Lord Ravenscar's Inconvenient Betrothal

by Lara Temple

  ‘There’s no going back now.’ His voice was rough against her, impatient and demanding like the hands that brought her against him. She didn’t argue, just slid her arms around his neck and let herself go, raising her head and pressing her lips to the warmth of his neck, desperate to feel him, recapture his scent.

  A groan ripped through him as she nuzzled the soft skin below his ear, his arms painful around her, but she didn’t care, she pressed as close as she could, her hands teasing his hair, loving how she felt against him, how her whole body was lighting, filling, becoming alive, waiting for his touch.

  ‘God, Lily, I want to take you here, with your hair spread like a sunset on the grass. I can’t stand much more of this. Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?’

  She couldn’t have answered even if his mouth hadn’t finally caught hers, kissing her hard and deep, demanding a response. He held her, his fingers deep in her hair, gliding against her scalp, shaping the sensitive curve of her ears, sinking lower over her shoulders and down her back, curving under her behind, sliding the soft muslins against her skin as though he could rub them off like moisture with a towel, baring her against the silvery bark and the grey-tinged leaves.

  He found and lit bursts of pleasure in places she had never associated with sensation, let alone this restless-seeking joy. Somehow he knew and would linger there until she was shaking, trying not to shatter. Her hands and mouth were trying to do the same to him by their own volition, seeking and touching as he did, shivering as he groaned when her fingers stroked down the ridged muscles of his back beneath his coat. His hands tightened on her behind, pulling her hard against his arousal as he bent his head and nipped the sensitised flesh of her neck.

  ‘We have to stop. Any more and I’ll take you right here.’

  ‘Yes...’ He stifled her moaned invitation with his mouth, but his words were as damaging as his hands, filling her mind with the promise of what was to come. They flowed against the skin as he kissed her, his mouth moving down her neck, tasting the slope of her shoulder, the rise of her breast.

  ‘No. When I show you what you are capable of, I want you where no one will interrupt us. Where I can lay you bare and kiss you inch by inch, from your ankles, the soft skin on the back of your knees, over every soft slide of your thighs. I want to spend an hour on your amazing behind...’ he spread his hands over it, kneading and raising her against his erection, his hands contracting as she shuddered in response ‘...then I will turn you over and kiss this soft skin right here...’ he arched her back to trace the slide of her abdomen, from her ribs to her navel and down ‘...until I come home, right here, where you’re waiting for me...’

  His fingers curved down, skimming but not settling there. She didn’t even realise what she was about to do until she felt her hand on his, pressing him against her. Her eyes rose to his, shocked at her audacity, meeting the silvered storm in his.

  ‘That’s right, Lily. Take what you want... Don’t be afraid.’

  She wasn’t afraid, she was terrified. The exhilarating terror of clinging to a ship’s mast in a storm, watching the waves gather for the next pummelling. Any second now she would shatter into nothingness.

  With a cry she pushed his hand away and instantly his hold stilled, softened. They stood for a moment longer in the cage of willows, the quacking of the ducks as they flapped their wings on the lake a reminder of where they were. Eventually Alan stood back, resting his hand on a willow branch and looking out over the lake, his eyes retaining the shimmer of light reflecting off the water.

  He didn’t stop her when she left, but she was weak enough to wish he would.

  Chapter Twelve

  ‘What is wrong with the boy? How on earth are people to give any credence to a courtship between you if he won’t show his face?’

  ‘He is very busy, Grandmama...’ Catherine said.

  ‘Busy doing what, precisely?’

  Catherine’s eyes dropped before Lady Ravenscar’s and Lily couldn’t determine if Catherine didn’t know or didn’t want to tell. Either case wasn’t reassuring.

  ‘It has been two days since your return and you have not seen him for more than five minutes if that, have you, Lily?’

  The interlude by the lake had been a little more than five minutes, but after that...

  What had she expected? That he would dance attendance on her and woo her? The man felt he must wed her and he clearly wanted to bed her, but he had his own life and he meant to keep it that way. This was a fine introduction to the life she would lead if she wed him. She would have all the freedom she wanted, but very little else. She should be grateful that he was making her choice so very clear, but she could no more stop the hurt and the yearning that hummed inside her than she could stop her heart from beating or blood from flowing.

  ‘Who precisely are you accusing, Lady Belle?’ Lily asked. ‘Lord Ravenscar or myself? Or both?’

  She was saved from Lady Ravenscar’s response by Partridge’s appearance.

  ‘What is it, Partridge?’

  ‘Mr Marston, my lady. For Miss Wallace.’

  ‘Hmmm...bring him in, Partridge.’

  Lily stood.

  ‘No, please, Partridge. Could you show him to the library?’

  After a pause, Lady Ravenscar nodded and Partridge departed.

  ‘It is hardly proper for you to meet with Mr Marston in a tête-à-tête, Lily. Especially under the circumstances.’

  ‘We had not reached any formal agreement, but I owe Mr Marston the courtesy of explaining matters myself and in private, Lady Belle. Please respect my wishes on this.’

  ‘Oh, very well. Ten minutes. Thorns are best withdrawn swiftly and decisively, Lily Wallace.’

  ‘I will ignore being compared to a thorn in the flesh, Lady Belle, but I agree in principle.’

  * * *

  Philip Marston turned from his contemplation of the garden and smiled as she entered. He was a good-looking man, with light brown hair and blue eyes and a bearing that spoke of a man used to command, but he looked different than when she had last seen him, less imposing, which made little sense. Lily hoped the answering smile on her face didn’t look like a grimace or reflect anything of her inner turmoil.

  ‘Miss Wallace. You look radiant. Clearly time away from me agrees with you.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Marston, pray sit down. I trust your daughter is well?’

  His light brows twitched closer, but his smile held and he sat on the green-striped chair opposite her.

  ‘Very well and very excited about meeting you.’

  Oh, no.

  ‘She wanted to accompany me today, but she is still a little fatigued after the trip. You look a little pale, Miss Wallace... Lily. Have you been unwell? I have heard there have been quite a few cases of this fever in the environs.’

  She was tempted to fall back on this excuse; guilt was rumbling inside her like a poorly digested meal.

  ‘Not unwell, Mr Marston. It is a little more complicated than that. There is something I must tell you and I ask that you wait until I conclude my tale before you comment. Please.’

  She didn’t wait for his permission. She wished she was wearing gloves so she would have something to do with her fingers. Instead she held her hands tightly together and told him as much as she dared about her escape to Hollywell and forced proximity with Alan, stopping short of admitting to any intimacies between them.

  ‘I know we had never reached a formal agreement, Mr Marston, but that there was also an understanding between us to consider a...closer relationship and so I felt it only right to explain to you as openly as I can why that is no longer possible and to express my regrets that I should have caused you any distress or embarrassment.’

  ‘Why is it no longer possible?’

  The question was so calm it took her a moment to understand it.

&
nbsp; ‘I... Because... I explained what happened.’

  ‘So you did. It was unfortunate and perhaps you will later explain to me in greater detail precisely why you felt the need to arrange this solitary retreat to Hollywell House. However, if I understood you correctly, at the moment the only people who know you were alone with Ravenscar are his immediate family, his groom who drove the carriage over and possibly Lady Ravenscar’s butler.’

  ‘Probably. The man who brought the horse handed him the note I secured in the saddle. Apparently it was smudged, but he has seen at least some instances of my handwriting when I posted letters to my lawyers over the past weeks.’

  ‘I see. That was two days ago?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Have you heard of any gossip regarding your escapade as yet?’

  ‘No, but...’

  ‘Well, then, you might be luckier than you deserve and this shall remain the domain of a very few.’

  ‘Mr Marston...’

  ‘Philip. I believe we can dispense with formalities, Lily. We have known each other long enough, surely.’

  ‘Philip, then. You do realise what I am saying—for almost two days and two nights I was alone, unchaperoned, with a man. If this were to be known, I would be beyond the pale. No man of breeding could consider marrying me.’

  ‘My life is peppered with “ifs”, Lily. My business prospers because of them. You have been a very definite “if” from the day I met you at your father’s house six years ago. I think I am capable of encompassing one more, within reason. All I am saying at the moment is that we not hurry into decisions we might regret. I admit to being surprised. I briefly saw Ravenscar earlier today on some mutual business of ours and he gave me no intimation whatsoever of any of this, but then he was always a cautious fellow.’

  Alan? Cautious?

  ‘He did mention you owned a mill together,’ she prompted, hating her curiosity.

  ‘A little more than that. My strength is in shipping, but it exposes me to all forms of merchandise. When I see extraordinary demand for particular products, naturally I become curious and sometimes I dabble in new ideas. Several years ago I became interested in the new power looms being built and sold to cotton mills and that is how I became acquainted with Lord Ravenscar. We share a strong interest in the new machinery and its effect on the costs of production. And apparently now in you, of course.’ He smiled politely and for the first time she saw the steel under the calm urbanity.

  ‘I see.’

  ‘Do you? I have the advantage of knowing both you and Ravenscar for quite a few years, certainly longer than your brief acquaintance with each other. Perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised that when someone did finally breach your carefully constructed walls it would be someone not dissimilar from your father.’

  Lily opened her mouth to speak, but he raised his hand.

  ‘Allow me to finish, Lily. Then you may correct me if I am wrong. When I came to your father’s house six years ago, I admit I was fascinated with the workings of your mind. Your father and I both had the cross to bear that our wives bore us only a daughter, but I remember thinking, if Penny could grow up to be as poised and intelligent as you, I would not be disappointed. Had you been a man you could have run your father’s businesses as well as he, that was clear. But despite your intelligence there was something walled-off about you. During my visits to Kingston over the years, I watched different men react differently to your defences—some stormed the battlements and were predictably repelled and some admitted defeat before firing the first shot. Since my Joanne was alive at the time, none of this was of any significance, but I admit as I came out of mourning and realised that I yet could have the chance at a male heir for my legacy, it was not long before I thought of you. There are only twelve years between us, which is hardly an insuperable divide. Unlike most young women, you have a keen understanding of my world and, despite your superior lineage, I do not believe you find my more humble origins despicable. When I discovered the unfortunate nature of your father’s will, it became clear to me that here was a golden opportunity for both of us and so I approached you. Everything we discussed that day in Kingston is still applicable. You wish to have a family and some financial freedom and I would like a male heir, most preferably an intelligent one who would one day be able to assume my responsibilities. I believe given our joint cerebral gifts any child we bear is most likely to fulfil my highest expectations. It is as simple as that.’

  She should probably say something, but nothing came and Philip Marston continued.

  ‘I am not surprised that Ravenscar has the power to fascinate someone like you, Lily, so you needn’t feel guilty about some natural confusion. I was very fond of your father—he was a charming, intelligent and generous man and he loved you dearly, but he had a fateful need to see himself reflected in those around him, especially women. I broach this subject because it was evident you were fully aware of his weakness. I am not implying that Ravenscar is a mirror image of your father, there are distinct differences, but there are also distinct similarities. He is a man who was rejected by his family, rebuilt himself on his own terms and is, in vulgar parlance, a rake and very used to going his own way. From the little you disclosed about your mother I could tell that aside from your love for her there was also contempt for her willingness to accept half a loaf and sometimes less. I suggest you think well and long before you allow yourself to be forced into a similar alliance without even the love your parents did share and your mother’s significantly more accepting nature. You deserve better.’

  Her fingers were plucking at the tiny pearls nestled in the hearts of the flowers embroidered on her skirts. She stilled them, but that was worse because they were clearly shaking. Had he stepped inside her head and found that list of fears and objections prepared by her inner lawyer? She didn’t know if she deserved better, but she wanted more. From Alan. But Mr Marston...Philip...was right. At least her mother had accepted her father’s limitations and learned to live inside their boundaries. She could never be her mother. She would never accept Alan’s infidelities and his unwillingness to give her the family for which she yearned.

  ‘What shall I do?’ Her voice shook and his hand settled on hers, trapping her fingers against her thighs like a glass placed over bees. She wanted to fling his hand away, but she kept still. If he told her she should go ahead and marry him, she would scream.

  ‘Wait. For the moment. Most likely the threat of exposure will clear like the skies cleared after the storm. Believe me, as a father to a young woman about to take her first steps into society I am well aware of what is at stake for you, but unless fate forces your hand, this is not a decision to be made without careful consideration of the consequences. So my advice is—wait...’

  ‘Wait for what?’

  Lord Ravenscar stood with his hand still on the knob, surveying them from the doorway. By the cold lack of surprise on his face she supposed either Partridge or Lady Belle had told him where and with whom she was ensconced. It was fitting that after disappearing for almost two days he appeared at the worst possible moment.

  ‘Wait for what, Lily?’ he asked again, his gaze moving from the light flush in Marston’s cheeks to her as he approached.

  ‘Mr Marston was suggesting, quite sensibly, that I wait before I make any firm decision regarding my future.’

  His gaze locked with hers.

  ‘I was under the impression a decision had already been made. A very firm decision.’

  ‘As long as no formal announcement has been made, I believe Miss Wallace should be allowed to consider what is best for her future.’

  ‘For your future more like, Marston. Stay out of this. You don’t know the particulars.’

  ‘On the contrary, Miss Wallace has been very honest regarding the events of the past few days.’

  Lily didn’t try to hide from the grey ice in Alan’s eyes as she waited
for the axe to fall. It would almost be a relief if Alan told Philip everything that had happened between them. It would condemn her and remove the choice from her hands—no man would accept a woman who had all but thrown herself into the arms of another, whether she remained a virgin after the encounter or not.

  ‘Have you, Lily? Honest to a fault, are we?’ Lily’s eyes fell, more disappointed than relieved by his restraint. He didn’t wait for her to answer. ‘It changes nothing. Whatever the circumstances, I was alone with Miss Wallace for two whole days in an empty house and we are now to be married. If you had really wanted her, Marston, you would have pushed your advantage before you went off on business.’

  Marston’s mouth quirked in a smile, not entirely of amusement.

  ‘Can you really hold it against me that I didn’t foresee this particular development? I would have thought you would be grateful to be extricated from an alliance that must at least in part put an end to your free and easy lifestyle, Ravenscar. Unlike you, both Miss Wallace and I most avidly want children. I don’t believe I could begin to recall the number of times you told me you have no intention of marrying or having children. I believe the phrase you used was “when hell freezes over”. Yet here I am, offering to relieve both of you from an embarrassing situation, and you are baulking. So while I respect your sense of honour, it must be pure stubbornness that would make you stand in the way of what is a perfect solution for all those involved.’

  Tension hummed in the space sketched between them. Lily knew Philip’s suggestion had merit, but more than anything she wanted Alan to smash it as conclusively as he had felled Jackson, as inescapably as he had captured her. But Alan’s voice remained as cool as spring water when he answered.

  ‘I think this is a discussion Lily and I should be having alone.’

  Marston half-bowed and took Lily’s hand, smiling down at her.

  ‘Of course. I must return to Bristol anyway. I came with the hope of inviting you to a concert being held at the New Music Room on Prince’s Street tomorrow afternoon. A very fine Italian soprano, I am told. I thought it would be a lovely opportunity for you to meet my Penny.’