Falling In Love Again (Heroic Rogues Series) (23 page)

“You would think the man could show up on time to his own wedding,” the older woman snapped.

“Yes, one might think that. Perhaps something dreadful has happened. Do you think we should send out a rider to the house?”

“Nonsense. We will wait right here until he arrives.”

Isabelle sighed heavily. “And what if he doesn’t?” she whispered, mainly to herself.

Mrs. Winters patted Isabelle’s hand. “We shall not worry about that until the time comes.”

The clergyman sat at his desk and shuffled through papers, appearing upset that he was made to wait, also. Isabelle glanced around the small church, at the pews, the pulpit, and the large stained glass windows filled with paintings of heaven. So far, she and her companion were the only two for the wedding. Then again, the viscount did mention he wanted a small affair.

Did he plan on hiding his wife after they were married? She shrugged off the thought and straightened her shoulders. It didn’t matter. She hoped to be busy doing other things after the marriage so she didn’t have to be around him.

Suddenly, the doors to the church flung open, and she whipped around. The wind blew in debris along with the viscount, his valet, and two other men she didn’t recognize. A relieved sigh sprang from her throat and she forced herself to smile for his benefit.

“Forgive me for being late,” Lord Lockwood said as he brushed off his clothes. “The carriage wheel broke, and we had to find other means of transportation.”

He stood tall and walked closer to her. Wearing a blue velvet coat with silver trim, blue brocade vest, and blue velvet knickers, he looked magnificent. This dark color brought out the blue in his eyes, too. His white lace neck wrap emphasized his bronzed skin, so very different than men in England whose skin was pasty white.

When she finally met his gaze, it roamed over her gown. Shivers shot through her. Only one other man had made her feel like this, yet with Hawk it stirred a sense of giddiness through her veins. The viscount’s lusty gleam made her want to cover herself and flee from his presence.

He stood in front of her and held out his hand. “Are you ready, my dear?”

A lump of fear lodged in her throat. She didn’t want to be ready, but she would take his hand and marry him. She glanced back at the door, now closed. Unless Hawk came for her…

She met Lockwood’s gaze again, and he winked. His bluish gray eyes sparkled. Why did he have to look so handsome? Then again, that white wig took away his masculinity quite a bit. Thank heavens.

Nervously, she slipped her hand into his and he led her down the isle where the clergyman waited. Her legs shook, threatening to buckle her under, but she forced herself to stay strong.

As the clergyman talked, she snuck a peek back at the doors again. Why did she want Hawk to rescue her? Clearly, he wanted nothing to do with her. Nonetheless, the idea was a romantic one—him barging through the doors, declaring his love, and sweeping her off her feet. Naturally, the viscount would try to stop him, but Hawk would draw his sword and threaten to run the lord through if he dared take one more step toward him. Then Hawk would carry her out to his awaiting carriage and back to his hideout where they’d live blissfully happy for the rest of their lives.

When she caught the glare of the viscount’s valet, she quickly turned back to the clergyman, pretending to listen to the ceremony. With each word, her heart dropped that much more. Especially when Hawk didn’t come.

All grew quiet, and the clergyman’s eyes narrowed on her. She realized he waited for her answer. This was when she should voice her approval or decline. She must say it no matter how much her heart argued.

“I do.”

The viscount smiled and squeezed her hand. When it was his turn, he repeated the same phrase. “I do.”

Tears stung her eyes. The ceremony was almost over, and her dream hadn’t come true. She blinked quickly before Lockwood noticed the moisture, as he slid a gold band on her finger.

The clergyman smiled. “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

An empty, hollow emotion settled in her chest. She met Lord Lockwood’s gaze as he lowered his head. He brushed his lips across hers so very gently before his hands slipped around her shoulders, pulling her closer.

She stiffened, but moved her lips with his. The kiss itself was very brief. Not anything like she’d imagined. After the way he’d acted in her room last night, she guessed him to be a man who would ravish her with no thought of pleasing her—only himself.

He lifted his head and smiled down at her. Her heart froze. She knew that look. Lust coated his dark eyes. Shivers spiked through her, and she stepped back.

Before she knew it, Mrs. Winters and the other few men were in front of her, giving their congratulations. She smiled her best and mumbled a few words of thanks.

Lockwood hooked her hand around his elbow and pulled her close. “Well, wife—Lady Lockwood.” He grinned big. “Are you ready to return home?”

Her stomach wrenched. Not if he wanted to do
that
. “Yes,” she answered with a trembling voice as she tried to smile.

He led her to a coach and helped her inside. Mrs. Winters stood back, dabbing a finger to her watery eyes. Isabelle waved at her before Lockwood climbed inside and closed the door. He sat beside her and took her cold hand in his.

“I want to apologize again. I really didn’t mean to be so late.”

“It’s quite understandable, my lord. Broken wheels happen.”

“Yes, they do, but they are not supposed to happen on my wedding day.” He brushed his fingers across her cheek. “You’re quite lovely, more beautiful than I could have imagined. I approve of the gown.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles, his eyes growing dark. “Isabelle, when we’re alone, I would like you to call me Marcus.”

Blinking, she pulled back. Confusion washed over her and she shook her head. “Marcus? Why? Isn’t your name Matthew Winston?”

“Yes, but I’ve never really used my first name, Matthew. All of my life, I’ve been called Marcus.”

She shrugged. “Well, I suppose I can call you that. It might take me a little while to get used to it.”

“Thank you. I would appreciate it. Only use that name when we’re alone.”

“As you wish.”

He slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. She gasped, and placed a hand to his chest in efforts to keep him from getting too near. Her heartbeat quickened as fear grew inside her. They were alone, and she knew what he wanted. She couldn’t give it to him. Not until she could rid Hawk from her mind.

“Isabelle, now that we have some privacy, would you bestow upon me the kind of kiss I’ve been dreaming about? I realized why you acted so shy in the church, but now…” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “I want a kiss shared by lovers.”

Oh, dear!
She knew this was coming, but still she wasn’t prepared. She hoped she would not regurgitate all over him.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded and leaned toward him. He met her halfway, covering her mouth with his. At first his lips were soft as they pecked at hers, but then the kiss turned wild. He pushed her against the seat and nearly devoured her.

Against her will, warm tingles grew and spread throughout her body. His mouth slanted over hers, his hands wandering over her back. She tried to participate, but knowing this wasn’t the man she truly wanted to kiss kept her from following through with her urges.

He withdrew and looked down into her face, his gaze narrowed and suspicious. She swallowed hard then held her breath.

Finally, his expression relaxed. He moved his mouth to hers again and kissed her tenderly once before pulling back. Still keeping her in his arms, he righted them both on the seat.

“You’re still not certain what to expect. Am I correct, my dear?”

“My lord?” Her voice squeaked, so she cleared her throat. “I mean, Marcus.”

“Just now when I kissed you. You hesitated to participate fully.”

She licked her suddenly dry lips and nodded. “If you must know, yes, I’m still uncertain on what to expect. You must understand, I don’t feel I know you very well.”

“Are you afraid of me as you were last evening?”

“Not as much now.”

“That’s good to know.” He stroked her cheek. “So now I must rectify the situation. I suggest we spend the rest of the day getting to know one another. Is that agreeable?”

Her heartbeat quickened. “I—I think that’s an excellent suggestion. What did you have in mind?”

“I would like to take you on a picnic this afternoon, and perhaps we can go for a walk down by the shore and dip our feet in the water.” He winked. “I don’t care what we do, my dear, as long as we can talk. I would enjoy knowing what kind of woman you are, so please, don’t hold back your feelings. I want to know everything about you.”

She creased her forehead as she studied his serious expression. Who was this man and what did he do with the real Viscount Lockwood? From the stories she’d heard about him, what he suggested was out of character. Why would he want to know her except for in a personal way in the bedroom?

But she mustn’t argue the point. This was exactly how she wanted to learn more about him. Sighing, she smiled. “I think that’s a lovely idea.”

“Splendid. Now, first things first.” He pulled her body closer to his again. “I want to teach you how to kiss me.”

She gasped, and widened her eyes. “You want to
teach
me?”

He chuckled. “Yes. First thing you need to do is relax your mouth.” He swept his fingers across her lips. “Come now, follow my instructions.”

The teasing tone of his voice made her smile. And yes, she even relaxed. Finally.

“Good. Now, I want you pretend you’re plucking a grape off the vine with just your lips.” He demonstrated with his own mouth. “Can you do that?”

She laughed. “I suppose.” When she copied his actions, heat rushed to her cheeks. His gaze focused on her mouth, causing twitters to escalate in her belly.

“That’s very good,” he said. “Now, I want you to do that to my mouth. Close your eyes and imagine my lips are grapes, and you’re plucking them off the vine.”

Her throat dried, and her heartbeat increased. Oh, heavens. Why was she acting in such a manner? She followed his instructions, leaned in and closed her eyes. When her lips touched his, she practiced what he’d instructed, but it wasn’t until his mouth answered back until she understood exactly what he meant.

“Put your arms around me,” he mumbled.

Once more, she followed his command, linking her hands around his neck. His large hands rubbed her arms. She concentrated on his lips, and the insane little stirrings happening in her body.

Slowly, she relaxed against him. Amazing to think kissing him this way could be so enjoyable, especially when it wasn’t with the man she truly wanted to be with.

The coach jerked to a stop, and Marcus pulled away, grumbling. She wanted to spout those words, too, since she had just started to enjoy the kiss. Yet, when the contact was broken and he no longer touched her, she scolded herself for thinking this way. Lockwood’s reasoning for teaching her how to kiss was so he could ravish her tonight.

The footman opened the door and Marcus stepped down then turned and offered his hand. Shaking, she slipped her fingers against his palm and grasped him as she climbed out of the vehicle. They stood in front of his house.
Their
house now.

“If it’s all right with you,” he began, “I want to change my clothes before we begin our day as husband and wife.”

She nodded as her gaze swept over his attire. “That’s permissible, but why do you want to change?”

“I look like a cursed dandy, that’s why. I want to wear something a little more comfortable.”

Trying not to laugh, she nodded. “I understand.”

He walked them toward the door. “However, I hope you will stay in that gown. It’s most becoming and very flattering.”

Once again, his eyes darkened. This time, fire shot through her, and she wondered why she would react in such a manner. “Of course, if you wish.”

“Yes, my dearest. I do.”

Inside the house, he kissed her knuckles then left her to dart up the stairs to his room. The servants moved about, doing their jobs in silence. Now that Mrs. Winters didn’t need to be by her side constantly, it gave Isabelle more freedom to do as she pleased. It felt rather nice not to worry if she slouched or frowned, or if she said the wrong thing. Although she’d miss her companion, Isabelle was happy for the older woman’s absence.

Isabelle walked to the music room and sat behind a pianoforte. Immediately, a tune came to mind, and she moved her fingers across the keys and hummed the song. Tears pricked her eyes of memories long since passed, when her parents were still alive and she was a child. Time changed a lot of things, and she must accept her new life, even as difficult as it seemed.

When she finished and looked up, the butler stood just inside the door, holding a letter.

“Pardon me, my lady, but a missive was just delivered for you.”

She moved away from the musical instrument, toward the butler. “Thank you.”