Ask for It (Georgian 1)

“Yes, love.” Marcus lay on his back and stared up at the summer sky. “It’s distressing to think I may be refused. I was more confident the first time around.”

Elizabeth laughed, a soft joyful sound that brought a smile to his face. “You shall find another, far more suitable candidate. A young woman who will worship your remarkable handsomeness and charm, and be far more biddable.”

“I would never marry a woman such as you describe. I much prefer passionate, uneven-tempered seductresses like yourself.”

“I am not a seductress!” she protested, and he laughed with delight.

“You certainly were the other evening. The way you arched your brow and bit your lip before fucking me senseless. I vow, I’ve never seen anything as seductive. And the way you look when you—”

“Tell me about your family,” she interrupted, her cheeks flushing. “How are Paul and Robert?”

He glanced sidelong at her, relishing the view of her against the natural backdrop, freed from the constraints of society. The tall grass around them flowed like waves of water in the gentle breeze, filling the air with the scent of warm earth and salty sea. “They are well. They inquire about you, as does my mother.”

“Do they? I am surprised, but pleased they don’t resent me overmuch. They should venture out more. It has been almost a fortnight since they arrived, and yet they’ve not attended one social function.”

“Robert still has no interest whatsoever in social pursuits. Paul prefers his club. He spends most of his time there. And my mother has to order new gowns every Season, and refuses to be seen until they are finished.” His grin was fond. “Heaven forbid that she be seen in a gown from last year.”

She smiled. “Is Robert still the spitting image of you?”

“So I’ve been told.”

“You don’t think so?”

“No. The resemblance is there, but no more than one would expect. And Paul remains as different from me as you are from your brother.” He reached for her hand and linked his fingers with hers, needing the physical connection. She tugged, but he held fast. “You will see for yourself soon enough.”

She wrinkled her nose. “You seem quite confident in your ability to win my hand.”

“I cannot think otherwise. Now tell me you wrote Barclay about your location.”

“Yes, of course. He would be frantic, and unbearable company for Margaret if I had not.”

They lapsed into silence and Marcus enjoyed their rare accord, content to experience the daylight hours with her.

“What are you contemplating so seriously?” he asked after a time.

“My mother.” She sighed. “William says she loved the coast. We used to visit here often and play in the sand. He tells stories of her lifting the hem of her skirts and dancing across the beach with our father.”

“You don’t remember?”

Her fingers tightened fractionally on his and lifting her glass, she took a large swallow of wine. Her gaze moved to the distant cliffs and her voice, when it came, was soft and faraway. “Sometimes I think I recall her scent or the tone of her voice, but I cannot be certain.”

“I’m sorry,” he soothed, rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand.

She sighed. “Perhaps it’s for the best that she’s only a fleeting impression. William remembers her, and it saddens him. It’s why he’s so protective, I think. Her illness progressed so quickly, it took us all by surprise. My father especially.”

There was an unusual edge to Elizabeth’s voice when she referred to her father. Marcus rolled to his side and rested his head in his hand, maintaining his casual pose while studying her intently. “Your father never remarried.”

She returned his gaze, a small frown marring the space between her brows. “He loved my mother too much to ever take another wife. He still loves her.”

Marcus considered the Earl of Langston’s libidinous reputation. This in turn led him to consider his own dislike of romantic entanglements.

“Tell me about your father,” he urged, curious. “As often as I’ve spoken with him, I still know precious little about him.”

“You are probably better acquainted with him than I. My resemblance to my mother is painful, so he avoids me. I often think he would have been best served by never falling in love. Lord knows the sentiment brought him precious little happiness and a lifetime of regret.”

There was a sadness in her eyes and a firmness to her lips that betrayed her distress. He wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her, so he did just that, rising to a seated position and pulling her against his chest. Tossing aside the obtrusive hat, he pressed a kiss to her neck and breathed in her scent. Together, they faced the ocean.

“I worried about my mother when my father passed on,” Marcus murmured, his hands caressing the length of her arms. “I was not certain she could live without him. Like your parents, mine also had a love match. But she is a strong woman and she recovered. While she most likely won’t marry again, my mother has found contentment without a spouse.”

“So have I,” Elizabeth said softly.

Reminders of how she didn’t need him would not benefit his cause. He had to win her before she learned of Eldridge’s decision. Reluctantly pulling away, Marcus removed her glass from stiff fingers and topped it up. “Are you hungry?”

Elizabeth nodded, obviously relieved. Then she gave him a dazzling smile that made his breath catch and his blood heat.

At that moment, he knew. She was his, and he would protect her. Whatever the cost.

A cold tingle crawled up his spine as he remembered the sight of her ransacked room. What would have happened if she’d been home? Clenching his jaw, he vowed to never find out.

Marriage seemed a small price to pay to keep her safe.

Chapter 12

“The servants from the main house brought supper.”

Elizabeth looked up from Hawthorne’s journal to see Marcus lounging in the doorway. With a sigh, she snapped the book closed and pushed aside the blanket she had wrapped around her legs. Rising from the chaise, she took the arm he offered her. Once they were seated in the small formal dining room, he tucked into his veal with his usual fervor.

She watched him with a soft smile. Marcus’s appetite for life amazed her. He did nothing in half measure.

“I suppose the outriders told you my destination,” she said dryly.

“Which is another reason we should wed,” he replied around a bite. “You are a troublesome baggage. You require a great deal of watching over.”

“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

He frowned, his gaze piercing beneath his drawn brows. “Your room was ransacked after your departure, Elizabeth.”

“Beg your pardon?” The color drained from her face.

His mouth twisted grimly. “You look as I f

elt when I saw it. I thought you had been kidnapped.” He lifted his knife and shook it at her. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

Elizabeth barely registered his words. Her room. Ransacked. “Was anything missing?” she whispered.

“I’m not certain.” Marcus set aside his utensils. “If anything is amiss, I’ll replace it.”

Bristling at the offer, which was entirely too proprietary, Elizabeth was struck with a terrifying thought. “William? Margaret?”

“Everyone is well,” he soothed, his features softening.

“William must know about the journal, then?”

“Your brother assumed it was your doing, that I had driven you into a rage. He knows nothing more.”

Her hand to her chest, Elizabeth tried to imagine what the scene must have looked like. “All of my things sorted through.” She shuddered. “Why did you not tell me earlier?”

“You were already distressed, love.”

“Of course I’m distressed, it’s too dreadful.”

“You’ve every right to feel violated. I thank God you weren’t home at the time. Although that’s not encouragement for you to run off whenever the urge strikes you.”

“Sometimes a respite is a necessity,” she retorted, her palms damp with her unease and disquiet.

“How well I know it,” he murmured, reminding her of how he’d left England after her marriage. “But I need to know where you are, every minute of every hour.”

Flustered by his news and stung by guilt she snapped, “You are why I need respite!”

Marcus heaved a clearly frustrated breath. “Eat,” he ordered.

She stuck her tongue out at him, then gulped down her wine in an effort to warm the chill within her.

They finished the rest of the meal in silence, both absorbed in their own thoughts. Afterwards, they retired to the front parlor. Elizabeth resumed perusing the journal while Marcus took off his boots and began to polish them.

Using the book to hide behind, she watched him engaged in his task, the light from the fireplace casting a golden halo around him. As the powerful muscles of his shoulders shifted with his exertions, Elizabeth felt a familiar longing spread through her. She couldn’t help but be reminded of his powerful body flexing over and inside hers, dissolving her will in decadent pleasure. After years of equanimity, she was inundated with feelings too strong to control.