Whirlwind Wedding

by Jacquie D’Alessandro

  Fear flickered through Caroline's expression. "He is going to be all right, isn't he?"

  "Yes." In an attempt to calm Caroline's fears, Elizabeth smiled at her. "Your brother has an exceptionally hard head."

  "Indeed he does." Caroline gathered her into her arms. "My God Elizabeth. You saved Austin's life. I'll always be in your debt. Can I do anything to help?"

  "You could start by removing your knee from my fingers," came Austin's raspy voice. "The last thing I need is one more aching body part."

  Caroline gasped and immediately moved back. "Austin. Are you all right?" Lifting his hand she cradled it against her cheek.

  "I'm a bit sore around the edges, but otherwise fine." His eyes settled on Elizabeth.

  She offered him a gentle smile. "You're looking better."

  "I'm feeling better. Thanks to you."

  Their gazes met and held. Elizabeth longed to reach out and touch him, but controlled the impulse in front of Caroline and the Digby daughters. There was something in his eyes, something intense and compelling, but she couldn't read the expression. Tearing her gaze from his, she stood and attempted to brush the twigs and dirt from her rumpled gown.

  "Do you feel well enough to travel back to the house?" Caroline asked. "Shall I return to the house and bring help?"

  Austin forced himself to give Caroline his full attention. When he did the significance of her question hit him squarely between the eyes. "Help? God no." With an effort he pushed himself into a sitting position, then sat for a moment with his eyes closed waiting for the waves of dizziness to pass. After a moment and a series of deep breaths, he felt considerably better.

  "Surely you realize, Caroline, that you cannot bring anyone here. Elizabeth would be ruined. We need to get her back to the house before someone misses her or sees her looking so disheveled. Now. Before it's too late."

  Caroline coughed into her hand then inclined her head in a meaningful fashion toward the doorway.

  With a sense of dread Austin turned around. Two young women, one who resembled a bug wearing a bonnet and the other an open-mouthed carp, gaped at him.

  He closed his eyes and groaned. In addition to then-other faults, the Digby daughters had miserable timing.

  He was getting married.

  Austin sat in his private study and watched the door close behind his mother and Lady Penbroke. Lady Pen-broke was ecstatic, her feathers dancing and quivering with her excitement. His mother's reaction to his news had been a bit more reserved, but he knew she understood his responsibility to marry Elizabeth and she respected his decision. She'd naturally hoped for him to marry a highborn English girl, but he had no doubt that she'd cope with the situation and do all she could to ease Elizabeth's entrance into her new position. She and Lady Penbroke had agreed to make the necessary arrangements for the wedding. His only request was that they not tell anyone of their plans until he'd spoken to Elizabeth and formally announced their betrothal.

  He ran a hand over his face, then leaned back in his chair. Marriage. He'd known the instant he'd seen the Digby daughters at the tower that he would have to marry Elizabeth. She'd saved his life and ruined herself in the process. Of course, both Digby daughters had vowed ad nauseam, that they wouldn't breathe a word of what they'd seen, and he supposed that was possible. After all, the idiotic chits didn't want him off the marriage mart-unless it was to leg-shackle himself to one of them, a prospect that brought a shudder and had him reaching for his brandy. But their promised silence was not something he trusted.

  Marriage. He'd avoided it for years. Yet, for reasons he could not decipher, he wasn't distressed at the prospect. He realized a few eyebrows would be raised at his choice of an American for his duchess, but as she was the niece of an earl, he knew the ripple would quickly quiet.

  In fact, he knew damn well that once the engagement was announced, the same people who now disparaged Miss Elizabeth Matthews, Colonial Upstart, would seek to gain the favor of the future Duchess of Bradford. Although the knowledge disgusted him, he couldn't squelch the grim satisfaction that flowed through him. No one would dare utter another unkind word against her without incurring his wrath.

  A series of mental pictures of Elizabeth rose before him. Elizabeth tumbling out of the bushes. Sleeping under the huge oak tree. Sketching him. Sliding off her horse. Covered in mud. Smiling. Laughing. Teasing.

  A smile tugged at his lips. Although there was no denying this was a marriage of convenience to save her from ruin, he suspected he wouldn't find married life boring.

  And of course marriage would allow him to bed her. His pulse stirred at the very thought. He pictured her lying in his bed her beautiful hair spread all around her, her arms reaching out for him. That part of his marriage would be very… pleasurable.

  Now all he had to do was propose.

  When Elizabeth entered his study late that afternoon in answer to his summons, Austin was amused by the thorough visual inspection she gave him.

  "How are you feeling?" she asked looking concerned. "You should be resting."

  "I'm fine, thanks to you." He smiled at her and was rewarded with a delicate pink blush.

  "Is your wound causing you any discomfort? I can mix you a remedy if it is."

  He recalled the last foul-tasting tisane she'd given him and barely suppressed a shudder. "It hardly hurts at all. That salve you prepared worked wonders."

  "I'm glad." Her gaze scanned his face, then rested on the bandage at his temple. "It is indeed fortunate that I possess such a robust constitution or you may have frightened me to death." Once again meeting his eyes, she said briskly, "But we've already argued about that. I understand you wish to discuss something with me?"

  Austin hesitated, not quite sure how to proceed. He normally was never at a loss for words, especially with a woman, but then he'd never proposed before.

  He cleared his throat. "I'm sure you're aware that what happened last evening and our being discovered together this morning essentially destroyed your reputation."

  She raised her brows. "Have the Digby girls been gossiping in spite of their promises not to? Caroline all but held me prisoner in her bedchamber since we arrived back at the house this morning, and she's refused to discuss matters with me until you and I spoke. If a scandal is brewing, surely we can squelch any rumors. After all, nothing happened between us."

  "Really?" Reaching out, he trailed a fingertip over the pale freckles gilding her nose. "We kissed." His voice dropped to a husky whisper. "We spent the night alone together. We were discovered wrapped in each other's arms."

  Color stained her cheeks. "You were injured and I helped you. That we spent the night together is totally beside the point, and it was also unavoidable. Surely anyone would understand that."

  "No one would understand that, Elizabeth. Most especially not your aunt."

  "Oh, dear. Has a scandal erupted?"

  "No."

  "Then Aunt Joanna doesn't-" "She knows."

  "She does? How do you know that?"

  "I told her."

  She planted her hands on her hips and glared at him. "It appears it isn't the Digby girls' mouths we need to worry about running amok. What exactly did you tell her?"

  "The truth. That my injuries, coupled with the storm, necessitated us spending the night together at the ruins. Unchaperoned."

  "Was Aunt Joanna terribly upset?"

  "Not after I assured her that no scandal would touch you. In fact, she was quite pleased with my solution."

  "What solution?"

  "You and I shall marry."

  She appeared frozen in place, a study of blank amazement. She stared at him and a full minute of the most deafening silence he'd ever heard ensued. With each passing second his heart beat in slower, harder thumps until his chest felt as if it would burst. Finally she cleared her throat and spoke.

  "You must be joking."

  It was Austin's turn to stare. He wasn't certain what he'd thought her response would be, but it hadn't occurred
to him she would think he spoke in jest.

  "I assure you I am quite serious," he said stiffly. "As my wife, no one would dare utter a word against you. Any dalliance we may have engaged in prior to the actual nuptials would be overlooked because a wedding was in the immediate offing."

  She clasped her hands in front of her, twisting her fingers. "Austin, I greatly appreciate this noble gesture, but surely such drastic measures are unnecessary."

  "Such measures are absolutely necessary. Even if you choose to shrug off the damage to your reputation, the scandal will attach itself to Lady Penbroke. Do you want to see her ostracized from Society?"

  "Of course not! Aunt Joanna has been nothing but kind to me."

  "And would you repay her kindness by risking her position amongst the ton?"

  Her eyes widened into pools of distress. "No! But-"

  "Then marriage is the only way to protect yourself and her," he stated amazed-and damn it, annoyed-by her obvious reluctance to become his wife.

  Her golden brown gaze was so filled with worry, he wondered if he'd proposed marriage or a tar and feathering. A thread of unexpected amusement worked its way through his irritation-not at her, but at himself and his own conceit. He'd never expected he'd actually need to convince a woman to be his bride.

  One look at her face told him he'd have to do just that.

  Adopting a mildly teasing tone, he said "Your expression, which can only be described as troubled, indicates you haven't taken into account the fact that marriage to me would come along with certain benefits."

  His pride took another slap at her confused look.

  "Benefits?"

  "Yes. It is an English word meaning 'good things.' For instance, you would be a duchess."

  Every drop of color drained from her face. "I do not want to be a duchess!"

  He would have staked his own life on the certainty that he'd never hear those words uttered from any woman's lips. Before he could fashion a reply, she started to pace in front of him.

  "Surely you can see that I'm a social failure and would make a dreadful duchess," she said. "People snicker at me from behind potted palms. I'm awkward. I know nothing about fashion. I'm a miserable dancer. And in case you haven't noticed I'm horribly tall."

  Austin's jaw tightened. "No one will snicker at the Duchess of Bradford." Not if they want to keep all their teeth in place. "As for the other things, you can easily learn about fashion and dancing. Between your aunt, my mother, and Caroline, you'll know more than you ever wanted to."

  She stopped pacing and faced him, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You're quite adept at solving problems, I see. How do you propose we cure my height?"

  He stroked his chin and pretended to ponder the matter. "Personally, I rather like the easy access to your mouth, and in case it's missed your notice, I am taller than you."

  Her eyes filled with tenderness. "Oh, Austin, you are indeed wonderful to offer to sacrifice yourself this way, but I simply cannot allow you to do so. I would never want to bring embarrassment or shame to you and your family."

  He barely refrained from shaking his head in amazement. She wasn't thinking of herself-she was thinking of him. And how ironic that the things she believed were faults-her awkwardness, her lack of dancing ability and fashion sense, and her height-were just a few of the dozens of things he found so unique, refreshing, and fascinating about her. The fact that she would even consider not accepting an offer of marriage from the man dubbed "England's Most Eligible Bachelor" truly stunned him.

  And made him all the more determined to have his way.

  As for bringing shame to the Bradford name, there wasn't anything she could do that could be worse than the secrets he already lived with-secrets that would destroy his entire family.

  "You don't want to embarrass me, yet refusing my proposal will do just that," he said. "Everyone will believe that I'm a dishonorable libertine who ruined you, then refused to offer you marriage." He pushed aside his guilt at manipulating her soft heart and forced himself to add "I'd be summarily cast out of Society, no doubt forced to flee to the Continent like Brummell."

  "Oh, Austin, I-"

  He touched a single fingertip to her lips. "Marry me, Elizabeth." To his surprise, he realized he was holding his breath, anxiously awaiting her answer.

  Elizabeth gazed at his impossibly handsome, incredibly serious face and her insides simply melted. His proposal reverberated over and over again in her mind. Marry me. Marry me. Marry me.

  Dear God, how could she possibly say no? How could any woman say no to this man? Even if she didn't consider the possible social harm to him and Aunt Joanna, she couldn't deny her feelings for Austin. Although she wished she didn't, she loved him. She wanted to help him. Protect him. What if further danger befell him? Whether he realized it or not, he needed her.

  But he didn't love her. He was simply offering to marry her to save her reputation, to preserve his honor.

  Sadness washed over her, but even as it did a tiny voice inside gave her hope. He may not love me now, but if I can discover something about William to prove he s alive, or perhaps learn something about this Frenchman… if I can bring Austin peace, then maybe he will grow to love me. As I love him.

  Was it possible? Could he fall in love with her? Clearly he could have his choice of any of the beautiful, fashionable Society femmes that moved in his world. She was painfully aware that she did not measure up in any way.

  But by offering to marry her, he was clearly willing to make a huge sacrifice for her sake. The sheer enormity of that sacrifice stole her breath. Dear God he was willing to spend the rest of his life with her. Surely it wasn't an offer he made lightly. So surely he had to care for her, even if it was just the tiniest bit.

  Didn't he?

  It wasn't an ideal situation, but it was a start. She'd be a fool to refuse the proposal of the man she loved, and it was sophistication-not intelligence-she lacked. There was only one answer. Before she could open her mouth, however, he spoke, his tone distinctly dry.

  "I must say, your continued silence is a bit… deflating. I've waited nine and twenty years to offer myself on the matrimonial altar, Elizabeth. Are you going to turn me down?"

  Good heavens, he actually looked… worried. A grin tugged at her lips. She tried to suppress it, but wasn't entirely successful. "Well, it has always been a dream of mine to give a crushing set down to an overamorous suitor."

  Austin saw her dimples peeking through, heard her teasing tone, and forced his tensed muscles to relax. He stepped closer to her, until no more than several inches separated them. Skimming his hands down her arms, he entwined their fingers, then lightly brushed his lips over her cheek.

  "I see. And if I were to become overamorous?" He breathed in the soft fragrance of lilacs, then gently captured her earlobe between his teeth.

  "Oh!" Her shudder of pleasure filled him with masculine satisfaction. "Well, in that case, I suppose I would…" Her voice trailed off into nothingness as he kissed his way down her slender neck. She tilted her head back to give him better access and he touched his tongue to the rapidly beating pulse at the base of her throat. Her skin was smooth as cream and she tasted like flowers and warm sunshine. Like no other woman.

  He lifted his head and studied her lovely, flushed face. Her eyes were closed her lips moist and slightly parted her breath coming in uneven puffs. "In that case you would…?" he prompted.

  She dragged her eyelids open and stared directly into his eyes. The warmth and tenderness shimmering in her expressive golden-brown depths awed him. He searched his memory and realized that no one had ever looked at him that way before. Heat pumped through him and his body pulsed to life.

  A hesitant smile trembled on her lips. "I would relent and marry you."

  An incredible wave of what could only be described as relief swept through him. "Is that a yes?"

  "Yes."

  Thank God. The thought hit him with the force of a fist to his head. Refusing to examine
it, he instead gathered her in his arms. His mouth descended and claimed hers in a searing kiss that left them both breathless. His lips caressed her hungrily, his tongue slipping into the velvety warmth of her mouth. Moaning softly, she pressed herself against him and returned his kiss with a fervor that all but shattered his powers of restraint. God. I cannot wait until this woman is mine.

  Her name whispered past his lips and he sifted his fingers through her silky hair while his mouth ravished hers, his tongue dipping and plunging, tasting her sweet warmth, until he ached beyond reason. Bloody hell, he wanted her. Now. Wanted her under him, over him, wrapped around him-

  "Am I interrupting?" an amused voice asked from the doorway.

  Austin stilled and smothered a heartfelt curse. Damn it all, Robert had been away from home for two months. Surely his younger brother could have remained away for another two minutes.

  Lifting his head Austin stared at Elizabeth's stricken, beet-red face. And her kiss-swollen lips. Robert was going to pay for this interruption. Very dearly.

  Elizabeth tried to wriggle from his embrace, but he tightened his arms around her. "It's all right," he whispered. "It's only my brother." Keeping one arm firmly wrapped around her waist, he turned and shot Robert a murderous look. "I suppose while you were frolicking on the Continent, you forgot what a closed door means."

  "Not at all," Robert replied his gaze settling on Elizabeth with avid curiosity. "I knocked. Several times, in fact. You were apparently too, um… busy to hear me. I was about to return to the drawing room when I heard an unmistakable moan from within. Naturally I was concerned for your safety, so I entered." A devilish grin curved his lips. "Clearly there was no cause for alarm." He cleared his throat. "So, are you going to introduce me to this lovely young lady?"

  Austin wanted to introduce him to the privet hedges. Head first. Sanity prevailed however. "Elizabeth, may I present my brother Robert, a young man not noted for his tact or timing. Robert, this is Miss Elizabeth Matthews… my fiancée."

  "Pleased to meet-" Robert's words ended as if they'd been sliced off with a knife. His brows shot upward. "Did you say fiancée? As in betrothed? As in marriage?"