her life. Not because she thought Mr. Calloway would hurt her. Her heart did that silly move again as she remembered the way he’d treated her yesterday. He’d been nothing but kind and caring. For a man who looked so brutish, he’d been surprisingly gentle with her.
On top of that, he’d done the unthinkable and made her feel safe and secure.
Until he’d mentioned marriage. Up until that moment she hadn’t really given much thought about the future. She hadn’t been able to as she’d been consumed with fears for her imminent safety.
But with that odd half-proposal, she’d realized with a start—her life might never be the same. It had shaken her to her core and she’d spoken without thought, fear and confusion winning out over any sort of politeness or etiquette.
She sighed as she swallowed the last of the pastry. Sugar did indeed help her nerves. As did the morning light streaming through the window. It was hard to feel terrified of an ominous fiancé when she was safe and well-fed with the sun shining and birds chirping outside her window.
And yet…what she would do next?
That was still unclear.
How Mr. Calloway would ensure Lord Everley did not hurt her again?
Equally unclear.
And then there was the matter of her father. She would have to explain to her father that she could not perform the one duty she’d been raised to perform. Her sole reason for existing in this family was to make a good match, and now…
Now she had no idea where she’d end up or with whom.
The only thing clear was just how uncertain her future was.
She did her best to freshen her appearance but was forced to wear the same gown as the day before. She pinched her cheeks to try and ward off the pallor that was making her look like a ghost.
Fear for one’s life tended to wreak havoc on one’s complexion, she now knew. This was a life lesson she could have done without.
When at last she could not delay the inevitable, she found herself walking slowly down the steps toward the dining room, where she’d been told she could find the master of the house.
A whole new set of nerves had her steeling her spine and tilting up her chin. These nerves had nothing to do with her safety and everything to do with seeing the man who had kissed her last night.
Her first kiss…and oh, what a kiss.
She stopped in the hallway just outside the dining room, giving herself a moment to let her silly heart do that ridiculous dance and waiting for her insides to settle.
It was just a kiss.
A big deal to her, of course, but it had likely meant nothing to him. The best thing to do was to ignore it. Pretend it never happened. Emotions had been high and the situation tense.
Kisses were likely to sprout up at times like that. Like smelling salts. Or a cup of tea.
Kisses were just a way of calming one’s nerves. Everyone knew that.
She clasped her hands together, single-mindedly ignoring the voice of reason that told her last night’s kiss had done nothing to calm her. It had done the opposite, in fact.
She’d lain awake for hours replaying that kiss as her heart had thudded in her chest like a runaway horse.
And now she was frozen, stuck standing in a hallway because her silly heart was overreacting. Her belly too. Her entire body seemed to be suffering a fit of nerves, and over what…?
A meaningless kiss.
“He’s just in there, miss,” a servant kindly pointed out, as though she were lost.
Delilah nodded her thanks. There was nothing for it but to face him. Head held high, a smile on her face, and her heart firmly in its proper place.
“Good morning,” she said as she entered.
Mr. Calloway was finished with his meal, it seemed, and was stretched back in his seat with a newspaper spread wide before him. “Morning,” he muttered, never looking up as he scowled down at the news.
“Not a morning person, are we?” she asked lightly.
He grunted.
She grinned. Her tension dissolved a bit at the normalcy of it all. Well, not normal. She couldn’t say she’d ever had breakfast alone with a gentleman she barely knew before.
Though she wasn’t sure she could continue thinking of him as a stranger, she realized as she sank into the seat opposite him.
She studied him now, from his too-long, far too disheveled hair, to the blunt nose, the seemingly permanent stubble on his chin… She had a visceral memory of how that stubble had felt when he’d kissed her. The surprisingly delicious feel of his rough skin against her sensitive flesh.
She shivered.
No, he was definitely not a stranger anymore. Which begged the question…what was he?
Friend? Ally?
“Would you like something to eat?” he asked abruptly, finally looking up to consider her. “Mrs. Tate can prepare something for you. I don’t normally eat breakfast but I’m sure she’d be willing to—”
“I already ate, thank you,” she said. She found herself battling a grin.
The School of Charm: Books 1-5 Page 35
