Four Dukes and a Devil
Page 31
Something inside her shriveled at the notion.
“How have you been, India?” he asked in a rich, mellow tone that made her quiver deep inside.
Been? she thought. Desolate. That’s how I’ve been.
Instead, she sent him what she hoped was a carefree smile. “Quite well. Excellent, in fact.”
His gaze sought hers, a deep glint in his coffee-hued eyes that she couldn’t quite interpret. “You look wonderful. Even more beautiful than I remember.”
She buried a hand against her skirt. “And what of you, Your Grace? How have you been these past months?”
“Less than good, actually.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, lines creasing her forehead in sudden concern. “You haven’t been ill, have you?”
“No, not physically ill. Not unless you consider unhappiness a disease. Because if that’s the case, then you might say I’m in a very bad way indeed.”
She stared, her pulse thudding harder in her veins.
“I thought I was doing the right thing when I left you in August,” he continued. “I told myself it was for both of our good, and that a clean break was exactly what we needed. Once parted, we’d count ourselves lucky over our easy escape. After all, who bases their lives on little more than a week’s acquaintance? What kind of foundation would it provide for a relationship?”
He pulled in a ragged breath. “Since then, I’ve come to realize that I made the biggest mistake of my life. No matter how I’ve tried, I can’t get you out of my mind or my heart. You haunt me, India, and without you, I’m scarcely fit for anything.”
Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a ring. The brilliant square-cut emerald winked like a cat’s eye in the milky afternoon light.
Her heart did a flip, not quite able to believe all the things he was saying.
“I suppose I’m a selfish bastard to claim you before you’ve even had a chance to step out in the world and spread your wings,” he went on. “But I cannot do without you. I love you, and I’ve come to understand that it’s not the length of time that matters but the depth of the devotion. Seven days or seventy years, it won’t change how I feel. Tell me it’s not too late, sweetheart. Tell me you still hold the same regard for me that you did all those months ago. Marry me, India Byron, and make me a happy man.”
A full-body shiver went through her, emotions pouring over her with such force that she feared she might burst apart. Suddenly, her earlier question repeated in her head, and all at once she knew exactly where to run.
Taking three huge steps, she sprinted forward, then launched herself into his arms. He caught her safely, clutching her against his strong chest, as she wrapped her arms around him.
Her lips went to his. Or maybe his went to hers, the two of them kissing with a wild, ravenous joy. Closing her eyes, she let the rapture soar within her, knowing she would never find anything more perfect than the beauty of his touch. Kissing him harder, she felt all the past weeks’ misery fall away.
At length, he broke their kiss, a bit winded as he met her gaze. “So, do I take it that’s a yes?”
“Of course it’s a yes!” she retorted. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! Did I say it enough? One time for each day we were together at the Pettigrews’?”
“I believe you managed. And you still love me, in spite of the way I left?”
“I shouldn’t,” she told him with a mildly reproving look. “You were cruel, you know.”
He grew solemn. “I know, and I’m sorry. From now on, I’ll do everything in my power to make it up to you.”
“Well, I won’t stop you, if you insist. But right now, I’m just too happy to stay angry. I’ve been so miserable. You’ll never know just how much.”
“If you’ve been anything like me, I do,” he said with complete sincerity.
“Swear you’ll never leave me again.”
“I swear and gladly.”
He kissed her once more, neither of them coming up for air for quite some while.
“Are you sure?” he murmured against her lips.
“About what?” she asked on a dreamy sigh, almost delirious with pleasure.
“The engagement. We can postpone it if you want. The delay will probably kill me, but we can wait to make the announcement until after you’ve had your Season. So long as I know it’ll be my ring on your finger, I shall willingly suffer any deprivation on your behalf.”
“I most certainly am not postponing the engagement or the wedding!” she stated with a firm shake of her head. “We shall spend the Season together where I can enjoy the delights of London as your bride. Besides, I’ll make a much bigger splash that way. Society will find the new Duchess of Weybridge far more impressive than plain Miss Byron.” She flashed him a saucy grin.
He grinned back. “Believe me, darling, there’s nothing plain about you. There never was, and there never shall be.”
“Oh, I just remembered,” she said. “Where is my ring?”
For a moment, he looked nonplussed. “I believe in all excitement, I dropped it. Here, let me look.”
Releasing her, he stepped back, while she did the same. The emerald sparkled where it lay on the carpet.
Bending, Quentin picked it up. “Shall we try this again?”
Trembling with happiness, she held out her hand.
He smiled, his dark eyes aglow with love. “Will you marry me, India?”
“Yes, Quentin. I will.” She watched, beaming as he slid the gold-and-gemstone circlet onto her finger.
“I’ll never take it off,” she said with a husky catch of emotion in her voice.
“And I shall never let you.”
Drawing her back into his arms, he captured her mouth for a long, lingering kiss. Her senses swam, giddy with bliss. When he cupped her breast in his palm, she arched into his touch, then reached up to thread her fingers into his hair. Slanting her mouth against his, she let him take her flying, tingling from head to toe and drunk with delight.
At length, he drew away. “Hmm, we’d better stop while I still have the strength,” he groaned, his words heavy with repressed desire. “Speaking of which, is there any other way out of here besides the door?”
“Just the windows. Why?”
“Because I’m sure your father is about to name his seconds, we’ve been in here so long. If I didn’t already want to marry you, I’d have to do so now just for propriety’s sake.”
She gave a little snort. “You’d find some other way. You’re a very persuasive sort of man, Your Grace. I have no doubt Mama and the girls will be wrapped firmly around your finger by the end of the evening.”
“Perhaps. But there’s only one woman I care to have wrapped around my finger, and that’s you.”
“You’re in luck then, since I’m wrapped tight, and shall stay that way. Now and forever, my love.”
About Tracy Anne Warren
TRACY ANNE WARREN grew up in a small central Ohio town. After working for a number of years in finance, she quit her day job to pursue her first love—writing romance novels. Warren lives in Maryland with three exuberant young Siamese cats and windows full of gorgeous orchids and African violets. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading, watching movies, and dreaming up the characters for her next book. Visit her website at www.tracyannewarren.com.
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Copyright
FOUR DUKES AND A DEVIL. “The
Irish Duke” copyright © 2009 by Cathy Maxwell, Inc. “The Duke Who Came to Dinner” copyright © 2009 by Elaine McShulskis “Devil to Pay” copyright © 2009 by Jeaniene Frost “Catch of the Century” copyright © 2009 by Sophia Nash “Charmed By Her Smile” copyright © 2009 by Tracy Anne Warren. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Adobe Digital Edition May 2009 ISBN 978-0-06-193322-6
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