“Mrs. Jones,” he called out loudly to the housekeeper. “I need you in the parlor, posthaste.”
It only took another minute before the middle-aged servant came bustling in. When she looked at Priscilla’s colorless face, the woman gasped.
“Oh, dear.” She hurried over to Priscilla.
“She swooned. Fetch some smelling salts.”
“Of course, Your Grace.”
During the housekeeper’s absence, he patted Priscilla’s hands and stroked her cheek. “Cilla, can you hear me? Open your eyes and look at me.”
Mrs. Jones hurried back in with the smelling salts and waved them under Priscilla’s nose. Within moments, she stirred and opened her eyes. Gavin sighed and nodded at the housekeeper.
Groaning, Priscilla placed a hand on her forehead. “What happened?”
“You swooned.”
She narrowed her gaze on him. “Swooned? I never swoon, Your Grace.”
“Well, whatever you call it, you lost consciousness and I caught you.”
He looked up at the housekeeper. “That will be all for now, Mrs. Jones.”
She curtsied and walked out of the room. He turned back to Priscilla and sat beside her on the settee, slipping an arm around her shoulders.
“Are you feeling better now?”
“I... don’t know.” She rubbed her temples. “I fear my mind is still swirling, and voices are still ringing in my ears. By chance, did you propose to me, or was I dreaming it?”
“Forgive me for not being more romantic about it, but yes—”
“Romantic?” Her voice lifted as she moved off the settee. She swayed, but quickly righted herself. “I don’t know what you were thinking, Your Grace, but there is no need to offer me marriage.”
Gavin grumbled under his breath. He worried this would happen. “You don’t understand, Cilla. We were alone in the cottage for several hours. Although nothing really happened between us, the fact still remains that my grandmother’s staff knows we were together. That’s how rumors get started, and then soon both of us will be in the middle of a scandal.” He sighed. “The only way to prevent that and so save our families from the embarrassment of a scandal is to marry.”
Her eyes teared up again, but it was entirely different than before. This time she wore a scowl.
“But... we did nothing,” she whispered.
The urge to tell her about the passionate kiss was on the verge of spilling from his mouth, but he couldn’t do that. Not yet. “What matters is that we were alone together, and... I was undressed and wrapped in a blanket for at least one hour of that time.”
He stood and reached for her, but she pulled away, shaking her head.
“Cilla, my grandmother believes it’s the best for both of us and our families, if we marry.”
“Your grandmother doesn’t want a companion who has a tarnished reputation, is that it?” Her voice broke.
“Don’t do this to yourself. It’s not like that, I assure you.”
She threw him a glare. “Don’t presume to know how I’m feeling, because you don’t... and you never will.”
As she stormed out of the room, irritation grew inside him. Obviously, she was still in shock and not thinking clearly. Perhaps it was time to get his grandmother involved. But in a split second, he realized he didn’t need his grandmother fixing his problems.
Gritting his teeth, he took long strides, heading after Priscilla. She was already halfway up the stairs. He didn’t care if she was going to her bedchamber or not. He was going to get this issue straightened out tonight whether she liked it or not!
She must have heard him coming, because she quickened her pace. That only frustrated him more, and he moved faster. By the time she reached her room, he was upon her and was able to stop the door from being slammed in his face.
Her face was red with anger as she looked at him. “Get out of my room!”
“To be precise,” he said, trying to sound in control, “this is now my property, so the room doesn’t really belong to you.”
She growled and reached for the small pillow on the loveseat. “I mean it. Get out or... or...” She threw the pillow at him.
He chuckled, catching the pillow. She certainly didn’t have a strong arm when it came to throwing. “My sweet, Cilla. You’re making a bigger scene than is necessary.”
“A scene?” Her voice rose higher. “You haven’t seen me making a scene, yet. But I’ll show you one, Your Grace.”
She turned, searching for something else to throw at him, he was certain. But he wasn’t about to let her. He strode to her and grasped her shoulders, swinging her around to face him.
“Let me make a couple of things clear.” He tried not to let his temper get the best of him. “Firstly, I’m tired of asking you to call me by my name, so please don’t make me repeat myself again.” He inhaled deeply. “And secondly, I am not going to put up with these tantrums of yours after we are married.”
“Augh,” she cried out raising her hand to strike his face, but he caught it before it could hit its target. He held both of her wrists as he placed her arms behind her. He backed her against the wall so that she couldn’t move.
Her breathing was heavy, and the look in her cobalt eyes was fierce, but he couldn’t deny she was still a very beautiful woman. Passion poured out of her whether she was angry or kissing him.
They stared at each other for several moments. Seconds turned into minutes, until he couldn’t remember what they were arguing about. Instead, his mind filled with the wonderful moments of them kissing at the cottage. She hadn’t remembered everything, but he certainly was going to make her remember. Right here. Right now.
“One last thing,” he said in a calmer voice. “I want you to know that something did happen in the cottage.” His gaze dropped to her parted lips. “We kissed, and it was the most magical moment of my life.”
Before she could argue, he pressed his lips against hers. He kept the kiss gentle, hoping that would spark her memory. She struggled, but within seconds, her body relaxed, and she was kissing him back as she’d done at the cottage.
He sighed heavily and released her wrists so that he could take her in his embrace more comfortably. Slowly, her palms slid up his arms and hooked around his neck. Her fingers teased the hair at his nape. Warmth spread through him quickly, and he shivered with pleasure.
He deepened the kiss and her response was just as magical now as it had been at the cottage. A throaty moan escaped from her as she clutched his shoulders, meeting his demanding kiss. Never, had he felt such excitement flowing through him as when he kissed this incredibly passionate woman.
Then he realized that if their time at the cottage hadn’t started a rumor, what they were doing now would certainly do the trick. However, now it didn’t matter. He was going to marry this woman no matter how much she protested, because he knew now that she didn’t loathe his presence, and especially not his kiss.
PRISCILLA SIGHED WITH pleasure, loving the way their quarrel had turned out. He’d given her no time to let the truth sink in her head – that they’d actually kissed while in the cottage. It was not a dream at all. No wonder she couldn’t get the image out of her head and the feelings from taking over her senses. Which explained, of course, why she didn’t want to stop now.
Heavens, he was a good kisser. He was so very gentle with her, and she liked that most of all. Would he be this passionate after they were married?
Marriage!
At the very thought of marrying a rogue, her mind snapped her out of the dream he’d put her under again, and back to reality. Were they really going to get married? And... why was she so confused right now?
“Gavin,” she broke the kiss by turning her head, but he continued to kiss her as his mouth trailed down her neck. Goosebumps rose all over her, but in a delightful way.
“Yes, my sweet,” he muttered against her throat.
“We really must... stop.” Why was she still so breathless?
�
�Indeed, we must.”
As she waited for him to stop, she continued to enjoy the heat rushing over her, and the way her heart softened because of his gentle manner. Even though he wasn’t very gentle when he pushed her up against the wall. And yet, even that was quite exciting, although she’d been extremely upset with him.
She held in another moan of pleasure. “Gavin, we need... to talk.”
When he raised his head and looked at her, his hands cupped both sides of her head. The intense look of passion in his eyes made her insides quiver.
“We really do. However,” he caressed his thumbs over her cheeks, “I rather like the activity while not talking, which we’ve been doing.”
He pressed his mouth against her lips again, and she sighed deeply. Oh, this man! He’d be the death of her, she was certain.
She reached up to remove his hands from her face, but all he did was link his fingers with hers and then lift their hands together above her head and rest them against the wall. His body pressed closer to hers. But as the kiss grew more urgent, his palms slid down her arms, slowly. This particular rogue knew how to control a woman’s body and mind as he kissed her deeply. She was putty in his hands.
Suddenly, a knock on the door snatched her right out of her dream, once again. He turned his head toward the door. The spell was broken, and for some reason, it made her sad.
“Your Grace?” Mrs. Jones’ hesitant voice came from the other side of the door. “Your Grandmother wishes your presence in the sitting room immediately.”
He released a defeated sigh. “Tell her I’ll be there momentarily.”
His voice was husky, clearly affected by the passion they’d shared. Priscilla tried not to grin.
“As you wish, Your Grace.”
When he looked back at Priscilla, he smiled while his hand stroked her neck. “As much as I’d love nothing more than to stay right here and kiss your sweet lips – and other things – for the rest of the day, I’m afraid my duty as grandson must come first.”
She couldn’t stop the blush from covering her face. He had a way with words, and the pitter-patter of her heartbeat hadn’t slowed down since he’d first entered her room. “I understand.”
She loved the way his gaze held hers and she could see the intense emotions inside him. Surprisingly, they matched the way she felt, too.
“Try not to miss me,” he said with a chuckle to his voice.
“Oh, I think it’s you who will miss me more.” After she’d said it, she wondered why she was flirting with him. Wasn’t she supposed to be upset? Perhaps her body needed to cool down in order for her mind to work properly. Yes, that must be it.
He grinned. “You know... I believe you’re right.” He gave her another kiss, but it was very brief. “Keep those tempting lips warm for me. I shan’t be gone very long.”
When he left her side and exited her room, a great emptiness consumed her. Her body trembled now, because she was too cool.
She stumbled to the bed and lay down, hugging her pillow to her chest. What had Gavin done to her? Indeed, he had better not break her heart this time... Her heart would be forever shattered.
EIGHT
It had been two hours. Two hours of apprehension building inside Priscilla’s chest. She feared she’d explode into nothingness if someone didn’t tell her what was going on. Gavin and his grandmother had been in the sitting room with the door closed, and although Priscilla had walked – tiptoed actually – by the room many times in the past two hours, she couldn’t hear much of what was being discussed. However, the raised voices were enough to set her on edge.
When her ankle started aching, she moved to one of the chairs in the large corridor, sat down and waited. She fidgeted in the chair, and wrung her hands on her lap. Were they talking about the fire in the stable? Or were they by chance discussing the marriage Gavin thought was supposed to happen so as not to ruin her reputation? She wondered if he worried more about his family’s reputation than hers. After all, her family was poor.
Finally, the door opened and Gavin strode out. Right behind him was the constable. She quickly rose.
As she watched Gavin’s manners as he walked the constable to the door and bid him farewell, it surprised her to see how much he’d changed. Eighteen months ago, he wouldn’t have done that. Perhaps marriage to him wouldn’t be miserable. He’d been trying to tell her that he’d changed. But seeing was believing. So far, she admitted he might be changing a little.
Gavin turned, and when he saw Priscilla, he moved in her direction. At first, he’d been scowling, his forehead wrinkled and his mouth pulled tight, but the closer he came, the more his face relaxed until he was smiling and taking her hands.
“Have you been waiting all this time for me?” he asked in a jovial voice.
“Well... you and your grandmother, of course. After all, am I not still her companion?”
“Yes, you are. For a few weeks, anyway.” He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “But then you’ll be my wife.”
Her heart leapt to her throat. “Gavin, I fear we need to talk about that. I’m having doubts—”
“What’s there to discuss that we haven’t already worked out between us?” he asked, stepping closer to her. “Your kiss has been on my mind since I left your room.”
She really wished her heart would stop flopping around excitedly like a fish out of water. “If you remember correctly,” she lowered her voice, “we did not do much talking at all.”
His smile widened. “No, we certainly did not.”
Slowly, she nodded. “Which is why we need to talk.”
He chuckled. “I prefer the other way of communicating.”
Heat climbed to her cheeks. “Yes, I realize that, but I’m still left doubting.”
“My sweet Cilla,” he kissed her hand again, “I assure you that when I return, we shall spend as much time as we wish talking... and other things.”
She shook her head. “When you return? Pray, where are you going?”
His smile disappeared. “I have to go to Birmingham for a few days. I fear something has come up that...” He cleared his throat. “That I need to fix.”
“Does it has something to do with today’s fire?”
He nodded. “Indeed, it does.”
As she opened her mouth to question further, he quickly continued.
“Grams has promised to keep you busy while I’m gone. She is going to prepare you to be a duchess.”
A duchess? Priscilla gulped noisily. She hadn’t even had her coming out ball because her father was too poor to afford it. “Gavin, I really must protest. You don’t need to marry me to save my reputation. I don’t think I can ever become a duchess. I’m sure you can find another woman to—”
“Another woman?” Laughter laced his voice. “That’s out of the question. And please remember that we will marry.” He leaned in and kissed her briefly on the lips. “Now, I must get ready for my trip. I hope you’ll see me off.” He winked before moving away from her and hurrying up the stairs.
Groaning, she rubbed her temples. This was certainly a mess, and at this moment, she wasn’t certain if she was excited to be getting married, or if the prospect of it frightened her nearly out of her mind.
No, it must be that she was frightened of the unknown... and about marrying a rogue.
“Miss Priscilla, dear,” the dowager called from inside the sitting room. “Would you please come here?”
Reluctantly, Priscilla returned to her duties as the dowager’s companion. During the next hour, the older woman explained what things Priscilla would be learning in order to become a good duchess. The dowager mentioned going into town tomorrow, which Priscilla couldn’t help but feel a little giddy. Every girl in Britain dreamed of marrying a duke – or a prince. Though even now, she didn’t dare believe it might happen.
Soon, the butler announced that Gavin would be leaving. Priscilla wheeled the dowager outside to the front porch as they waited for Gavin. He hugged his grandm
other first, her telling him make us proud.
This statement made Priscilla confused again. Was the older woman hinting about finding the person responsible for the fire? And finding the one responsible would make the dowager proud? Sometimes Priscilla wished the dowager – and especially her grandson – would confide in her a little more.
Gavin moved in front of Priscilla and took her hands, squeezing them gently. “Take care of Grams for me.”
She nodded. “Of course, I will.”
“I’m hoping only to be gone one day.”
“God speed, Gavin.”
Keeping her gaze locked on his, he brought her hands to his mouth and brushed his lips across her fingers. Just watching his dreamy eyes fascinated her.
“Are you going to miss me?” he asked softly.
Her mouth turned dry. “Perhaps I will.”
He grinned. “Well, I’m definitely going to miss you, Cilla.”
Why did her heart always bang against her ribs so quickly? His words were so sweet, but sometimes she wondered how sincere they were.
He gave her a wink before leaving her to climb up inside the coach. She stayed on the porch with the dowager duchess, and once the coach was out of sight, Priscilla wheeled the older woman inside.
Immediately, the dowager started acting like they were wasting time, and they needed to get Priscilla trained posthaste. Trained? Was Priscilla an animal?
She blew out a frustrated breath. These training days were going to be agonizing.
IT WAS RATHER EXCITING going into town. They’d gotten a lot accomplished, and Priscilla now had a dozen new gowns being made especially for her. Sadly enough, Priscilla’s own mother hadn’t taken the time to do this for the Benson sisters very often. Their mother usually went into town with the housekeeper only to get supplies and food for the kitchen.
Priscilla glanced at Mrs. Jones sitting across from her in the coach. Perhaps this was why the dowager brought her housekeeper. Obviously, this was one of the things Priscilla needed to learn about becoming a wife and a duchess.
Loving a Rogue (How to Love Book 3) Page 6
