Chapter 8
Nellie bolted from the wooden bench. “What did you say?”
“Surely you realize it would be impossible for me to install you in my home in the country without causing irreparable damage to your reputation?”
“You think Society would believe I was . . . was . . .”
“A kept woman, Lady Annalise. Yes, Society would believe you were my mistress.”
“No. Society wouldn’t for a moment believe that.”
“Wouldn’t they?” he asked as if he knew something she didn’t. “What makes you think that?”
Nellie had been embarrassed by her looks several times in her life, but never had she been so completely mortified. Never had she been forced to point out what everyone except Hugh Wythers seemed to see. Never had she been forced to put into words that she understood how Society saw her, how even Lord Wythers had seen her the night he fell from the terrace. As a woman so plain and ordinary that most considered her . . . ugly.
“I cannot marry you, my lord,” she said past the lump in her throat. She knew what her refusal meant to not only herself but to Colette and Franklin. Yet, agreeing to his proposal would be the most degrading action she could take. She would live to regret taking his name as much as he would live to regret offering it.
“May I ask your reason?”
“Not one reason, my lord. But many.”
He hesitated several moments. “I see,” he answered on a drawl. “Then, may I ask your reasons?”
Nellie clutched her hands together in a viselike grip. “The first reason is that . . . you don’t want to marry me. No one in Society would understand how you could be forced to marry me. And you and I know they would think less of you for it.”
“Do you think I care one whit what Society thinks of me?”
“Perhaps you don’t, but I’m sure your mother and father do.”
Lord Wythers slashed his hand through the air. The action seemed so appropriate for him. Such an indication of his disregard for what anyone thought of his behavior. Even his family. Then he turned his focus on her.
“And what makes you so certain that I don’t want to marry you?”
Nellie was speechless. “How many reasons would you like?” she asked when she could find her voice.
“Three.”
His answer almost made her laugh. “Three?”
“Yes, three. I’ll wager you cannot come up with three reasons I don’t want to marry you.”
“Very well.” This was getting serious now. He was actually forcing her to convince him he couldn’t marry her. How ridiculous! “You don’t love me.”
“That’s not a credible answer,” he argued. “Few Society marriages begin with love.”
“Well, I would prefer mine did.”
“We don’t oft get what we prefer. If we did, my father wouldn’t have demanded I manage an estate to earn a living. If he hadn’t, we wouldn’t be having this discussion. And I wouldn’t be forced to convince you that marriage is the only solution to our problems. Besides,” he said with a lift of his eyebrows. “We don’t have to love each other. You’ll live in the country at Red Oaks, and I’ll remain in the City. It’s not as if we’ll have any contact with each other.”
He was correct. She’d known that from the start. So why did it hurt so much to hear it spoken so bluntly?
“Go on,” he said. “You still haven’t come up with one reason.”
Nellie thought. “Other than your friends, no one in Society knows we’re even acquainted. There’s no way they will ever believe you want to marry me.”
“Ha. That can be remedied right now.”
He held out his hand. He intended to escort her inside. “We’ll return to the ballroom, and I’ll parade around the room with you on my arm. Then, when the next waltz is played, I’ll ask you to dance and hold you scandalously close. Tongues will wag before the last strain of the waltz is finished, and we’ll be an item before the ball is over.”
“No!” Nellie refused to take his arm. “You are impossible.”
“Of course I am,” he admitted with a heart-stopping smile that stole her breath. “That’s what landed me in this situation.”
“Which is where I intend to leave you.”
“No, you don’t, Anna—” He stopped and looked at her. “Annalise is entirely too formal a name. What does your family call you?”
“They call me Nellie. But you may call me Anna—”
“Perfect. As I was saying, Nellie.” He smiled. “No, you don’t. You don’t intend to turn me down, because you can’t. It would destroy your family. And you couldn’t live with yourself if you thought only of yourself.”
Nellie walked to the furthest spot away from Lord Wythers. When she reached the opposite side of the pavilion, she braced her hands on the smoothly painted railing and looked out into the darkness. They were both silent for several long, tense moments. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
She knew the one reason she could give him to get this foolish notion out of his head, although she was loath to have to say it. But he’d given her no choice.
Without turning, she stiffened her back and squared her shoulders. “There is one reason for us not to marry that you cannot argue against.”
“Name it.”
“Your future heir.” Nellie swallowed past the lump in her throat. “You may not think you want a son to pass on your name, but the day will come when that will be something you desire.”
“Are you saying you refuse to have a child with me?”
That did shock her. She turned to face him as if he’d turned into a ball of fire and singed the hair from her body. “What?”
“I asked if you would refuse to have a child with me.”
Nellie opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She couldn’t believe he would go so far as to . . . that he would want to make her his wife in the true sense of the word. Surely, he didn’t.
“Do you want children, Nellie?”
“Of course, my lord, but I—”
“Then I will give you a child.”
Nellie stepped to the nearest bench and dropped down when her legs gave out from beneath her. Her body trembled uncontrollably. She’d never received such a shock in her life.
“We will consummate our marriage, Nellie. Our vows may be exchanged over a special license and our living conditions an enigma to Society, but our marriage will be legal and binding in every sense of the word. We will consummate our marriage, and I will continue to bed you until you are certain you are with child. If you wish, I will return to you often enough to give you a second child.”
Her eyes filled with tears, and she looked up to the rafters to keep them from spilling down her cheeks.
“Why?” she said when she was able. “Why would you think to give me children?”
He laughed.
His laughter was deep and rich, as if he’d just heard the end line of a marvelous witticism. “What? Do you think I’m such a bastard that I would take you for my wife, haul you off to the country, and force you to do all the work so I can live a life of comfort in London, without offering you anything in return? Do you think that little of me?”
“It’s not that I think little of you. That isn’t what we agreed upon,” she said hesitantly. “What I wanted when I came to you was a business arrangement. That I would manage Red Oaks for you so my sister and her husband would not have to leave us. I knew when we made the agreement that you intended to remain in London. I didn’t expect more.”
“I know you didn’t. You never expect more. It’s what makes you so special.”
Special. He’d called her special.
Nellie embraced the word in a way that startled her. She’d never experienced a compliment of that magnitude. At least not from a man. And certainly not from a man the likes of Hugh Wythers. It warmed her to her soul and set her smiling from somewhere deep inside.
They remained where they were for several moments. Nellie seated on the bench, Lord Wythers standing near her.
“Do you have an answer for me now?”
Nellie lifted her gaze. “Will you allow me a day to make a decision?”
“Of course,” he answered, then held out his hand for her to take.
Nellie placed her hand in his and rose. He didn’t move, and neither did she. She tipped her chin upward to look at him, and he locked his gaze with hers and held it.
“There’s something else I thought of that we’ve not shared.”
His gaze lowered to her mouth and for a moment Nellie thought he might kiss her. But of course he wouldn’t. She wouldn’t expect one of the most handsome men in London to kiss her. Not when he wasn’t completely foxed.
Then, he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers.
His lips touched hers with a tentative warmth that was strangely satisfying. His touch was gentle at first, as if he knew she was inexperienced at kissing and wanted to give her time to accustom herself to his touch.
Without words, he lifted his mouth and brought her arms up around his neck. Then he brought his lips back to hers.
An emotion Nellie had never felt before swirled through her as if the blood racing through her veins was suddenly a molten heat. Her heartbeat quickened. Her stomach shifted as if a thousand butterflies had taken frantic flight.
She wanted to show restraint, but that was impossible. He continued to kiss her, and for some reason she couldn’t explain, it was important that she get as close to him as possible.
She leaned into his hard, muscular body, and he tightened his hold on her, then brought her closer to him.
He kissed her again, then separated himself from her. His palm cupped her cheek. Then, with a deep moan, he brought his lips down on hers and kissed her again.
His kisses deepened as if he wanted more from her, as if there was more he could give her. His hands moved over her body, leaving a fiery trail, and she lifted one hand and raked her fingers through his thick, silky hair.
Nellie heard another moan, only this time the low keening sound came from her.
“Nellie,” he muttered, then kissed her once more before he lifted his lips from hers. He brought her close to him and held her as if he knew she would fall if he didn’t support her. “Bloody hell,” he whispered in a soft voice she was sure he didn’t want her to hear.
She didn’t know what he meant. She’d thought the kisses they’d shared had been the most magical moments of her life. But she wasn’t sure he thought the same. Perhaps he’d been disappointed.
She wouldn’t know, though. He was quiet as he led her back to the house. When they reached the ballroom, he didn’t let her enter first so people wouldn’t know they’d been together, but walked in with her on his arm.
Every pair of eyes in the room seemed to open wide when they saw the two of them together. Every jaw on every face seemed to drop.
And every hand cupped to their mouth as they whispered their shock and disbelief.
Nellie looked up, expecting to see a mortified expression on Hugh’s face. Instead, he looked down on her and . . . smiled.