“So you refused him because he doesn’t love you?”
She sucked in an unsteady breath, and the hands clutching the handkerchief tightened until her knuckles shone white. When she spoke, her voice was so low, he had to lean closer to hear. “No, I refused him because I realized I didn’t love him.”
There was no real reason for Giles’s heart to start turning cartwheels. Not loving Paul was no guarantee that she loved him instead. “Oh.”
After a pause, Serena glanced at him. She still looked unhappy. And uncertain. “Is that all you’ve got to say?”
He frowned thoughtfully. “Well, what I have to say rather depends on who you do love, if you love anyone at all.”
Her gray eyes, pink-rimmed from weeping, searched his face. “I’ve made a complete fool of myself over Paul.”
“Mmm,” he said noncommittally.
“Very tactful.” To his surprise, grim amusement lightened her expression. “Everyone within fifty miles seems to know I set my cap at him.”
“Including Paul.”
“Including Paul.”
He sighed. “I’d have wagered my last shilling that you’d accept him.”
She went back to twisting her handkerchief between her hands. “Is that why you were leaving?”
“Yes,” he said, knowing it was a declaration of sorts. “And also because I blotted my copybook last night.”
“My mother was wonderful, wasn’t she? She’s always liked you.”
“I like her. I like your whole family.”
“That’s good,” she said.
“It is.”
A difficult silence descended. He stared down at the black and white tiles on the floor and wondered how to angle the conversation around to whether one particular member of Serena’s family liked him. More than liked him.
Words banked up inside him. Passionate words. Crucial words. Words that could change a fellow’s life forever. But they all crashed hard against the barrier of his long-held belief that she could never love him.
He straightened and told himself to seize the chance and speak his heart. Damn it, he wouldn’t let his courage fail now. Whatever it cost him.
But still his throat closed tight against what he must say.
A prickling sensation made him turn his head and meet her eyes. Biting her lip, she shoved her handkerchief into her pocket and sat up straight as if making a hard choice.
“Giles,” she said in a very deliberate tone. “Why did you kiss me?”
Moodily he watched the falling snow outside the door. One booted foot kicked at the floor. “Because I couldn’t help myself.”
A quick glance revealed her dissatisfaction with that answer. “I don’t mean just last night.”
“I don’t either. I’ve wanted to kiss you for years.” More than kiss her, God forgive him. “When you gave me the chance, I couldn’t say no, although it broke every rule in the gentleman’s code.”
“The gentleman’s code?” Curiosity lit her eyes, and she studied him, as though he had the answer to every question. Which was ironic when he felt so completely at sea.
With another sigh, he went back to watching the snow. “The code that says you don’t cut out a friend who’s set his sights on a woman. Make that double if he intends to marry the chit.”
“I didn’t know.”
“About the gentleman’s code?”
“No, that you’d always wanted to kiss me.”
“Well, I did.”
Another thorny silence that she eventually broke. “Do you still?”
“Still what?”
She gave a brief hiss of impatience. “Do you still want to kiss me?”
He faced her. “Of course I do.”
“So why don’t you?”
Shock turned him to stone. Then he shook his head. “It’s more complicated than that.”
Her eyes darkened with something that could be disappointment. “Because Paul’s not here to be jealous?”
“Bugger Paul.”
“Then why?”
His mouth turned down. “Because kisses aren’t enough anymore.”
“Because…you’re a rake and you want to seduce me?”
His grunt of laughter contained no amusement. “I want to seduce you, but not because I’m a rake.”
“Then why, Giles?” The question, raw after her earlier tears, vibrated with feeling. “We’re here alone. Last night you kissed me as if you were desperate for me. Yet today, you’re acting like we’re strangers. Tell me what you want. You’ve never said, and while a girl can guess, she’d rather have it spelled out.”
At last, the dam inside him broke. He heaved to his feet and glared down at her. Impassioned words tumbled from his lips, although they sounded more like an accusation than a vow of eternal fealty. “Goddamn it, Serena. I’m in love with you.”
She didn’t respond as though he’d delivered good news, blast it. Looking uncertain, she rose from the bench and stood in front of him as he loomed over her. “You didn’t tell me.”
He growled low in his throat. “Why would I tell you? You only had eyes for bloody Paul.”
“Not…not this Christmas,” she said faintly, her breath escaping in uneven huffs. She took a tottering step toward him and extended her hands in a pleading gesture. “Do you want to tell me again? And this time, please try not to sound as if you’re challenging me to pistols at ten paces.”
Giles inhaled to clear his head, and this time, his mind kicked into motion and cut a path through the tangle of confusion, self-mistrust, and turmoil. Almost too late.
He squared his shoulders and raised his chin. In his chest, the hope which had shriveled into a dry husk unfurled anew. Clearing his throat, he forced the irrevocable words past his lips. He managed to regulate his voice to something less than a roar.
“I love you, Serena. I’ve always loved you. You fill all my dreams.”
Her eyes widened with amazement, and something that looked like exultation. After another pause, she swallowed, as if speaking posed a problem for her, too. “Giles, do you know why I said no to Paul’s proposal?”
“He doesn’t love you.”
“Yes, that’s true.”
She paused, and Giles feared he must explode with suspense. He was almost sure that she loved him, although balancing on the brink of hearing her admit it was excruciating.
She bit her lip again, then spoke in a rush. “But the real reason I said no is because I realized I’m in love with another man.”
His eyes narrowed on her, as hope punched him so hard in the gut, it stole his breath. “That other man had better be me.”
She stepped forward and twined her arms around his neck. Her tremulous smile sat oddly with her tearstained cheeks. “Who else could it be but you?”
With shaking hands, he caught her slender waist. How he ached to kiss her. But first, he needed to hear the words. “It’s your turn to say it, Serena.”
She rose on her toes and kissed his lips. “I love you, Giles.”
Dazzled he stared down at her, while his heart gave a mighty thud of relief and gratitude. Thank God. Thank God. Thank God. As elation flooded through him, he released a long exhalation that he felt he’d been holding back for ten years.
She loved him. Serena loved him. Impossible, unwinnable, irresistible, gorgeous Serena Talbot declared herself his. He could hardly believe it. Yet when he stared into her shining silvery eyes and saw his wonder mirrored there, he did believe it. Serena loved him, and the life he’d always wanted was his for the taking.
Unfamiliar happiness made it as difficult to speak as despair ever had. He swallowed to shift the choking ball of poignant emotion jamming his throat. “Well, it’s about time,” he said huskily.
His answer made her giggle, until his ferocious kiss distracted her. He sensed her surprise at the quick shift to passion, before her hands clenched on his shoulders and she met him with open-mouthed ardor.
All coherent thought vanished in a blaze
of joy and heat. And love.
Finally, love.
By the time Giles came back to the world, he was sitting on the bench with Serena on his lap and her face hidden in the curve of his shoulder. When he felt a warm dampness against his neck, he pulled away to see her face. She was rosy with happiness—apart from the tears glistening in her eyes.
“What’s this? You’re the most contrary creature. I thought you’d be glad.”
His gentle teasing roused a radiant, if waterlogged smile. She laid one hand against his cheek. “What a fool I am. It took me so long to see the truth.”
He tilted his head to kiss her palm. “There is one thing you can do to make it up to me.”
“Love you forever?”
He laughed softly, even as his heart cramped to hear her speak with such ease of the love he’d believed would never be his. “That goes without saying. Another thing.”
She combed her fingers through his hair and drew him down for more breathless kisses. He wrapped her in his arms and let himself feast on her lips.
“Giles?” she murmured after a long while.
“Hmm?” He nibbled a delicious path along her neck. “Why the deuce did you choose such a chilly spot for our reconciliation?”
“I didn’t know we were to have a reconciliation.” To his regret, she wriggled away. “As far as I was aware, you were halfway to London, after writing me a grumpy little note that consigned me to perdition.”
“I didn’t,” he said, appalled that she’d reacted that way to his stilted farewell.
“You did. But I forgive you.” Her loving look was the sunshine that melted the last frozen reaches lingering at the edges of his soul. “You said you wanted something from me.”
Before she’d kissed him to the stars and back. Still, she deserved her moment.
Very gently, he shifted her onto the bench and went down on one knee before her. The cold of the tiled floor was like a knife, even through his breeches.
“My darling Serena, I love you with all my heart.” For the first time, the declaration, so simple, so complicated, emerged freely. He caught her trembling hand. “Will you do me the great honor of agreeing to become my wife?”
“My wonderful Giles,” she said in a choked voice. “I can think of nothing I’d like better.”
“Sweetheart…” He surged up to fold her in his arms again, but to his astonishment, she leaped to her feet and evaded him. “What in Hades is it now? I should think a marriage proposal merits a kiss.”
“More than one, but let’s find somewhere warmer first.” Giddy happiness rang in her laugh, and she stretched up to skim her lips across his. Before he could lure her closer, she danced away. “Somewhere with a little mistletoe for luck.”
Giles caught Serena round the waist, and the sizzling kiss they shared made a mockery of the bleak winter weather. Dazed, he lifted his head and smiled down at the woman he worshipped. “You and I don’t need mistletoe, my love.”
Epilogue
Lanyon Castle, Devon, February 1821
Naked beneath his vermillion dressing gown, Giles knocked at the door leading from his dressing room to the marchioness’s apartments. No marchioness had occupied these rooms in over twenty-five years. Now a glorious, golden-haired woman would bring his home alive. She’d already brought the marquess alive.
After years of yearning, at last Serena was his. He’d been hers from the first.
A smile curved his lips, as he recalled this morning’s wedding. It had been a perfect winter’s day, cold and crisp, with a pale sun turning the landscape to diamonds. Yet the brightest diamond of all had been Serena Talbot, now Serena Farraday, Marchioness of Hallam.
His bride had marched up the aisle of St. Lawrence’s, like a conqueror entering a vanquished city. She’d worn a simple white gown and a long lace veil scattered with pearls. Serena had been incandescent with joy, and so beautiful and regal that his heart had threatened to burst with love. And astonished gratitude that this superb creature entrusted herself to him.
It had been a perfect day in every way. Marrying Serena, not only did he claim the woman he loved, he also became part of the family that eighteen years ago had embraced a bewildered orphan boy. When he escorted her to the altar, Serena’s father had looked like he’d won a kingdom in a lottery. Serena’s mother had shed a few happy tears during the ceremony. She’d whispered in her new son-in-law’s ear before he left Torver House that she’d always known he was the one for her daughter.
And now, his wife lay in the big bed where countless generations of Farraday brides had slept. Had any man in history been as happy as Giles was tonight? He took leave to doubt it.
During their five week engagement, Serena had preserved her virtue, if only by a whisker. His control had come near shattering so many times, during their trysts in the summerhouse. If the place hadn’t been as cold as a penguin’s parlor, Serena wouldn’t have come to church a virgin bride.
But tonight, tonight Giles’s torture ended. All those years of hopeless longing, that had turned out not to be hopeless at all, would find their consummation.
His heart pounding with anticipation, he heard her soft permission to enter the room. He opened the door and paused on the threshold.
By all that was holy, she was lovely. The breath snagged in his throat. Hunger strained on its leash, but Giles intended to spin each moment out as far as he could, to eternity if possible. The first moment was this, the sight of his bride in the bed where he meant to possess her.
Serena leaned against the carved oak bedhead, the sheets folded at her waist. Her golden hair lay loose about her shoulders, and her sheer white nightgown reminded him of the dress she’d worn when she pledged herself to him.
Her breasts pressed wantonly against the frail silk. As he watched her nipples harden, his excitement mounted.
“I’m the luckiest man in England,” he murmured in a reverent tone.
Flickering candles lit the room, and a fire roared in the hearth. The golden light turned Serena into a mysterious, exotic creature. “Only in England?”
A fond laugh escaped. “Well, I can’t speak for the entire world. A Mogul in Rajasthan or a mandarin in Peking might vie for the title. Although I doubt it.”
Her slender hands plucked at the crisp white sheets. “It’s silly to be nervous.”
“Very silly.” Tenderness swamped his craving to take her. He strolled across to a carved Elizabethan chest where the servants had set out wine and plates of delicacies.
She observed him with a thoughtful expression. “After all, I love it when you kiss me.”
“I should hope so.” He poured two glasses of claret.
“And when we had the chance, we’ve gone beyond kisses.”
The memory of tasting her delicious nipples charged his mind with red heat. “We have.”
“And I’ve known you most of my life.”
“Yes.”
“So why am I worried?”
He crossed to the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress. “Because you’ve never done this before.” He passed her a glass and summoned every ounce of heroism he could muster. “Would you rather wait? It’s been a long day, and you’re tired after crossing two counties.”
After the wedding breakfast, they’d traveled through a fairytale landscape of sparkling snow and trees laced with frost. When they’d arrived at Lanyon Castle, her awe at its rambling, medieval splendor had helped him view his home with kinder eyes. He’d always thought of the Farraday family seat as an uncongenial monstrosity, but from tonight, he meant to create new, happier memories here. In this house, he hoped to bring up his children and live into contented old age with his beloved wife. If the castle lacked soul now, by God, it would have a soul by the time he was done with it.
She frowned into her untouched wine as if she considered his offer, before she glanced up at him through her lashes. “I’m not that tired. Do you really want to wait?”
Good God, no. He’d already waited wh
at felt like ten lifetimes. “I’ve wanted you for so long, another night won’t make much difference.”
Except it was his wedding night, and he burned for her. And the five weeks of temptation since she’d admitted she loved him had proven an excruciating mixture of rapture and frustration.
Her lush mouth curled in a wry smile. “You don’t sound like you mean that.”
Self-derision turned down his lips. “At least give me points for trying.”
“I do.” She leaned forward and kissed him. “I love you, Giles.”
“I love you,” he said, when she drew away to taste her wine. “Would you like me to stay?”
Surprise widened her eyes. “Where else would you go?”
“The first night in a strange bed, you might prefer to sleep alone.”
Her laugh banished his scruples. “I most certainly do not. I want to sleep with my husband.” She set her glass on the night table with a purposeful gesture that belied the apprehension in her eyes. “And by sleep, I mean stay awake and discover everything you learned when you were chasing all those naughty London ladies.”
Elation flooded him, along with the desire he no longer had to strangle into obedience. “You do me too much honor.”
“I want this, Giles.” She swept the covers back to reveal her slender body in its sheath of snowy silk. “I think I’ve wanted it from the first time you kissed me under the mistletoe. From that moment, I was lost.”
He stood, setting his wine aside. “Serena…”
Her smile brimmed with love. “Show me, my darling.”
A dizzying combination of disbelief and gratitude gripped him. All his life, he’d felt like an outsider. But Serena now invited him to join her in a warm, generous world. He shrugged the dressing gown off and let it crumple to the floor. “My pleasure.”
“Heavens,” she breathed, surveying his naked body with a greedy curiosity that threatened good intentions. “You’re quite magnificent. What a sin it is to cover you up with clothing.”
An amused grunt escaped him, despite the heat stinging his cheeks. “It’s too cold to run around naked at this time of year, my love.”
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