A Passion for Him (Georgian 3)

Colin straightened from his low bow, his eyes meeting Ware’s as the earl mimicked his movements. He felt the hot trickle of blood weeping from the shallow wound caused by Ware’s blade, but he did not care. Ware had satisfaction, but that was all he would have. It would have to be enough for the earl, for Colin intended to take the spoils.

“But regardless of everything that recommends you, my lord,” Colin continued, “I concede only this duel. Not Miss Benbridge. Her deeper affection is for me, as always. And I believe my feelings for her are quite obvious to one and all.”

“Which is why you abandoned her for several years?” the earl scoffed.

“I cannot alter the past. However, I can assure you that from the present moment onward, nothing on Earth can take her from me.”

Ware’s blue eyes narrowed, and thick tension filled the air between them. Then the corner of the earl’s mouth lifted. “Perhaps you are not the man I thought you were.”

“Perhaps not.”

They bowed again, then quit the lawn, both men heading in the separate directions their lives would now take them.

The next half hour of Amelia’s life—or was it an hour?—passed in a daze. Maria forced tea upon her, as well as a hefty dose of laudanum.

“It will calm you,” her sister murmured.

“Go away,” she muttered, slapping at the many hands that sought to soothe her brow.

“I will read quietly,” Maria said, “and send your abigail away.”

“No. You go, too.”

Eventually they gave up and went away, leaving Amelia to curl into herself and fall back into a dreamless, drug-induced sleep.

Sadly, the respite did not last long. Far too soon another hand brushed the curls back from her face.

“I suppose I have only myself to blame for your lack of faith.”

Colin’s voice brushed across her skin like a tangible caress. She rolled into him, grasping with her hands. He caught them with his own and squeezed.

“You were supposed to sleep straight through this morning,” he murmured, pulling the blankets back from her. “I wanted to spare you any possibility of distress.”

She was lifted and cradled to a warm, hard chest. The scent of his skin, so alluringly masculine and uniquely Colin, urged her to bury her tear-streaked face in his cravat.

She was distantly aware of being carried. It felt as if they descended a staircase, and then fresh air was drifting over her skin, making her shiver.

“There’s a blanket in my carriage,” he murmured. “A minute more and then you will be comfortable again.”

A moment later she was jostled into a carriage, and it set off with a lurch, the wheels crunching across gravel. She was held securely in Colin’s lap and covered warmly. Tears leaked out between her closed eyelids, and she prayed that she would never wake from such a wonderful dream.

His firm lips pressed tightly against her forehead. “Sleep.”

Drugged by the laudanum, she did.

It was the sudden cessation of motion that woke Amelia. Blinking, she fought off the remnants of sleep.

“The horses are fatigued and I am near starved.” Colin’s deep voice pulled her from half awareness to full cognizance in an instant.

The duel . . .

Bolting upright, the top of her head made sharp contact with his chin, causing them both to cry out.

“Ow, damn it,” he muttered, rearranging her atop his lap as if she weighed nothing at all.

Wild-eyed, Amelia took in the luxurious appointments of Colin’s travel coach and then leaned out the window. They were in the courtyard of what appeared to be an inn.

She glanced at him and found him rubbing his chin. “Where are we?”

“On our way.”

“To where?”

“To be wed.”

Amelia blinked. “What?”

His smile revealed his dimples and reminded her of the boy she had fallen so deeply in love with. “You said that we had no hope of moving forward together if I was forever leaving you behind. Since I had no further reason to enjoy Lord Ware’s hospitality, it was time for us to go.”

She stared at him for a long moment, trying to collect what it was that he was saying. “I do not understand. Did you not duel this morning?”

“Yes, we did.”

“Did he not win? Did you not say he was the better man? Dear God, am I losing my mind?”

“Yes, yes, and no.” Colin tightened the arm banded around her waist and pulled her closer. “I allowed him first blood,” he explained. “He had a right to it. When I took you, you were still his.”

Amelia opened her mouth to protest, and he covered her lips with his fingertips. “Allow me to finish.”

She stared at him for a long moment, absorbing the sudden gravity reflected on his countenance. Then she nodded and slipped free of his embrace, moving to the opposite squab so that she could think properly.

It was then she noted that she was dressed in her night rail. For his part, Colin was beautifully attired in a velvet ensemble of dark green. She still encountered difficulty correlating the Colin before her with the Colin of old, but she had no difficulty loving him, regardless. The sight of him filled her with pleasure, just as it always had.

“There is no point in denying that Ware can offer you things that I cannot,” Colin said, his dark eyes watching her with a mixture of love and determination. “That is what you overheard this morning. However, I have come to realize that I don’t care.”

“You don’t?” Amelia’s hand went to her fluttering stomach.

“No, I don’t.” He crossed his arms, revealing the powerful muscles she found endlessly arousing. “I love you. I want you. I intend to have you. Every other consideration be damned.”

“Colin—”

“I’ve stolen you, Amelia. Run away with you, just as I have always wanted to do.” He smiled again. “Within a fortnight, you and I will be husband and wife.”

“Do I have no say in the matter?”

“You can say ‘yes’ if you like. Otherwise, you have no say.”

Amelia laughed even as tears fell.

Colin leaned forward and set his elbows on his knees. “Tell me those are happy tears.”

“Colin . . .” She gave a shaky sigh. “How can I say yes? Discarding Ware so callously for my own pleasure is exactly the sort of behavior my father excelled at. I could not live with myself if I acted so selfishly. Perhaps I would even grow to resent you for tempting me into such reckless deportment.”

“Amelia.” He straightened. “If I tell you that Ware would want nothing more than your happiness, it might alleviate your concern and goad your agreement, but that is not what I want.”

She frowned.

“Yes, we are acting impetuously,” he continued. “Yes, we are seizing the day and our love without a care for the world. That is who we are. That is our affinity. You and I are not ones to restrain our joys.”

“People cannot live in that manner.”

“Yes, they can. As long as doing so brings no pain to others.” His voice grew more impassioned, arresting her. “Ware does not love you, not as I do. And you do not love him. I also suspect that you do not love yourself, not as you should. You accused me of molding myself into someone I am not, yet you are guilty of the same offense. You seek to mold yourself into a woman of decorum and duty, but that is not who you are! Do not be ashamed of the facets of you that I love so much.”

“Welton was an awful man,” she cried. “I cannot be like him.”

“You never could be.” Colin caught up her hands. “You are filled with love for life and family. Your father was filled with love only for himself. Two very different things.”

“Ware . . .”

“Ware knows what I am doing. He could stop us if he wishes, but he won’t. Regardless, I am altering myself to have you. I am taking this day and you, and forsaking all of the rest. It is frightening, yes. We will both have to leave the cages we created fo

r ourselves and venture into the unknown. But we will have each other.”

Cages. She had been caged for so long, one part of her hating the restrictions, the other part grateful that they restrained her from being too much like Welton. “You know me so well,” she whispered.

“Yes, I know you better than anyone. You told me to believe that I was worthy of you. Now it is your turn to believe that you are worthy of me. Trust that you are free from whatever defect of character your father suffered. Trust that I am smart enough to love a wonderful woman.”

He pressed his lips to her knuckles. “Make the leap with me, Amelia. I am holding on to our love with both hands, despite all the reasons why I shouldn’t. Do the same. Embrace your wild nature and run with me. Be free with me. We shall all be happier for it.”

She gazed at him for a long moment, her vision blurring with tears. Then she threw herself into his arms.

“Yes,” she whispered with her cheek pressed to his. “Let’s be free.”

Christopher, Simon, and Ware were engrossed in a discussion when Maria burst into the room with her skirts held in one hand and a missive in the other.

All three men rose immediately. Christopher and Simon both stepped toward her with frowns marring their handsome features. Ware merely raised his brows.

“I found this atop Amelia’s pillow! Mitchell has absconded with her.”

Simon blinked. “Beg your pardon?”

“Truly?” Christopher smiled.