Bleakly she said, "I cannot disagree with what you say. My family appears to be elated with the match, and I would do much to please them." She shot him an unfriendly glance. "Even marry you."
"As long as you marry me," Patrick muttered, ashamed of the exultation that flooded him. She would be his wife, and he would woo her and seduce and demand that she love him. And when her heart was won, why then, he would lay his own at her feet. Full of anticipation of the battle he would wage to win her love, he swept her against him and his mouth caught hers. He kissed her with all the hunger he had kept at bay, with all the longing that was within him.
Thea stiffened in his embrace. She was in no mood to be wooed, certainly not for dalliance, but her body, her heart, had other ideas. As his arms tightened and his kiss deepened, desire stirred and sprang to life within her, and all thought of resisting him fled. She loved him—wretch that he was! With a half sigh, half sob, she flung her arms around his neck and pressed ardently against him, returning his kiss.
She was sweet and yielding, her lips soft and willing, her taste intoxicating, and Patrick took all that was offered. Like potent wine she went to his head, his breathing becoming ragged and the ache between his legs suddenly unbearable.
Heedless of the swaying coach, of its approach to the house, Patrick kissed her with growing passion, his rigid member pressing insistently against her buttocks, the soft swell of her bosom burning into his chest. He had to touch her. Had to.
His hand grazed her breast, cupping it gently before continuing its downward journey. The folds of her silk skirts impeded him slightly, and he groaned when his hand finally slipped beneath the fabric and met the bare flesh of her leg.
Giddy and dazed, Thea clung to him, the sensation of his warm hand caressing her leg sending delicious thrills through her. When he clasped her thigh and kneaded its gentle contours, she gave an incoherent exclamation. Nothing had ever felt this way. Nothing. She ached everywhere. She wanted him to touch her everywhere. Most of all, she ached and yearned for him to continue his explorations.
When he did, when his seeking fingers finally touched the thatch at the junction of her thighs, a shudder tore through her. Beset by unfamiliar emotions, Thea squirmed on his lap, the sensation of his swollen shaft rubbing against her bottom adding to the tumult inside of her.
"Your legs, sweetheart, part them, let me touch you," Patrick murmured against her mouth, urging her backward.
Drunk with sensation, Thea obeyed. How could she not? Every nerve and sinew in her slender body wanted this magic to continue. Her mind and body were united in one long yearning ache, but Patrick's touch, as he parted and petted the delicate flesh hidden by the thick curls, only made the ache worse, and she shuddered again. He was driving her mad, she thought dizzily, panting and twisting under his exploration. One of his fingers slipped inside of her, and she almost screamed with delight. The most primitive, demanding feelings rose up within her, shaking her, making her aware of the naked hunger that coursed through her body.
She wanted him. Trembling and uncertain, she kissed him repeatedly, her fingers clenching and unclenching in his thick, dark hair, her body inviting his caresses.
No less a prisoner of his emotions than Thea, Patrick groaned at her provocative actions. He wanted nothing more than to join them together, to unleash the passion that clawed through him, but he was painfully aware that there was no time. Oh, but there was time, a part of his brain conceded, for him...
He almost did it. Almost pushed Thea down onto the seat, almost freed himself and sought relief between her soft thighs. But he did not. There was a part of him, the sane part, that did not want their first joining to be a tawdry affair swiftly done on the seat of a coach. No, not only did he not want their first time together to be in these circumstances, he wanted time, time in which to give her pleasure, time in which to teach her the joys that could be shared by a man and a woman.
That thought had hardly crossed his mind when the carriage slowed to a stop. Swallowing back an urge to howl in frustration, Patrick regretfully removed his hand from beneath Thea's skirts and set her upright on the seat across from him.
"I am afraid," he muttered, "that we shall have to postpone our mutual pleasure for another time. You are home."
Thea stared blankly at him. Her body still on fire, the desire he provoked still dominating her every thought, it took a moment for reality to return, and as it did, shame and mortification flooded her.
Suddenly frantic to escape him, before Patrick could divine her actions, she dived for the door of the coach and wrenching it open, sprang down from the coach. When Patrick would have followed her, she held up one hand.
"Don't," she said in a shaken voice. "I do not want your company. Leave me alone."
His lips tightened. "That is going to be rather difficult don't you think, since we are engaged to be married."
Thea bit back a sob, overwhelmed by the situation. "Leave me alone," she repeated. Picking up her burgundy skirts, she flew up the steps and disappeared inside.
Cursing, Patrick sank back down onto the coach seat. Opening the divider between the interior and the coachman, he growled, "To White's."
Let down near the entrance to the club, Patrick walked up the steps and entered. He had been a member of White's since his father had put his name up for admission in what seemed a lifetime ago. Since the evening was still early by the standards of him and his friends, Patrick wasn't surprised to find Lord Embry, Adam Paxton, and a half dozen or so other acquaintances gathered around one of the tables gaming.
He watched the play for several minutes before catching Lord Embry's eye. Motioning his need for private conversation, he waited until Embry could excuse himself. Paxton caught the exchange and lifted his brow. Patrick made a face. A moment later, Paxton, too, threw down his cards and left the table.
Flanked by his two friends, Patrick headed for a quiet corner. When the three friends were seated and had been served glasses of port by a servant in black knee breeches, Patrick said, "I have an announcement to make. Once I have made it, I intend to get very drunk. Are you with me?"
"Why, I should be delighted to get drunk with you," Nigel replied. "I have not been thoroughly foxed for at least three days."
Adam smiled and lifted his glass in Patrick's direction. "It sounds like a pleasant way to pass the evening."
Patrick took a long swallow of his port. Looking at his friends' expectant faces, he said, "I want you to be among the first to know—I'm going to be married—soon. The notice will be in the Times tomorrow morning. The wedding will be Saturday afternoon—at m'mother's." A smile crossed his face at the stunned expressions of Embry and Paxton. "You'll be pleased to know that my bride-to-be is Thea Garrett." At Nigel's gasp and Paxton's pop-eyed stare, Patrick grinned.
When Paxton and Embry continued to stare at him as if he had sprouted horns and snorted fire, he murmured, "Congratulations are in order, you know."
"By Jove!" Nigel sputtered. "Have you gone mad? I warned you about her. Didn't you listen to a word I said?"
His expression warning his two friends to tread with care, Patrick said, "You would do well to remember, my friend, you are talking about the lady I intend to marry... need I say more?"
Nigel blanched. Nigel considered himself a brave soul, but it would take a braver soul than he to leave himself open to the prospect of facing Patrick on the dueling field. Patrick's skill with both pistol and sword was very well known.
Paxton cleared his throat. "Ah... how did this come about? I don't recall that you were, er, courting the lady."
Patrick smiled and sipped his port. "I have been, believe me. And I shall be the first to admit that my, uh, courtship has been most unusual. But the lady is won, and I intend to marry her."
Nigel's gaze sharpened. "You're in love with the chit!"
"I fear so," Patrick replied, with a twinkle in his gray eyes.
"It's a love match?" Paxton asked, not quite ready to believe what h
e had just heard.
Patrick nodded. "Very much so." He grimaced. "Although, at the moment, the lady would probably prefer to bury me than to marry me."
"Aha!" exclaimed Nigel. "I warned you." At the look Patrick sent him, he clapped his mouth shut.
"Marriage on Saturday, eh?" Paxton inquired. At Patrick's nod, he added, "Then I suggest that we find someplace less respectable where we can become disgustingly drunk."
"My thoughts precisely," Patrick replied.
* * *
While Patrick and his cronies were at White's, Thea was in her bedchamber, being helped to undress by Maggie. Thea didn't really need any help, but Maggie would have been offended if she had spurned her services, and so she endured having Maggie do things for her that she could have done very easily herself.
Maggie noticed that Thea's features looked strained and that her mistress was unusually silent. When Thea was finally wearing a fine lawn nightgown and settled amidst a pile of pillows on the bed, Maggie hesitated to leave her.
Standing beside the bed, she asked, "Is there anything else I can get you, miss? Perhaps a hot drink?"
Thea shook her head. "No thank you, Maggie. I am fine. Go to bed."
Maggie hesitated, and Thea waved a hand at her. "Go."
After Maggie had left the room, Thea sat in her bed, wondering at the whims of fate. In the terrible aftermath following Hawley's and Tom's deaths, she had been certain that she would never love again. She had sworn during those anguish-filled days that she would never trust a silver-tongued devil again. Knowing that she was utterly ruined and that the world knew it, too, she had resigned herself to never marrying. Certainly she had never thought that a suitable gentleman would ever want to marry her. She sighed. At the moment, she couldn't say that Patrick wanted to marry her—a twisted need to pay her back for refusing to become his mistress might be driving him.
Her thinking was not as convoluted as it appeared—there were men, and she had known several, who went to incredible lengths to avenge themselves of even the tiniest slight. It was not impossible that Patrick was of that ilk.
She frowned. He had never shown any sign of being petty-minded, but then one never knew. Certainly, she did not know him well. She sighed again, her expression morose. No, she did not know him well, but what she did know she found very, very appealing and attractive.
She was aware of Modesty's arrival home, having heard several minutes earlier the faint sounds of the door to Modesty's rooms opening and shutting. As the evening at the Caldecotts had drawn to a close, Thea learned that it had been arranged for Lord and Lady Garrett to bring Modesty home in their coach. Since it was unlikely that Modesty would not want to talk about the night's events, Thea braced herself for a visit.
She didn't have long to wait. A soft rap on the door came next, and wearing a sumptuous amber dressing gown of silk and lace to cover her nightgown, Modesty stepped into Thea's bedchamber.
Shutting the door behind her, Modesty crossed the room and, settling on the edge of the bed, said, "I was hoping that you had not yet gone to sleep. I was quite delighted when I saw the light coming from beneath the door of your room." Picking up Thea's hand, she clasped it lightly. "Well, chicken," she said with a smile, "it was certainly an eventful evening, wasn't it?"
Thea smiled wanly. "Indeed it was." She sent a look of inquiry to Modesty. "Were you as bowled over as I was?"
Modesty glanced down at her lap. "Not exactly," she admitted. "It has been obvious, to me at least, that Mr. Blackburne was quite taken with you."
Thea sighed. "He wanted me for his mistress, Modesty, not his wife."
"If that was the case, then what was tonight all about?"
Thea made a face. "I don't know. I only know that when Lady Caldecott made her announcement, I was stunned. Marriage had never been even mentioned between Patrick and me." A flicker of suspicion in her gaze, she demanded, "Did you know about it? And my uncles? Did everyone but me know what was planned?"
Modesty appeared astounded. "Thea! How could you think such a thing? Do you think I, er, we would sink to such depths... that your family would coerce you into marrying someone you didn't want to? I must confess that I find this conversation most disturbing. Are you telling me that you don't wish to marry Mr. Blackburne?"
"N-N-No," Thea confessed, "not exactly."
"Then what?" demanded Modesty. "Aren't you the young woman who only days ago admitted to me that you loved him? Have your feelings changed?"
Thea shook her head, looking confused and miserable. "I do love him. I just do not understand how one minute he is willing for me to become his mistress and the next, without so much as a by-your-leave, he has it announced that we are to be married on Saturday! Without causing a terrible scandal, I have no choice but to marry him." Uncertainly she began, "You don't suppose that he could be thumbing his nose at society or trying to get back at me for refusing to become his mistress?"
Modesty's brows flew up. "Of all the ridiculous ideas I have ever heard! A gentleman of Mr. Blackburne's stature would not stoop so low. Besides, doesn't it seem a rather, ah, desperate step to take, for such a slight?"
"I suppose you are right," Thea admitted. "But you must agree that it was the most underhanded thing of him to have his mother make that announcement this evening without even asking me whether I wanted to marry him or not! That was arrogant and unprincipled."
Her cheeks suddenly blooming with color, Modesty said, "Er, perhaps, he didn't dare take a chance that you would be high-minded and refuse him." Hastily she added, "Refuse him for all the wrong reasons, of course. He may have thought that giving you no other choice was the only way he could bring about your marriage."
Puzzled, Thea looked at Modesty. "And you think it is honorable, what he did?"
Modesty cleared her throat, looking decidedly ill at ease. "I wouldn't call it, er, honorable, but it was not dishonorable after all." She brightened. "You might say that it was expeditious!"
"It was certainly that," Thea said dryly.
Modesty patted her hand. "Don't brood over it, dear. Just think, on Saturday afternoon you are going to marry one of the most eligible gentlemen in London. We have much to arrange and plan for before then." Modesty put a finger to her lip. "A wedding gown must be procured. We shall have to prevail upon our favorite dressmaker to put aside all her other patrons' demands for a few days." She beamed at Thea. "Oh, isn't it exciting? You are going to be married!"
Despite her gloomy state and her mistrust of Patrick's motives, some of Modesty's enthusiasm rubbed off on Thea. A queer little spark of excitement billowed in her chest. She was going to be married! To Patrick Blackburne! There were, she admitted with a dreamy smile as she remembered his flashing smile and those moments in the coach, a few advantages to such a match.
Thea woke the next morning to discover that nearly everyone in the polite world had read the announcement of her impending nuptials and had come to call. She and Modesty barely finished their breakfast and settled in the morning room to discuss plans before callers began to arrive. To her astonishment, Thea found herself basking in the approval of some of the most powerful leaders of society. She was fawned upon and petted and exclaimed over and viewed her sudden, exalted position with wide-eyed bewilderment. The early callers ranged from a genuine friend such as Lady Roland, thrilled by the news, to members of her own family such as Lord and Lady Garrett, Lord Hazlett, and her favorite cousin, his son, John. Thea had little doubt that the family was here as a sign of solidarity, signaling to the world that they did not think the haste and circumstances of her imminent marriage the least peculiar. A lump formed in Thea's throat, and she vowed that her reckless days were over—she would never embarrass or shame them again.
The fact that polite society had forgiven all was apparent when Lady Jersey, the Prince of Wales's current mistress and one of the patronesses of Almack's, swam into the room. Sitting down on the sofa beside Thea, Lady Jersey purred, "Dear, dear Thea, how wonderful for you! I was
elated when I read the announcement this morning. It is a shame that charming rascal Patrick is determined to wrest you away from us so soon and not even allow you time to plan a proper wedding. Oh, but it is so very romantic, don't you think?"
Thea nodded, flashing an amused glance to Lisbeth, who sat across from them in the crowded morning room. In addition to the early arrivals, the room was now filled with dozens of fluttering women, from dashing fashionable matrons to simpering young ladies—their formidable mothers in tow. Even Patrick's friends Lord Embry and Adam Paxton had come to offer their congratulations. From the wince Nigel gave when one of the young ladies laughed in his vicinity and the green cast to Paxton's face, Thea suspected that they, and her betrothed, had spent the previous evening becoming thoroughly foxed. She hoped Patrick was suffering dreadfully.
Tillman, and a hastily-pressed-into-service footman, were gliding about with trays of refreshments, performing just as if this were a normal occurrence. The superior expression on her butler's face told Thea that he was enjoying himself.
Sipping a cup of coffee, Thea cast a bemused glance about the room, not quite able to believe that she was the cause of all this beaming goodwill. Of course she was smart enough to realize that it was who she was going to marry that aroused all the curiosity and excitement—and the fact that her betrothed was the son of one of the bulwarks of society, Lady Caldecott.
Watching the reactions of the company when Lady Caldecott arrived a half hour later, Thea hid a smile. Sweeping grandly into the room, her fashionable blue gown fluttering around her ankles, Lady Caldecott smiled with satisfaction at the crowd before her. With all the haughty charm of a sovereign greeting her subjects, she nodded to this one and that as she made her way to Thea's side. Pressing a warm kiss onto Thea's cheek, she murmured, "My dear child! How are you bearing up under all this scrutiny?"
Thea grinned. "It is the most amazing thing! They all seem to like me."
Lady Caldecott chuckled and, glancing around, said softly, "And they are prudent to do so—otherwise they will have to deal with me."
Swear by Moonlight Page 19
