Mistress - Amanda Quick [133]
Iphiginia gazed at him very steadily. “Is that the reason you wish to marry me, sir? I would sooner return to Deepford than be wed in order to silence the threat of scandal.”
“No,” Marcus said. “It is not why I wish to marry you. I wish to marry you because you are the only woman I know who can keep me from becoming a clockwork man.”
“Marcus.” Iphiginia was shocked at the analogy. “You cannot mean that.”
“But I do mean it.” He hesitated, as though gathering himself to jump off a cliff into a roiling sea. “I need you to keep me from becoming a victim of my own rules, Iphiginia.”
Iphiginia felt the talons of his deeply buried torment as though it were her own flesh they pierced. She knew without a trace of doubt what his admission had cost him.
Another rule broken, no doubt, she thought.
She got to her feet and went around the corner of her desk. She stepped into his arms and framed his hard face with her hands.
“Marcus, pay close attention. You are in no danger of becoming an automaton. You are a warm, passionate man with extremely refined sensibilities.”
“Do you think so?” The dark intensity vanished from his voice. He grinned briefly. “Well, in that case, it would probably be best not to delay our marriage. I’m not at all certain my refined sensibilities could withstand the strain of waiting.”
“No.” Iphiginia stood on tiptoe to brush her lips against his faintly curved mouth. “We would not want to stifle your warm, passionate nature any longer than necessary.”
“Or yours.” Marcus folded her into an unshakable hold and kissed her thoroughly.
He deepened the kiss until Iphiginia sighed softly and went limp in his arms.
“I love you, Marcus,” she murmured against his throat.
She was not certain he had heard her, but when he raised his head a moment later, his eyes were the color of ancient amber. “I shall come for you at three tomorrow. I trust you will be ready.”
Iphiginia smiled. “Should I wear white?”
“You may wear whatever you wish.” Marcus moved reluctantly away from her to scoop his hat up off her desk. “Or nothing at all. Good night, Iphiginia. I shall look forward to tomorrow night. Do you realize that it will be the first time we will be able to make love in a bed?”
“How very convenient should you suffer another collapse after the event, my lord.”
“Adam will be coming by again today at five o’clock to take me for a drive in the park,” Amelia announced at breakfast the following morning. “What do you think I should wear, Iphiginia?”
Iphiginia frowned over the gossip column in the morning paper. The article she had been reading featured a very recognizable “Mrs. B” and an equally obvious “Lord M.” The news of the impending nuptials had been related in arch prose.
The Polite World is agog this morning to learn that Lord M. has reportedly broken his most infamous rule …
“What did you say, Amelia?”
“I said, will you help me select something to wear for a drive in the park this afternoon?”
Iphiginia looked up and saw the hopeful anticipation in her cousin’s eyes. She smiled.
“You and I are very near the same size,” Iphiginia said. “You shall wear my saffron yellow walking gown and the pale yellow pelisse that goes with it. The color will be perfect on you.”
Amelia’s eyes widened. “But you have not yet had an opportunity to wear that gown and pelisse yourself.”
“It is yours with my blessings.” Iphiginia refolded the newspaper and set it aside.
“Very kind.”
“Think nothing of it. We must both go shopping as soon as possible. You need some brighter gowns and I am weary of white.”
“It is very becoming on you.”
“Thank you, but white attire grows exceedingly dull after a while. I do not know why the ancients favored it.” Iphiginia paused. “You look very happy, Amelia.”
“I am happy.” Amelia smiled slowly, as though surprised by the fact. “Do you know, I have not felt this … this unburdened in years. To think that I was always terrified of coming face-to-face with Dodgson again. Yet when it actually happened, I experienced nothing but acute loathing and disgust.”