Christian opened his mouth to respond, but couldn’t. Of course he had no wish to marry, especially not the granddaughter of the man responsible for his mother’s death. Still, looking down at Beth as she sat on the bench, surrounded by flowers, her silk gown a perfect foil for her honey-colored hair and brown eyes, he was struck with the most amazing thought—why shouldn’t he marry her? Life with Beth would be one of excitement and challenge. She was beautiful and charming. And there was an instant rapport between them that he’d never before experienced.

Startled at the thought, he forced himself to smile. “I am not sure I follow your meaning.”

“I have an idea to save us both from this predicament, but it will take your cooperation. Do I have it?”

“What is your idea?”

“We must see this engagement as nothing more than a minor setback. All we have to do is accept Grandfather’s orders, but just pretend we’re willing to marry. Then, before any serious plans have been made or the banns posted, I will cry off.” Her smile faded. “Of course, that will make me look sadly frivolous.”

He laughed softly. “My love, you are frivolous. I have yet to see you wear the same pair of shoes twice.”

Her cheeks heated. “I don’t own that many!”

Christian chuckled. “Don’t eat me! They are lovely shoes, all of them.” He leaned forward a little, his shoulder rubbing against her and sending a thick heat into the air about them. “I especially love the blue satin heels with gold trim. One day, I may have you wear those for me—”

Beth managed a smile. “I would be honored.”

“—with nothing else on.”

For a moment, she could only stare up at him. “With nothing else on? That’s—that’s—that’s—”

“Sensual? Exciting? Stimulating? Exhilar—”

“Obscene.”

“Nonsense. It’s perfectly acceptable.” He leaned back, stretching his arm behind her, his shoulder temptingly near. Hell, he was engaged to her, was he not? Why shouldn’t he put his arm about her?

“This is not a proper conversation.”

“Nonsense,” he said again, laying his arm across her shoulders, enjoying the way her scent rose about her, as fresh and fragrant as the flowers. “We are now engaged to be married, my love. This is all perfectly acceptable.”

She took his hand and lifted it over her head and placed it on his own lap. “You, sir, are taking advantage of a very distressful situation.”

“I am merely enjoying a happy happenstance, is all. Shouldn’t I do that? See the bright side of things?”

“There is no bright side of this. We must find a way to convince Grandfather not to post the banns. Otherwise—” Beth clamped her mouth together, unwilling to continue with that line of thought. “We must try this.”

He looked at her for a long moment, his eyes shadowed, hidden. She wondered what he was thinking, what sober thoughts held him.

Finally, he shrugged. “Very well. We will see if your plan works.”

“It will be easy. We will simply put him off about the date—I shall argue that I need a better gown or that lilies won’t be in bloom and then, when the scandal has faded, you and I shall have a huge row and finish this charade. We will never have to speak again.”

He didn’t answer.

“Was—I mean, Christian. What do you think? Is that not a plausible plan?”

“It is certainly desperate,” he said in an emotionless voice. “But I suppose I do not blame you. Being married under such circumstances is not what anyone would wish.”

Her chest tightened. “No. It is not. I just thought…this way, we escape the marriage, but you will have the opportunity to search the house. Everyone will expect you to visit me. Grandfather stays in the library and cannot walk upstairs without assistance. And Charlotte stays in her room. So we should be able to look without interference. The only problem will be the servants.”

Christian’s gaze met hers. “You have thought of everything, haven’t you?” he said.

“I tried to,” she replied.

He nodded, offering no comment, though he seemed far from pleased.

Beth bit her lip. She truly wished to assist him. Once they ascertained the necklace was not at Massingale House, Beth wondered if she could help Christian in looking for it elsewhere. There had to be some clues he was missing, some evidence he had misinterpreted for him to think the culprit was Grandfather.

“Westerville, what do you say? Are you willing to help me convince Grandfather to wait on the barns?”

“It’s Christian to you, my love.” His gaze heated, though he smiled. “I am glad you agreed to do the crying off. When a man does it, he is considered a cad. When a woman does the crying off, she is considered to have come to her senses and made an escape from a Bad Situation.”

Her lips quivered just a bit and Christian was encouraged to add, “I do not know why that is so, but I’ve seen it time and again.”

The smile didn’t come all the way to fruition, but some of the tension left her expression. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so weak-livered.”

“You? Weak?” He waved a hand. “Perish the thought.”

“Yes, well…you seem to be taking this in much better part than I.”

“Perhaps I am just better at hiding my fear. No matter who you are, it’s daunting to realize how close we are to being marched will ye nill ye to the altar.”

She looked at him for a long, level moment. He took the opportunity to admire the sweep of her lashes; thick and dark brown, they complemented her fair coloring no small amount.

“My lord, I do not think anyone could ever make you do something you don’t want to do, especially something as important as marriage.”

“No one could make you, either, unless you allow them. To be honest, when I spoke to your grandfather, he did not seem all that certain of his ability to make you follow his wishes.”

She smiled a little. “I could refuse him and he knows it. Still, it would be a battle of no small order.”

“Two stubborn people, locked horn to horn. I daresay it would be a sight worth seeing.”

A chuckle burst from her lips, her eyes crinkling charmingly. “It would not be worth seeing at all. He would bluster and thunk his cane on the floor, all red in the face, while I glared and snapped at him like an angry turtle.”

He had to laugh at that picture.

She leaned back on her hands, the sun filtering through the leaves of the tree, a look of sudden realization warming her expression. “You are right, though. Grandfather cannot make me wed. I just want to ease out of it without having to fight with him. He—he is not well.”

Christian nodded. He’d thought the same when he’d first met the man. “This whole episode was a bit of a shock to you and me. The thought of marriage makes me queasy. In fact, I am feeling a bit ill right now.”

Her eyes glimmered with humor. “You are not.”

“I vow it. I am ill to my stomach at the thought of marrying you.” He grinned. “Very.”

She gave a prim sniff. “I do not blame you one bit; you would hate being married to me.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“I am short tempered in the mornings before I’ve had my tea.”

“So am I.”

“I sneeze every time I step out into the garden.”

“How horrid.”

“I am not very good at lawn tennis, either.”

He raised his brows. “Anything else?”

This time, her gaze locked with his. “I would not accept carousing in a husband.”

“I would not carouse were I a husband.”

“Never?” Disbelief dripped from her tones.

“Never. Which is why I’m not married and have no intention of doing so.”

She pursed her lips. “That is a big statement.”

“It is a deeply felt one. Tell me honestly; have you ever seen a marriage worth emulating?”

“My parents. I don’t remember much, but even my grandfather says they were deeply in love. After Mother died, Father just…stopped.”

“He remarried, didn’t he?”

“Yes. Years later, to Charlotte.” She gave a rueful smile. “It was difficult giving up the position of Only Female in Residence. I fear I was a little spoiled and made it difficult on her at first.”

“That is about the same time my mother was incarcerated.”

Beth’s eyes darkened. “That had to have been much more difficult. I am sorry, Christian.”

He shook his head. “We were talking about you. Is your stepmother good to you?”

“Yes. She and I aren’t close, of course. We’re too different to become true friends. But we brush along well enough. Grandfather says Father never cared for Charlotte as he did for Mother.” A troubled look entered Beth’s eyes. “I’ve always thought that was why Charlotte—” She caught Christian’s gaze and blushed. “Never mind. You don’t want to know about that.”

But he did. He wanted to know everything there was to know about this woman. It was odd, but the more he saw of her, the more he wanted to find out all of her little foibles, her likes and dislikes, what colors she loved, which flowers she adored…he wanted to know all of it as if that would help him capture some small essence of her. Something he could take with him when he finally had to leave.

The pressure in his chest deepened. She was so sweet, so remarkable. Yet she didn’t even know it.

Something inside him loosened, then broke. A surge of emotions sent Christian forward. He leaned down and gently placed his lips to hers. She willingly accepted it, her face turning up to meet his. It was a remarkably chaste kiss considering some of their other kisses. But it was sensual all the same.

For Beth, it was something more. A promise of a sort. The sealing of a companionship that had started far before they’d ever met.

His lips were firm and warm against hers, his scent rising to fill her with a longing for…something. Something new. Something exciting.

Lately, she’d lived a life of dreams. She’d been dressed and pressed, riding in the best carriages and attending the best soirées and balls. But somehow, that wasn’t living. Going through the motions of polite society was about acting, not being. And for once in her life, she wanted something more. She wanted to just be.

The viscount’s kiss was that something more. She was no longer just watching others. Instead, she felt alive in a way she never had. Her entire body pulsed with awareness, her mind whirled with passions and thoughts so rapid they pressed her onward. Before she knew what she was about, she’d thrown herself into the kiss, twining her arms about Christian’s neck and pressing herself against him. She wanted more of this, more of him.

A deep groan sounded in his throat and then his hand found the back of her neck, his warm fingers pulling her forward. He deepened the kiss, opening his mouth ever so slightly, his lips warm and deliciously firm over hers.

Heated sensations burned through her. Beth shivered when Christian raked his tongue over her teeth. Her body tightened and tingled, hot and cold warring for release.

His hand slid from her neck to her shoulder, then down her back, trailing waves of passion. There was something about this man with his wild handsomeness and the wounded look deep in his eyes that made her crave his touch as a starving man craved food.

Suddenly he released her and then rose from the bench, turning on his heel and stalking down the path a short way.

Beth was left half reclining on the bench, her hair unbound, her heart thundering in her chest.

Two things dawned on her in rapid succession. First, she had not wished Christian to stop. Second, even now, without the distraction of his warm mouth on hers, she couldn’t think of a single reason to stop. They were engaged, weren’t they? Surely such exchanges as this were normal between engaged couples?

He flicked a look at her, his brow lowering as he took in her mussed hair. “You may need a comb.”

Beth smoothed her hair with hands that shook slightly. “I look as if I’ve been kissed, which I have been. And if I cannot be kissed by my fiancé, then who should kiss me?”

He didn’t smile. Instead, he passed a hand over his face and sighed. “Beth, we cannot keep doing this. I cannot stop it every time.”

“I know.” She bit her lip. “Christian, I am sorry. I just thought that since we were engaged—”

“It’s not real!” His voice rang harshly through the garden.

She stiffened, color high in her cheeks. “I know.”

A deep silence filled the garden. Somewhere in the distance, a bird trilled, then silence once again.

Finally, Christian sighed. “I am sorry. I didn’t come here to argue with you or—” He shook his head. “I came to give you something.” He reached into his coat and pulled out a packet. He brought it to her. “This is the information I told you about. I put a letter with it, describing the importance of each piece. I want you to understand why I must search the house. Why I think your grandfather is guilty of a great crime.”

She took the packet, the foolscrap cool and crisp. She rubbed her fingers over the ribbon that bound them all together.

“I need that packet back.” Christian nodded at the letters. “In a way, the letters are all I have of my mother.”

Beth nodded. “I will take care of them, I promise.”

“Thank you. Now, I must go.”

“Don’t you want to go inside?” Beth stood and placed the letters into a pocket in the folds of her gown. “Grandfather has been looking for you.”

“Unless I mistake my guess, he has seen me. He has been staring out that large window on the far end ever since I arrived.”

Beth smiled. “It’s a good thing the arbor hides us from view.”

“Indeed. Beth, I…thank you for reading the missives and hearing what I have to say. That means a lot.”

“I agreed to help you find your mother’s betrayer. We will keep our deal from the billiard room.”

For a long moment, he did not speak. When he finally did, his words were thick with emotion. “Thank you. I must go.” He turned to leave.

“But Grandfather—”

“I will speak with him tomorrow,” Christian said over his shoulder, walking even more quickly now. All too soon, he disappeared down the path. She heard the slap of his boots on the pathway, then the distant click of the side gate followed by the unmistakable sound of a carriage being sprung as he raced off.

Beth sank back on the bench, her thoughts whirling. Her gaze fell on the now-empty teacup. At some point, it had been knocked off the bench and lay on its side in a thick patch of grass. She picked it up and placed the delicate china back on the tray.

Tomorrow, he’d said. That would have to be soon enough. She reached into her pocket and took out the packet. Slowly, she undid the ribbon.

 

Christian stepped down from his carriage, deep in thought. Every time he got physically close to Beth, she drew him to her in other, less definable ways.

But what really bothered him was the way she spoke to him, as if they were…equals. Companions. Partners.

He paused on the top step, realizing that the carriage was still sitting at the curb. He frowned at the coachman. “You may take the carriage to the stables. I will not need it again today.”

The footman exchanged a startled glance with the coachman. They looked so shocked that a wave of irritation tightened Christian’s jaw. Good God, did everyone around him think him a complete and utter wastrel?

The footman cleared his throat. “My lord, are you certain you don’t wish us to just wait? ’Tis fairly early and you might wish to go out again and—”

“Take the carriage to the stables. I am done for the night.”

“But…’tis only four in the afternoon, my lord!”

“I have a damned watch!”

The footman jumped back a step and began bowing profusely. “Yes, my lord! I’m sorry, my lord! I just didn’t think—”

Reeves opened the door. He looked from the flustered footman to Christian’s stern visage and carefully stepped back out of the way. “Welcome home, Lord Westerville. I thought I heard voices.”

Christian entered his house and took off his gloves and hat. “I was having a discussion about my evening habits.”

“Of course,” Reeves said soothingly. He glanced down the steps at the coachman and footman who stood stock-still on the walk below. “His Lordship will call if he needs you.” With that, he shut the door with a sharp snap and turned to Christian. “I shall inform the cook you will be home for the rest of the evening. He will be shocked as well, but perhaps he can find something worthy for your dinner.”

“Thank you,” Christian snapped, turning toward the library.

The butler murmured some instructions to a footman, then followed. “Since you will be staying home this evening, would you like a fire lit in the dining room?”

“Whatever you wish.” Christian sat in a chair by the window and stared sightlessly at the carriages and horses riding by.

Reeves watched him a moment, then busied himself adding to the fire. After a few moments, he said, “Did you find Her Ladyship at home?”

“Yes. In the garden, to be precise.”

“And the duke?”

“I didn’t see him. As I was rounding the bend of the drive, I saw Lady Elizabeth among her roses, so I met her there.” She’d looked damnably attractive, sitting among the greenery, too. He rubbed a hand over his face, wondering why things seemed more complicated now. They weren’t, really. They were, in fact, better. She’d agreed to call off the wedding before it happened and had offered to assist him still in looking for the necklace. Surely that was cause for celebration?

Instead, he felt like the biggest heel on earth.

“My lord, you appear almost glum.” Reeves came to stand beside Christian. “I must assume your meeting with Her Ladyship went poorly.”

“No. It went fine. Better than fine, I just—” Christian leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Reeves, you were right. I should never have used Lady Elizabeth to reach her grandfather. It was dishonorable of me.”

No answer was made.

“I made a horrible error, one I cannot fix. And now we are to marry, although she is working on a way to break off the engagement.”

“Is she indeed, my lord?”

“Yes. I cannot allow her to do that, of course. She would be ruined. Of course, she would be ruined anyway, marrying me. I am not fit for marriage. I…cannot.” Christian rested his head in his hands and waited. After a while, he lifted his head and asked, “Did you hear me?”

“Yes, my lord. You said I was right and you were wrong and that if you could undo it, you would.”

Christian frowned. “I didn’t say that, exactly.”

“Perhaps it was just my imagination. I sometimes daydream, you know.”

“Well…I would undo it, you know. But I cannot. I just wanted you to know that from now on, I will heed your advice more.”

Reeves’s gaze dropped to Christian’s waistcoat. “Indeed, my lord?”

“Except in matters of dress.”

Reeves sighed. “I knew there would be a caveat, my lord. There always is.”

Despite everything, Christian had to smile, though it was not a large one. “I will tell you one more thing, too.”

“I await with bated breath, my lord,” Reeves said dryly.

“You were right about Lady Elizabeth, too. She is quite special.”

“Indeed, my lord. One has but to see her to know that. Innocence is a difficult trait to hide.”

Innocence. Christian considered this a moment. She was innocent, indeed. But she was also intelligent, sensual, and generous. He thought it was perhaps that last aspect of her character that engaged him the most; she effortlessly gave of herself—her thoughts, her abilities, her heart.

But innocent? That did not quite describe the quality that gave her that soft glow. It was more the quality of goodness.

For a man who’d once lived in the cold and dirty alleyways and back streets of London and knew hardship as a way of life, someone who had sold his soul so many times, he had long since given up hope of getting it back, Beth’s generous spirit was almost overwhelming. And yet…he craved it. Craved her.

Christian caught Reeves’s questioning gaze. “She is one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever known.”

“I would have to agree,” Reeves said reflectively. “Lady Elizabeth is quite beautiful, perhaps the most beautiful of all the women I’ve had the pleasure of meeting.”

“Have you met many?”

“Your father was a very well-known and well-liked man. He never lacked for female companionship.”

Some of the humor left Christian. “Then they must not have known him.”

“Precisely, my lord. And once they did, they left.”

Christian frowned. “Like my mother?”

Reeves bowed.

“Really? I always thought he had left her.”

“He begged her to return but she would not. And frankly, I do not blame her. He was innately selfish. I do not think he could change, even if he wished to.” Reeves paused. “I have often thought that the facility to change, to adapt for the better, was a trait to be valued. It is what makes us redeemable.”

Christian considered this. “Perhaps I have been inflexible, though I still believe Beth’s grandfather to blame for Mother’s death. The evidence—I think Beth will have to agree once she reads all of it.”

Christian stirred restlessly, wishing he could see her again now. He glanced at the clock and frowned. It was early yet. He rubbed his fingers together, realizing that he found being “respectable” onerous. God, how he missed riding the heath, the flash of a sword in the moonlight, the shrill cries of the outriders.

There was nothing more exciting than that. Or was there? He had an instant vision of Beth this afternoon, sitting in her garden, the soft breeze stirring her hair, the scent of lilies and roses all about. What was she doing now? he wondered. He pictured her in the garden, reading the missives he’d left with her. Would she be shocked to find that her grandfather was, in fact, responsible for a crime?

He frowned. He hoped she was not too upset at the thought. Because of Beth and her unique way of experiencing life, he was beginning to think his own existence a little lacking.

Something stirred in his breast, something warm and expanding. Something a little like love.

By Zeus, where in the hell had that thought come from? Christian shook his head to dislodge the ridiculous idea.

“My lord?” Reeves appeared concerned. “Are you well? Does your head pain you?”

“No, no. I am fine. I just had a stupid thought, is all.”

“Ah. And what was that thought, my lord? I take it that it did not have anything to do with wearing that black waistcoat?”

“It had nothing to do with clothing.”

“A pity,” Reeves said with a long-suffering sigh. “If you were not thinking of clothing, then your thought must have had something to do with Lady Elizabeth.”

“Reeves, I am not going to tell you anything.”

“Yes, my lord.” Reeves walked toward the door. “Though it is a pity…”

“What’s a pity?”

“That you will miss so much sleep. Unsettled thoughts will fester in the night air and leave one tossing and turning. I have seen it many times.” With that cheery thought, Reeves opened the door. “I shall be just outside if you decide you wish to discuss the matter further.”

Christian glared at the closed door but did not move to call Reeves back in. The butler was probably right and there would be little sleep tonight. But Christian was not going to share such a preposterous idea, one born, no doubt, from the difficult situation he and Beth found themselves in.

He needed to focus on finding that damnable necklace, and then he could extricate himself from Beth’s life and they would all be the better for it. Tomorrow, when he saw her, he would be all business. Never again would he succumb to the temptation of a kiss.