Courtship Wars: To Pleasure A Lady Part 31

Arabella bit her lower lip as she gazed out at the pa.s.sing countryside. At least Sybil's company saved her from the temptation of any further intimacy with Marcus.

She still felt the urge to throttle the girl, but even so, she was very glad for her presence until she could make it home to her sisters.

Chapter Sixteen.

I am ten times a fool for letting myself fall in love again.

-Arabella to f.a.n.n.y It was late afternoon by the time they were able to settle Sybil with Lady Freemantle and return to Danvers Hall in her ladyship's coach. Alone with Marcus on the drive home, Arabella was very aware of him sitting beside her. The nerves twisting her stomach tightened further when the carriage rumbled to a halt before the manor, for she felt his penetrating blue gaze appraising her.

"Thank you for helping me rescue Sybil," she said to break the tension.

"Don't regard it. I was glad to oblige."

Pushing open the door, Marcus descended and then handed Arabella down. At his mere touch, she felt herself shiver with desire. Thank heavens their wager was nearly over. She had only one more evening to get through.

"Forgive me if I leave you so abruptly," Arabella murmured. "I need to find my sisters and set their minds at ease about Sybil."

"Of course," Marcus said mildly as she preceded him across the gravel drive to the front steps. "But I would like to speak with you privately before dinner. Why don't you join me in my study in an hour?"

"Very well," Arabella replied before hurrying into the house.

As she expected, her sisters were on the lookout for her arrival, for they met her in the entrance hall.

"So, were you successful?" Roslyn murmured, obviously anxious to hear the news but not wanting to broadcast the purpose of the journey to all the servants.

"Thankfully, yes," Arabella replied. "I will tell you about it if you accompany me upstairs."

Lily eyed Marcus with a measuring frown before turning to follow Arabella up to her bedchamber, where she recounted the events of the past day, leaving out the fact that she had spent the night in Marcus's arms.

But once rea.s.sured of Sybil's safety, her sisters turned their concern on her.

"Are you all right, Arabella?" Lily asked, clearly troubled. "I regret we weren't with you to protect you from the earl. If we had known he meant to set out after you, we would at least have tried to accompany him."

"I am perfectly fine," Arabella a.s.sured her.

"I do hope you were able to resist him."

She tried to quell the flush that rose to her cheeks. "I managed well enough," she equivocated. "And thankfully, I won't have to worry about the earl after tomorrow. He has asked to speak to me before dinner this evening. I expect he wishes to discuss the resolution of our wager."

"And what do you mean to tell him?" Roslyn asked.

Arabella summoned a smile. "Why, that I have won, of course."

Roslyn regarded her thoughtfully, but Lily looked relieved. "Good," Lily said emphatically. "He needs to understand there is no chance you will marry him."

"No, there is no chance."

Comforted, her sisters rang for her maid and left Arabella alone to bathe and dress.

Arabella spent the time carefully preparing her speech to Marcus, but an army of b.u.t.terflies were marching in her stomach when she finally went downstairs in search of him.

She found him in the study, seated at his desk. He was busy writing a letter, but he set his quill pen down as soon as she entered.

His expression softening with a smile, Marcus rose and came around the desk to greet her. At his advance, Arabella stopped abruptly.

Marcus halted to eye her with curiosity. "Why are you so nervous, sweeting? I won't pounce on you."

"I am not nervous, precisely."

"Then why are you standing near the open door as if you're prepared to flee?"

"I don't trust myself alone with you, if you must know."

He smiled again and lowered his voice. "I don't intend to make love to you just now, Arabella. Not when we need to have a serious discussion. Now shut the door so we won't be overheard."

Obeying with reluctance, she risked moving farther into the room. "I presume you mean to discuss your plans for tomorrow, Marcus. Will you be returning to London?"

He c.o.c.ked his head. "Why would I return to London?"

"Because our wager will be over then. You wagered that you could persuade me to accept your marriage proposal if I allowed you to court me for two weeks. Well, the two weeks end tomorrow afternoon, and I will have fulfilled the terms we agreed on."

A pregnant pause followed her observation. Taking a step backward then, Marcus leaned his hips against the desk. "Come here, Arabella."

"Why?"

"Because I asked you to."

Warily she crossed to stand before him.

Holding her gaze intently, Marcus reached down to take her hand and draw her closer.

Arabella's breath caught in her throat as a frisson of heat raced through her body. Summoning all her resistance, though, she pressed her palms against his chest. "What do you think you are you doing, Marcus?"

"I am renewing my addresses to you."

Arabella swallowed. "You needn't make me another proposal. There is no point."

"I beg to differ. Our circ.u.mstances have changed a great deal since I made my first offer of marriage to you."

"Not enough to matter."

Marcus raised an eyebrow. "No?"

She managed to gain her release without struggling, which surprised her a little. "No," Arabella repeated as she backed away. Then forcing herself to stop retreating, she launched into the speech she had *

prepared. "Marcus...I would like to thank you sincerely for all you have done for me and my sisters, and Sybil as well. It was very kind of you to take such an interest in our welfare. But your guardianship is almost over. After this you will no longer be responsible for us."

"I don't want to relinquish responsibility for you."

"But you must if you mean to honor our bargain."

His blue gazed fixed on her, searching her face. "Oh, I will honor it, but there is one small problem."

She eyed him cautiously. "What problem?"

"I still want to marry you, Arabella, only my reasons have changed. I don't want a marriage of convenience any longer."

"Then what do you want?"

"A love match," he said softly. "I want a real marriage with you...because I love you."

Arabella sucked in a startled breath. Her stomach suddenly coiled in knots at his unbelievable announcement. "You don't love me, Marcus," she finally found the wits to respond.

Amus.e.m.e.nt gleamed in his eyes at her skepticism. "Ah, but I do. Love is a new experience for me, you see, so it took me a while to understand what was happening to my heart. But I haven't been the same man since you challenged me in my parlor with my own rapier."

When she remained mute, Marcus continued. "I knew you fascinated me, that you constantly plagued my thoughts. But until the first time I kissed you, I never realized why. It's because you make me feel alive, Arabella. A precious commodity for a man of my jaded experience."

"You..." The word came out so hoa.r.s.ely that Arabella swallowed and cleared her throat. "You only consider me interesting because I speak my mind to you. Because I don't toady to you like every other female of your acquaintance."

"That is part of your attraction, true, but the far more profound effect is how you make me feel."

Her heart racing in consternation, she took another step backward. "You don't love me. You are only saying that to win our wager."

A crooked smile forming on his lips, Marcus shook his head. "Sorry, angel, but you cannot tell me what I feel. I love you rather deeply, in fact. And our wager has nothing whatsoever to do with it."

Arabella felt herself pale. She didn't believe Marcus truly loved her. She couldn't let herself. She had been down this painful path before, a suitor professing his love for her. She clasped her fingers together protectively, and realized her palms had turned clammy.

"My betrothed claimed he loved me," she finally murmured, "and I was foolish enough to believe him. I won't be so gullible again, Marcus."

She saw his lips press together in vexation. "How many times must I say it? I am not your betrothed."

When she winced at his sharp tone, he inhaled a slow breath. "I understand why you find it hard to trust my declaration, Arabella, but I promise you, this is no subterfuge to gain your capitulation. I love you. I want to marry you and to have children with you. I want to spend the rest of my days with you, making you happy."

Arabella stared back at Marcus. "Whatever you feel for me is only temporary, I'm certain. You will get over it soon enough-"

"No, I won't get over it. What I feel is real, and I have no doubts that it will last. It is love, Arabella." He paused, studying her intently. "From the terrified look on your face, you don't yet return my sentiment.

But that is no matter. Someday you will come to love me in return."

"No, " she whispered. Yet her response wasn't a denial of her future feelings; it was a stark realization of her present ones. She already did love Marcus. Dear heaven, what had she done?

Her heart suddenly pounded in her chest; she couldn't breathe. "No," Arabella repeated in a rasp. How could she have been so foolish as to fall in love again?

There was true fear in her voice now, which made Marcus go still for a long moment before he crossed the room to her. Arabella could feel herself trembling as he stood gazing down at her.

"What must I do to convince you?" he said finally, quietly.

She shut her eyes, her chest filled with panic. She had vowed to keep her heart safe from Marcus, but she had failed miserably. Like an utter fool, she had made the exact same mistake as four years ago. And the end result would likely be the same.

How had she refused to recognize her feelings for Marcus until now, when it was too late to protect herself? For days she'd clung to the conviction that their relationship was purely physical, that she could resist feeling anything deeper for him. But all the portents had been there. She just hadn't wanted to face them. With every kiss, with every caress, she had fallen deeper under Marcus's spell. She loved him.

Heaven help her.

Now she could only hope to try and conquer her traitorous feelings before she suffered even more agonizing hurt than before.

Struggling for calm, Arabella steeled her shoulders and forced herself to wipe all expression from her face. She refused to repeat history, trusting in a man's love, loving him in return, only to have her feelings betrayed, her faith shattered. "I repeat, Marcus, I appreciate everything you have done, but when the wager is over tomorrow, I will have won. I will not accept your marriage proposal."

Frustration claimed his features as he took a step closer, but she spoke again before he could. "Please believe me. I have no desire to marry you."

He shook his head slowly. "I think you are deceiving yourself, Arabella. You feel every bit of the same fire I feel. We have a remarkable pa.s.sion together-"

She deliberately interrupted. "What if we do? Pa.s.sion is not a good basis for marriage. And even if it were, it is entirely beside the point. The question now is, do you intend to honor our wager?"

His jaw tightened. "Certainly I do. I am a man of my word." Marcus gestured toward the desk behind *

him, at the letter he'd been composing. "I've already written my solicitors with instructions to draw up a contract for your emanc.i.p.ation from my guardianship. You and your sisters will have your freedom regardless of whether you marry me. I don't want your decision to be contingent upon anything but your feelings for me."

"Then I will look forward to hearing from your solicitors."

They stared at each other for a long moment, but when the tense silence drew out, Arabella found the voice to say calmly, "You may as well leave tomorrow, Marcus. There is no reason for you to stay here any longer."

"It appears not." The deep blaze in his eyes told her that he was suddenly very angry. His words were clipped when he said, "Don't worry, sweeting. I'll return to London tonight."

Arabella regarded him silently, not crediting that Marcus had capitulated so easily. And of course, he hadn't.

His hands rising to her shoulders, he hauled her close and brought his mouth down to kiss her-a hard, irate meeting of lips that was more punishing than loverlike. Even so, it instantly stirred heat and hunger deep inside Arabella.

When finally Marcus broke off and drew back his head, his eyes were glittering with anger and triumph.

"You feel the same pa.s.sion I feel, but you aren't willing to admit it because you're letting fear drive you. I won't hurt you the way your b.a.s.t.a.r.d betrothed did, Arabella...but I can't force you to believe that."

"No, you cannot," she replied shakily.

The muscles in his jaw clenched again, but Marcus managed to restrain his ire other than to say tightly, "My solicitors will be in touch."