squinty eyes landed on Matilda, and the woman’s nostrils flared. “I do hope you are planning on doing right by this young lady. Though I must admit I’m rather surprised the two of you are here together in the midst of this scandal.” She whispered the last word as if that would lessen the sharp sting of her words.
Matilda had gone still beside him, her body tightening and her breath going shallow. She practically vibrated with anger.
He leaned down a little, putting himself more in line with Lady Evanberry’s judgmental gaze. “My lady, let me reassure you that all is well. If I may let you in on a little secret.” He lowered his voice as if they were conspirators together on a most important secret. “Matilda and I are already married. We were spotted at that inn returning from eloping in Scotland. We are so very much in love and couldn’t wait to be united.” He pulled Tilly tighter to his body and pressed a kiss to her temple.
Lady Evanberry’s hand clutched her breast. “Oh my dear boy, that is so wonderful to hear. And how romantic!” She smiled broadly at Tilly. “You must be so overwhelmed with love. What a blessed match you’ve made.”
“Now, you must know too that our families have insisted upon a second ceremony,” he continued. “A church ceremony here in London so that they can all attend. Evidently, my mother is leery of those blacksmith ceremonies.” He winked at the older woman. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe I would like to waltz with my wife.” With that, he turned Matilda around and walked her straight onto the dance floor, pulling her close in his arms.
“Are you quite mad?” Tilly hissed.
“I don’t believe so.”
Her skin was flushed and her green eyes blazed. “Then what the devil was that?”
He tilted his head. “Had I not said something, she would have destroyed your reputation. She is a notorious gossip.”
“I’m well aware of who she is, but we are not married.”
He shrugged. “We will be, soon enough.”
“And you are so confident that I would agree to your proposal?”
“Freckles, you are an intelligent woman. You’d be a fool not to marry me as I can’t imagine you’re eager for your parents to ship you off to the countryside.”
Yes, she was willful. Yes, she despised him. But he was determined to do right by her, and Lady Evanberry’s confrontation had given him the perfect opportunity to force her hand.
He might even feel bad about his blatant manipulation if she didn’t feel so damn perfect in his arms. He wanted to kiss her, to know what her lips tasted like, how her tongue felt sliding against his own.
She made a disgusted face. “You are ridiculous.”
He tugged her ever so closer to his body, slid his hand familiarly up her spine. “Careful, sweetheart, we are madly in love, remember?”
“That’s your story, not mine.”
They were quiet for a few measures of the music. If they didn’t have an audience, he would kiss her. He’d put his hands on either side of her face, stare into those grassy-green eyes of hers, and press his mouth to hers. She’d no doubt open her mouth with indignation, giving him the perfect opportunity to sweep his tongue inside and ravish her.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.
“I’m not certain what you mean.”
“You have an odd expression on your face.”
The look of desire. Lust. Not that he would admit that to her. “I thought you’d be proud. I’m taking social action. You’re already a good influence on me, Freckles.”
She snorted. “You’re ridiculous.” But even she couldn’t hide the slight tilt of her lips.
“Tell me, do those freckles cover all of your body or just your neck and arms?” He slid one finger down her bare arm, and she shivered in response. He could lean down and suckle that tender spot right below her ear. Right where her pulse tapped against her perfect pale skin.
She swallowed visibly, the black in her pupils widening, swallowing up the green. “It is not kind to tease about something for which I have no power to change.”
“Change? Why the devil would I want you to change?”
Her brow tightened in obvious confusion, her gaze darting away from his as she pulled away from him just a fraction. As though she was retreating into herself. As though she wanted to hide.
How did she not know how beautiful she was?
He swore, as something inexplicable flooded him—something that felt like rage—as the