Ask for It (Georgian 1)

And his reward was sweet indeed.

“Good God!”

Elizabeth jumped awake at the familiar, albeit horrified cry. Marcus’s outstretched arm pushed her back down and she gasped at the sight of the wicked knife in his hand. She lifted her head and looked toward the door, gaping at the sight of the beloved figure there. “William?”

Her brother stood with a hand clasped over his eyes. “I will await”—he choked—“you both in the parlor. Please . . . dress.”

With her brain still sleep muddled, Elizabeth slipped out of bed, shivering as her bare feet hit the cold floor. “I often tell myself that William cannot possibly become more outrageous and yet somehow he manages it.”

“Elizabeth.”

She ignored the soft query in Marcus’s tone and moved swiftly to her discarded night rail at the foot of the bed. It was awkward, this moment, recalling the intimacy of the night before and the brazen way she’d elicited his promise. To wake to the sight of a blade in his hand was sobering. She’d agreed to marry this man, for no other reason than sexual affinity and misplaced possessiveness. She was daft.

“You can stay abed, love,” he murmured. “I can speak with your brother.”

Straightening with her garment in hand, Elizabeth paused at the sight him pulling on breeches. As he moved, the ripple of honed muscle along his arms, chest, and abdomen arrested her gaze.

He glanced up, caught her staring, and smiled. “You are a fetching sight, all sleep mussed and ravished.”

“I’m certain I look a fright,” she said.

“Impossible. I’ve yet to see you look anything but delectable.”

He rounded the bed, took the night rail from her hands, and dropped it over her head. Then he kissed the tip of her nose. “Nowise did I plan for us to be rushed this morning.” Shaking his head, he moved to the armoire and finished dressing. “Keep the bed warm and wait for me.”

“It would be best if you learned now that I won’t be ordered about. William is my brother. I will speak to him.”

Marcus sighed internally at Elizabeth’s stubbornness, acknowledging to himself that he would have to grow accustomed to it, and went to the door. “As you wish, love.”

He raked her barely clad body with an affectionate glance before closing the portal behind him and traversing the length of the hall. He really shouldn’t be surprised they’d been discovered, but he was, and disappointed. Their agreement was too new, the tie too tentative to set his mind at ease.

The first time he’d proposed he’d sat in the study of Chesterfield Hall and discussed the marital disbursements in cold, hard facts with her father. The banns had been read, and the papers notified. Teas and dinners had been held. He could not have expected she would bolt. He could not have anticipated she would marry another man. And at this moment he had far less than he’d had then. At this moment he had only her promise and she had proven that was not to be trusted.

Years of frustration and anger rose like bile in his throat. Until she made restitution for what she’d done to him he would never find peace.

He entered the parlor. “Barclay, your timing leaves much to be desired. You are—quite lamentably—de trop.”

William paced before the fireplace, his hands clasped at his back. “I am scarred for life,” he muttered.

“A knock would have been wise.”

“The door was open.”

“Well it’s moot in any case; you shouldn’t have come.”

“Elizabeth had run off.” William stopped and glared.

“After the tantrum in her room, I had to find her and see if she was well.”

Marcus ran his hands through his tumbled locks. He couldn’t fault the man for caring. “She sent word. I suppose I should have as well.”

“At the very least. Debauching someone else’s sister would also be preferable.”

“I am not debauching her. I’m marrying her.”

William gaped. “Again?”

“We never quite finished the business the last time, if you recall.”

“Damn you, Westfield.” William’s fists clenched until the knuckles were white. “If this has anything to do with that idiotic wager, I will call you out.”

Rounding the settee, Marcus sat and bit back the harsh words that longed to be freed. “Your sterling estimation of my character is most uplifting.”

“Why in hell would you want to wed Elizabeth after what transpired before?”

“We have an affinity,” Elizabeth said from the doorway, studying the two men who held such important places in her life—both of them so obviously restless. “Or so he attests.”

“An affinity?” William pierced her with a narrowed gaze. “What the devil does that have to do with anything?”

Then he paled and held up his hands. “On further consideration, I don’t wish to hear the answer to that.”

She didn’t move, simply stood in the doorway trying to decide whether to enter or not. The tension in the room was as thick as fog. “Where is Margaret?”

“At home. The journey wouldn’t be wise for her now. She becomes ill easily.”

“You should be with her,” she admonished.

“I was worried about you,” he said defensively. “Especially when Westfield conveniently disappeared at the same time. Your missive told me nothing of your mind-set or your location. You are both damned fortunate that Lady Westfield saw fit to give me direction.” He crossed the room to her and gripped her elbow. “Come outside with me.”

“It’s too cold,” she protested.

William shrugged out of his coat and tossed it about her shoulders. Then he dragged her outside.

“Are you daft?” he growled when they were alone. The chilly bite of the coastal morning was rivaled by the chill of her brother’s tone.

“I thought so earlier,” she said dryly.

“I understand. You’ve had a taste of . . .” he choked, “carnal pleasure, one denied you before. It can be heady and unduly influencing for women.”

“William—”

“It’s hopeless to deny it. A man can discern these things. Women look different when they are content with their lovers. You lacked that appearance with Hawthorne.”

“This is a very uncomfortable conversation,” she muttered.

“I am enjoying this as much as I would a visit to the tooth drawers. But I must beg you to consider this engagement further. There was a reason why you didn’t proceed with the marriage before.”

Elizabeth looked at the sky, seeing soft blue peeking from the heavy morning clouds. She wondered if she could learn to look for brightness in a marriage that would be rife with cloudy issues.

“You could refuse,” he suggested, softening his tone to match her mood.

“Even I am not that cruel.” She sighed and leaned into him, accepting the strength he’d always provided.

“You don’t

wed to alleviate guilt. And I’m not so certain his intentions are honorable. He has much to hold against you. Once you wed him, I would have very little recourse should things deteriorate.”

“You know Westfield better than to attribute such thoughts to him.” She returned his scowl. “Honestly, there are many times I cannot abide the man. He’s arrogant to a fault, stubborn, argumentive—”

“Yes, I agree, he has his faults, all of which I know well.”

“If he recovers some of his lost dignity by wedding me, I won’t hold it against him. At worst, should he lose interest, he’ll simply treat me with the faultless, albeit distant charm for which he’s known. He would never physically hurt me.”

William blew out a frustrated breath and tilted his head back to look at the sky. “I still cannot find comfort in this. I wanted you to find love the second time. You are free to choose whomever you like. Why settle for ‘affinity’ when you can have true happiness?”

“You are becoming as much of a romantic as Margaret.” Elizabeth shook her head and laughed. “There are times when Westfield’s company is quite pleasant.”

“So, enjoy a liaison,” William suggested. “Much less messy all around.”

Her smile was bittersweet. The fact was, Marcus was one of the very few individuals strong enough to stand up to William. She needed to show her brother she was in safekeeping with a man he could trust to be capable. Then perhaps he would worry about her less. Margaret needed him now, as would their child. If there had been any doubt about her forthcoming marriage, it was dispelled by her brother’s presence here. He could not continue to leave his wife to care for his sister.

“I want to marry him, William. I don’t think I’ll be unhappy.”

“You are using him to hide. If you choose a man who dislikes you, you have no worries about something more coming of the relationship. Our father has done you a grave injustice with his decline. You are still afraid.”

She lifted her chin. “I understand you don’t approve of my choice, but that’s no reason to malign me.”

“I’m speaking the truth, something perhaps it would have been best to do long before now.”