Four In Hand (Regencies 2)

A stifled sob brought his eyes to her, but she had averted her face. “Lizzie?” No lieutenant he had ever had to speak to had sobbed. Martin abruptly dropped his stance of stern mentor and gathered Lizzie into his arms. “Oh, sweetheart. Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Well, yes, I did. Just a bit. You upset me the devil of a lot when I thought you had run off with Keighly.”

Lizzie had muffled her face in his coat but she looked up at that. “You thought… But whyever did you think such a silly thing?”

Martin flushed slightly. “Well, yes. I know it was silly. But it was just the way it all came out At one stage, we weren’t sure who had gone in that blasted coach.” He paused for a moment, then continued in more serious vein. “But, really, sweetheart, you mustn’t start up these schemes to help people. Not when they involve sailing so close to the wind. You’ll set all sorts of people’s backs up, if ever they knew.”

Rather better acquainted with Lizzie than his brother was, Martin had no doubt at all whose impulse had started the whole affair. It might have been Arabella who had carried out most of the actions and Sarah who had worked out the details, but it was his own sweet Lizzie who had set the ball rolling.

Lizzie was hanging her head in contrition, her fingers idly playing with his coat buttons. Martin tightened his arms about her until she looked up. “Lizzie, I want you to promise me that if you ever get any more of these helpful ideas you’ll immediately come and tell me about them, before you do anything at all. Promise?”

Lizzie’s downcast face cleared and a smile like the sun lit her eyes. “Oh, yes. That will be safer.” Then,a thought struck her and her face clouded again. “But you might not be about. You’ll… well, now your wound is healed, you’ll be getting about more. Meeting lots of l-ladies and…things.”

“Things?” said Martin, struggling to keep a straight face. “What things?”

“Well, you know. The sort of things you do. With l-ladies.” At Martin’s hoot of laughter, she set her lips firmly and doggedly went on. “Besides, you might marry and your wife wouldn’t like it if I was hanging on your sleeve.” There, she had said it. Her worst fear had been brought into the light.

But, instead of reassuring her that all would, somehow, be well, Martin was in stitches. She glared at him. When that had no effect, she thumped him hard on his chest.

Gasping for breath, Martin caught her small fists and then a slow grin, very like his brother’s, broke across his face as he looked into her delightfully enraged countenance. He waited to see the confusion show in her fine eyes before drawing her hands up, pulling her hard against him and kissing her.

Lizzie had thought he had taught her all about kissing, but this was something quite different. She felt his arms lock like a vice about her waist, not that she had any intention of struggling. And the kiss went on and on. When she finally emerged, flushed, her eyes sparklin

g, all she could do was gasp and stare at him.

Martin uttered a laugh that was halfway to a groan. “Oh, Lizzie! Sweet Lizzie. For God’s sake, say you’ll marry me and put me out of my misery.”

Her eyes grew round. “Marry you?” The words came out as a squeak.

Martin’s grin grew broader. “Mmm. I thought it might be a good idea.” His eyes dropped from her face to the lace edging that lay over her breasts. “Aside from ensuring I’ll always be there for you to discuss your hare-brained schemes with,” he continued conversationally, “I could also teach you about all the things I do with ladies.”

Lizzie’s eyes widened as far as they possibly could.

Martin grinned devilishly. “Would you like that Lizzie?”

Mutely, Lizzie nodded. Then, quite suddenly, she found her voice. “Oh, yes!” She flung her arms about Martin’s neck and kissed him ferociously. Emerging from her wild embrace, Martin threw back his head and laughed. Lizzie did not, however, confuse this with rejection. She waited patiently for him to recover.

But, “Lizzie, oh Lizzie. What a delight you are!” was all Martin Rotherbridge said, before gathering her more firmly into his arms to explore her delights more thoroughly.

A considerable time later, when Martin had called a halt to their mutual exploration on the grounds that there were probably gardeners about, Lizzie sat comfortably in the circle of his arms, blissfully happy, and turned her thought to the future. “When shall we marry?” she asked

Martin, adrift in another world, came back to earth and gave the matter due consideration. If he had been asked the same question two hours ago, he would have considered a few months sufficiently soon. Now, having spent those two hours with Lizzie in unfortunately restrictive surroundings, he rather thought a few days would be too long to wait. But presumably she would want a big wedding, with all the trimmings.

However, when questioned, Lizzie disclaimed all interest in wedding breakfasts and the like. Hesitantly, not sure how he would take the suggestion, she toyed with the pin in his cravat and said, “Actually, I wonder if it would be possible to be married quite soon. Tomorrow, even?”

Martin stared at her.

“I mean,” Lizzie went on, “that there’s bound to be quite a few weddings in the family—what with Arabella and Sarah.”

“And Caroline,” said Martin.

Lizzie looked her question.

“Max has taken Caroline off somewhere. I don’t know where, but I’m quite sure why.”

“Oh.” Their recent occupation in mind, Lizzie could certainly see how he had come to that conclusion. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask for further clarification of the possibilities Caroline might encounter, but her tenacious disposition suggested she settle the question of her own wedding first. “Yes, well, there you are. With all the fuss and bother, I suspect we’ll be at the end of the list.”

Martin looked much struck by her argument.

“But,” Lizzie continued, sitting up as she warmed to her theme, “if we get married tomorrow, without any of the others knowing, then it’ll be done and we shan’t have to wait.” In triumph, she turned to Martin.