Ten Reasons to Stay

by Sabrina Jeffries

  “It’s just a piddling cold. She’ll be fine. Sorry that you had to come here for nothing, my lord.” He turned to the door.

  “If it’s just a cold, then she should be able to receive visitors,” Colin persisted. “May I see her?”

  Whitcomb froze. “Why?”

  “There is something I wish to discuss with her before she goes on the trip that your servant mentioned.” He had to get the man talking about Eliza’s suitor. “You see, she and I were much thrown together at my cousin’s house, and I—”

  “If you’ve come courting, sir,” Whitcomb snapped as he whirled back around, “then you’ve come too late.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My niece is already betrothed. Indeed, we’re off to join her fiancé as soon as she feels better.”

  So she’d been telling the truth about the marriage, too. His conscience fairly beat at him now.

  “I don’t know how that can be.” Colin paused before speaking his next lie, but in for a penny, in for a pound. “Miss Crenshawe and I had something of an understanding when she left London.”

  Whitcomb ran a shaky hand through his hoary locks. “She had no right to make you any promises. She is betrothed, I tell you.”

  “She mentioned no betrothal.”

  “It was . . . rather sudden.”

  “Which is why I want to speak to her,” he said in a steely tone, determined to get the truth out of the man.

  “You can’t, damn you!” With sudden, inexplicable violence, the man swung his crop in a wide arc that sent a nearby table lamp flying.

  Colin caught his breath. “Why not?” he said, trying not to think of Eliza being struck by this ass.

  Who was now bearing down on him with crop in hand. “I know what your sort wants, and you can’t get it from her.”

  “My sort?” Colin said in an icy voice that most men knew to fear.

  But drink apparently made Whitcomb reckless. “Spawn of an Indian witch. The duke got you a title, and now you think to plump up your purse with my niece’s fortune. Only she doesn’t have one anymore, so you’re wasting your time.”

  Colin’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t need or want her fortune. I just want her. And I’m willing to give her a generous settlement.”

  “So is her betrothed.”

  This was odd. Why would Eliza’s uncle refuse an earl’s interest in her if she was so poor? Despite Colin’s mixed blood, he was perfectly eligible. “Who is my rival?”

  “It’s none of your concern.”

  “I’m making it my concern.” Time to force the magistrate’s hand. He strode toward the hall, calling out, “Eliza! Are you upstairs?”

  “Stop that, you fool!” Her uncle grabbed him by the arm with surprising strength. “You don’t want her, I tell you. She’s a reckless little hoyden—”

  “Indeed she is, but I happen to find that appealing. Eliza!”

  “Now see here, my lord, there are things you don’t know about my niece.”

  Colin froze, then turned to the man. “What do you mean?”

  Whitcomb hesitated, then squared his shoulders. “I didn’t want to tell you this, but you give me no choice. There’s a perfectly good reason I must take another man’s offer for her hand.”

  Eliza scowled up at the transom window for the fiftieth time and cursed her wide hips. She could never wriggle through that tiny space, even if the boxes weren’t too flimsy to climb on.

  Blast Colin. He’d certainly found her a neat little prison.

  With a sigh, she turned back to his naughty prints. She’d unearthed them again, unable to resist the lurid fascination they held for her. How these people could contort themselves into such positions was beyond her. She could never do it.

  Not that she would ever get the chance. Once Colin returned, she’d be hauled off to marry her uncle’s friend.

  The thought of it made her sink onto the floor in despair. First her uncle and now Colin. They would both rather ruin her life than be inconvenienced.

  A sob rose in her throat that she stifled at once. She would not cry. Somehow she’d get through this. She would.

  The sound of the outer door opening made her tense. Hurriedly she tried to whisk the prints away, but there were so many that Colin already had the dressing door open before she could finish.

  She faced him defiantly. “So you’re back, are you?”

  “Yes.” His gaze flicked to the prints. “Doing more exploring, I see.”

  A blush touched her cheeks. “Where’s my guardian? Downstairs? I don’t suppose you want him to know that you stashed me in your dressing—”

  “He’s not here. And I didn’t tell him that you were.” Colin held the door open, then gestured for her to come out. “But you and I have to talk, Miss Crenshawe.”

  She tensed. He knew her name now, so he knew everything. Wary of his mood, she followed him into his bedchamber.

  “I met your uncle. Apparently your tale wasn’t so gothic after all.” He fixed her with an unsettling glance. “But according to him, you left out a few things.”

  She frowned. “What things? I told you that I don’t know the suitor he chose.”

  “Jacob Minyard. He’s a brewer in Cornwall, willing to marry you despite your lack of fortune.” He paused, his gaze unreadable. “And virtue.”

  “Lack of virtue?” She cast him a perplexed glance. “I don’t understand.”

  “Your uncle says that some scoundrel in London seduced you. That’s why he has to marry you hastily to a stranger. Because no one else would have you.”

  She stared at him dumbfounded as the words pelted her like stones, hard and cruel, destroying her every hope for the future. “How dare he?” Tears welled in her eyes. “I expected him to lie, but this. . . . Blast him, why would Uncle Silas ruin my good name?”

  “He’s clearly desperate,” Colin said evenly.

  Her gaze shot to him as she dashed her tears away with one fist. “You believe him, don’t you? You believe that I actually let a man . . . that I’m not—”

  “No.” His voice was softer now as he came toward her.

  “You do!” More tears chafed her throat. “You already think me reckless and foolish, so why wouldn’t you think—”

  “Because you’re not reckless like that.” Grabbing her hand, he drew her to him. “I’ll admit that at first I was half-tempted to believe him, given how you offered to pleasure me.” When she tried to pull away, he wouldn’t let her, enfolding her in his strong embrace. “But it made no sense that an unchaste woman wouldn’t try to buy her freedom by offering to share my bed,” he murmured into her hair. “Or that she’d behave so innocently when I kissed and touched her.”

  “After what I told you about my acting, you probably figured I was pretending,” she said peevishly. He was holding her and nuzzling her hair and being awfully sweet, but she was afraid to trust that.

  He chuckled. “How to play the innocent when being seduced isn’t something you learn in a school-girl theatrical.” Brushing a kiss on her forehead, he added, “And I had other reasons for doubting your uncle’s claim. For one thing, why would he reveal your ‘condition’ to a man who’d come courting his niece?”

  “Courting?” She drew back to gape at him.

  “I couldn’t get him to tell me anything, so I claimed I’d met you in London and now wanted to marry you. I even offered a substantial settlement.” His eyes turned black and cold. “Not only did he refuse me, but that’s when he claimed you were unchaste. To warn me off, he said. Which is ludicrous. He should have leaped at the chance to make a good match for his ruined niece. Why marry you to a brewer in Cornwall when he could marry you to an earl?”

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head. “None of it makes sense.”

  He fixed her with an intense glance. “Tell me, sweeting, when your father’s will was read, was there mention of your fortune?”

  “Yes!” She chewed on her lower lip. “But after Uncle Silas fetched me from school
, he said that the trustees had looked more deeply into Papa’s finances and discovered hidden debts. They were forced to use my money to pay them. By the time he told me this, we’d already reached Brookmoor, and he said he meant to bring me to Cornwall.”

  “And marry you off hastily, before anyone could gainsay him. He was counting on browbeating you into it, I imagine.”

  “But why?”

  “I suspect that your uncle is desperate for money, so he’s trying to circumvent the law and your trustees. Minyard has probably agreed to give him a portion of your fortune in exchange for brokering the marriage. When Whitcomb fetched you from school, he thought you’d just go along, take his word for it about the money.” Colin chucked her under the chin. “You’re a schoolgirl, after all. Why would you question your legal guardian?”

  She ducked her head. “And I’m not that pretty, so he probably thought I’d leap to have a husband.”

  “Which only shows what an idiot he is. Any fool can see that you could have your pick of the men.”

  With a toss of her head, she met his gaze squarely. “Yes, you certainly seemed eager to have me.”

  He winced. “I . . . probably shouldn’t have said what I did this morning.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she lied, turning away. “It’s how you feel.”

  “But it doesn’t change what we should do.”

  She whirled on him. “I don’t care what lies my uncle tells the world about me, and I don’t care how badly you want to be rid of me. I shan’t marry some horrible Mr. Minyard, and I shan’t let my uncle—”

  “Of course not,” he said firmly. “It’s out of the question.”

  Slightly mollified, she crossed her arms over her chest. “So what solution do you propose?” She brightened. “Now will you bring me to London? I can go to the trustees—”

  “And what if your uncle isn’t lying about the money?”

  She swallowed. “I—I’ll take a job at the school, then.”

  “Which they’ll happily give to a young miss who traveled with a man alone for two days?” When she opened her mouth to protest, he added, “Or who was seen being put on the coach by the Earl of Monteith? After having been missing for a night? If you thwart your uncle, he gains nothing by saving your reputation.”

  Blast him, why must he always be right? “Then I’m ruined.”

  “Not if you marry me.”

  She blinked, then shook her head. “It’s very noble of you to offer, my lord, but I shan’t marry a man who thinks me so unsuitable to be his wife.”

  “Eliza—”

  “No!” She turned her back on him, her throat raw with frustration and anger at the horrible situation her uncle had put her in. “I don’t have to marry anyone. I’ll go to Mrs. Harris, and she’ll help me find some way through—”

  “While you live like a pariah, your reputation shattered, your future uncertain?” He slipped his arm about her waist and drew her back against him. “This is the best way to handle it, and you know it.”

  Tears trickled steadily down her cheeks. “I-I am not s-some p-poor, pathetic creature you have to r-rescue.”

  “No,” he murmured. “You aren’t. But you deserve better than ruination, and a possibly fruitless struggle against your legal guardian. If you marry me, he can’t touch you. And even if he denies you your fortune because we eloped, I don’t need it. The only way to keep you safe is for me to marry you.”

  “I don’t care about staying safe. And I deserve a husband who wants me.”

  “I do want you.” He kissed her hair. “You know I do.”

  “I don’t mean that sort of wanting.”

  “It’s better than no sort of wanting, isn’t it? Which is what you’re liable to have if your reputation is ruined beyond repair.” When she hesitated, fighting the temptation he offered, his voice grew acid. “Or perhaps you simply don’t want to marry a man who’d give you little brown-skinned children—”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” She turned to face him. A lock of raven hair fell across his brow, lending him a vulnerable air that tugged at her heart. “You’re a beautiful man who would give me beautiful children. If things were different, and you really wanted to marry me—”

  “I do. I meant to take a wife once I was settled, so why shouldn’t it be you?”

  She eyed him askance. “Because only a few hours ago, you told me that you wanted a steady, responsible female, not a hoyden.”

  “I was wrong. I’ve changed my mind.” His smile didn’t quite hide the fact that he was lying. “And you’re not a hoyden.”

  “But I’m not a steady female, either.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  It did matter. She’d heard just how much it mattered last night.

  “You might as well say yes, Eliza. Because I’ll keep you locked up here until you do.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “No, you’re right. If I kept you locked up, I’d never get any sleep or peace.” His eyes gleamed at her. “So I guess we’re off to the north in the cabriolet.”

  “The north?”

  “Gretna Green. That is where I’d have to take you, isn’t it, to marry you? Since you’re under age?”

  Him and his noble character. It was heartening that he’d marry her just to save her from her uncle, but she couldn’t let him do it.

  He was right about one thing, however. Even if she went to London alone, the trustees would never believe her over Uncle Silas, especially if there really was no money left. Drunken sot or not, he was a man, her guardian, and a magistrate.

  One way or the other, she had to deal with Uncle Silas. Better to do it now than later. “There’s another choice,” she said. “I can go back and reason with my uncle.” Alone, so she could get Colin out of this mess once and for all.

  Colin scowled. “No.”

  “This morning you said that was the only solution, and you were right.”

  “No,” he said, seizing her by the arms. “You’re never going near that ass again. And certainly not alone.”

  She laughed bitterly. “You can’t stop me from doing as I please this time, my lord. We both know you won’t assault me. You can’t tie me up and carry me off in the open cabriolet. And if you attempt to imprison me again in the dressing room, I will scream until the servants let me out. It was one thing when I had a reputation to preserve, but now I have nothing to lose. So either you let me go and save yourself, or you let me take you down with me.”

  Snagging her about the waist, he drew her into his embrace. “Or you could let me give you a reason to stay.” The smoldering heat in his eyes ignited an answering heat in her belly. “You could let me show you that our mutual desire is more than enough to sustain a marriage between us.”

  The fierce determination on his face made her despair. He would never let her go, would he? Now that he knew how badly she’d been wronged, he wouldn’t rest until he “saved” her. Even though he disapproved of her as a wife.

  It was only because he desired her. That guided his actions right now, but once his desire was sated, he would come to his senses.

  Her eyes narrowed. Then his guard would be down, and she could escape.

  But she’d be ruined.

  She sighed. For all intents and purposes, she was already ruined. Uncle Silas had seen to that. At least this way, she’d have one night with Colin to last her for the rest of her days.

  Because he would always be the only man for her. She knew it down deep, an ache in the center of her chest. It was madness, of course. She’d known him for barely one day, yet it seemed as if she’d known him for ages. Like her, he never quite belonged, never quite fit in. Which was precisely why she liked him.

  There was nothing she could do to change how she felt about him—except leap without looking one more time, and take what he offered. At least for tonight.

  “All right.” She reached up to untie his cravat. “Give me a reason to stay.”

  Sevenr />
  Colin caught his breath as Eliza tugged his cravat free, then shoved his coat off. “I can give you at least ten reasons,” he vowed, startling even himself with the intensity of his need.

  “Ten?” she said, her eyebrows arching high.

  “Or however many you need.”

  “Ten is plenty, my lord.” She flattened her hands on his chest. “If they’re very compelling.”

  So she meant to make this difficult, did she? He supposed he couldn’t blame her. He’d done his best last night to discourage her from considering a marriage between them, and a woman with Eliza’s pride wouldn’t easily forget that.

  But that didn’t mean he would let her walk out of here to a life of ruin and spinsterhood. Not after that horrible, patently untrue claim of her uncle’s. No wonder she’d been so stubborn—she really hadn’t seen a way out. And now neither did he.

  Except to marry her.

  An errant thrill coursed through him, the same one that had seized him when he’d first decided that marriage was their only course. He’d been a long time without a wife. She might not be the perfect choice, but God, how he wanted her.

  So he would have her. He’d simply be careful and do things differently this time. He could still have his peaceful life if he took her firmly in hand.

  But first he must convince her to stay.

  “Here’s Reason One.” He brought his mouth down to hers. “You like kissing me.”

  He devoured her lips, starved for them after hours away from her. Flavored with butter and honey, her mouth was a feast of pleasures so heady that when she tangled her tongue with his readily, hungrily, it drove him out of his mind. And when she broke the kiss, he gave an audible moan.

  “That is . . . quite a compelling reason,” she murmured against his lips. “But you have nine more to go.”

  “Give me a chance,” he rasped, trailing kisses down her throat while he removed her ridiculous coat and waistcoat, then dragged her shirt free of the breeches so he could slide his hands up beneath it to cup her heavy breasts. “Reason Two: You like having me touch you.”