Verena surveyed Eliot in mounting horror, while every word she’d told him that she wanted to hear followed on from the last. Her trembling hands twined in her lap as acid tears stung her eyes, blurring her view. Although not enough to allow her to pretend that he didn’t mean what he said. Or to conceal just how beautiful he was.
He’d never looked more like a valiant knight of old. His jaw was hard and determined. His expressive mouth was stern. His gray eyes were steady. Only the muscle flickering in his cheek betrayed what it cost him to let her go.
“But, Eliot, what if I don’t want you to set me free?” Her voice emerged as a shaky whisper.
When he didn’t immediately respond, she wondered if he’d heard, although he sat mere inches away.
After a few seconds, she saw his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed. His eyes grew intent. “Just what are you saying, Verena?”
This time, he wasn’t going to accept anything but unconditional surrender. She couldn’t blame him. She’d hurt him so deeply, although that had never been her purpose. Not only that, but she’d tainted his standing in the world. After today, there would be even more nasty talk. Loving her had destroyed his good name.
But while she felt guilty about how she’d tormented him and she regretted turning him into a figure almost as scandalous as she was, she wasn’t sorry that they’d reached this point. Because a night of uncomfortable soul-searching had revealed that she didn’t give a fig for what the world said. She never had.
At last, she was ready to break free of the prison that had held her captive since her disastrous marriage. Now that she’d stared death square in his cold, cold eyes, her decision to marry Eliot seemed even more urgent. She had one life. She had no intentions now of spending it without him.
She struggled to give him a smile but couldn’t quite manage it. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t stop her voice from trembling either. “I’m saying, my darling saintly Lord Colville, that if you’re still willing to take me as your wife, I’m most willing to be taken.”
The vulnerability in his expression threatened to break her heart. She saw how much he wanted to believe her, but couldn’t quite allow himself to.
“Verena…” He reached out and caught her arms in desperate hands. “Have you stopped running at last?”
Curse these tears. And the stupid thing was that she was happy. Why the devil was she crying?
She blinked to clear her vision, but it remained misty. “I’ll always run to you, my love.”
His hands tightened. Even through the fine wool of her spencer, the heat of his touch stirred her blood. “But you were so angry this morning when you arrived at the inn.”
A tremulous smile greeted that. “You were making yourself an object of ridicule.”
“You know why I did it.”
“Yes, to show me that you don’t care about scandal.”
“That’s true.” He sent her a rueful look. “But mainly it was to keep you away from Shelburn. I’ve been trapped in a hell of jealousy since you sent me away. I’m not proud of myself.”
Once, she might have resented that hint of ownership. She would with any other man. But she couldn’t bear to picture Eliot marrying someone else, so she was in no position to feel superior.
“My dear, no man has touched me since the day we came together. No other man will.” She reached up to shape a hand to the angle of that princely jaw. Her voice thickened with emotion. “That is if you’ll have me. You haven’t answered me yet, you know.”
“I’ll have you every day of the week, you wonderful girl.” He pressed his face into her hand, and his smile broadened. “I was yours from the first. Now I think that perhaps you might have decided to be mine.”
“Yes, I’m yours, Eliot. There’s no perhaps about it. I can’t resist you.” Tears started to trickle down her face. “I love you. So very much.”
She’d admitted that she loved him once before, but it had been a grudging confession and the prelude to rejecting him. Now she spoke the words with all the adoration filling her heart.
She’d imagined that it might be difficult to promise herself to a man ever again. But with this man, it felt like a new kind of freedom. The vow emerged as naturally as water flowed downhill to the sea. So easy that she said the words again just for sheer pleasure. “I love you, Eliot.”
Verena saw his face change, as at last he realized that she yielded to her love and that she entrusted herself to him forever. He leaned forward and kissed her softly on the lips, as if she was fragile and sweet and innocent. As if she was the girl that she’d been before those dark years with George.
Something in that reverent, tender kiss restored her lost innocence. She kissed him back with a trace of shyness that she knew he sensed, because his touch turned even gentler and his lips conveyed worship instead of passion.
By the time he raised his head, she felt made anew. She would come to Eliot, worthy to be his bride. It didn’t matter what the world might say about her. She and her beloved knew the truth about the purity of the love that united them.
“I love you, too, Verena. I’ve loved you from the first. What changed for you? I was so sure I’d lost you forever.”
“You were right. I was frightened.” As her thirsty heart opened wide to take in his declaration, her lips turned down in self-disgust. “But I’m not frightened anymore. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, yet I was letting the shadows of the past steal away all hope of happiness. Will you forgive me for hurting you?”
He leaned in and kissed her with more heat. By the time they drew apart, they were both trembling with the power of the emotions surging between them. “Right now, I’m so happy I could forgive Lucifer himself.”
She managed a broken laugh. “I’m wicked, but I’m not quite as bad as that.”
Eliot stared at her as if she was the sun that warmed his days to light. She swore then and there that she’d do her best to make sure he always looked at her that way.
The carriage creaked as Mick moved in the traces. They probably shouldn’t leave the horses standing too long, but Verena couldn’t bear to bring this radiant moment to an end. Not just yet.
Eliot cupped her cheek in one hand and brushed his thumb over the trails of her drying tears. “I hope that you’ll still be wicked with me.”
She reached up to give him a quick kiss. “Only with you, my beloved.”
“Only with me.”
This time, he lashed his arms around her and drew her as close as the narrow seat of the carriage allowed. His lips explored hers with silent promises of love and faith and protection. Promises he’d speak in front of a vicar before the next few days were out. Promises that would bind them together for eternity.
Once that prospect would have terrified Verena into a gibbering mess. Now she couldn’t wait. She kissed him back, making her own silent vows of everlasting allegiance.
“About time,” a mocking voice drawled from behind them. Verena had been so wrapped up in the man she loved that she hadn’t heard Shelburn’s carriage approach.
Eliot raised his head without any particular rush. He kept his arm around Verena, as the phaeton rolled to a stop beside them. “I see you’ve caught up at last, Shelburn,” he said with commendable coolness. “You can be the first to congratulate us. Lady Verena has just agreed to marry me.”
“It seems she’s made her choice.” Shelburn was kind enough to pretend regret. “I bow to the better man.”
Verena really did have a good friend in him. When she’d heard about the race, she’d been puzzled as well as angry that he wagered something he didn’t value against Eliot’s marvelous horses. But now she wondered if perhaps he’d hoped that the race would bring her romance with Eliot to a happy conclusion.
“Thank you.” Eliot’s grip firmed on her. “I’d offer my condolences, but as you’re about to win the race, you’ll have my grays. That should console you.”
Shelburn gave a dismissive wave. “Keep them as an early wedding present. In my view, the race has ended in a draw. Or, no, not quite. You’ve come out the winner in the only way that counts.”
“Perhaps you should introduce us to your companion.” Verena glanced at the woman beside Shelburn, who observed them with intelligent hazel eyes. “I assume that somewhere over the last fifteen miles, you’ve managed to exchange names.”
Shelburn cast the dark-haired woman an unreadable glance. Verena recognized sexual interest, but that was no surprise. He was a rake, after all. But there was something new in his expression that she couldn’t quite identify. “Lady Verena Gerard, Lord Colville. Allow me to present Miss Catherine Starr of Bradbourne in Derbyshire.”
Eliot bent his head. “Miss Starr.”
Verena smiled. Right now, she wanted to smile at the whole world. “Miss Starr.”
The woman smiled back. She was a handsome creature. “My lady. My lord. May I add my congratulations into the mix?”
“You may,” Verena said.
“Go ahead and claim the victory, my lord,” Eliot said. “We had a bit of a mishap with the curricle about a mile back. It seems to be in one piece, but I don’t want to take too many chances with my precious cargo.”
Shelburn frowned. “What the devil happened?”
“A dog ran out in front of us and nearly brought us to grief,” Verena said. “No real harm was done.”
In fact, much good had come out of that reckless hound’s perilous dash. She’d intended to make everything right with Eliot when they reached Hatfield and he no longer had to worry about controlling his team. But the sweetness of exchanging their vows of love in this lush countryside setting would always be a cherished memory.
“Thank the Lord for that.” Shelburn turned to Eliot. “If you can bear to share a carriage, Colville, you and I could come in together in my rig and officially make it a draw. That way, the people who placed wagers will get to keep their blunt.”
Verena considered this option and dismissed it. “If Eliot arrives at Hatfield as your passenger, people will still say you won because it’s your carriage. I’ve got a better idea. My cabriolet is coming up behind us. With the delays, I imagine it will show up any minute.”
Actually, now that she thought a little more about delays, she was surprised at how far Shelburn had been behind them. He should have been closer on their heels, if he was pushing his team hard enough to win the race.
Her questioning gaze dwelled on his face, but he was busy looking interested and pleased at the news of her engagement. That convinced her even more that he’d done his best to ensure that Eliot came in first.
When she caught his eye, his innocent air only confirmed her suspicions. She sent him a small, grateful smile and went on with what she meant to suggest. “Why don’t you two gentlemen travel in my rig? Miss Starr and I can follow in Eliot’s curricle, and my groom can bring Shelburn’s phaeton and the chestnuts in last. That is if you’ll trust the grays to me, darling?”
Eliot smiled at her with more of that unabashed adoration. Warmth filled her, a warmth that she knew would remain with her for the rest of her days. “I trust you with my life. And my horses.”
She laughed, even as she sent him an equally besotted look. “I promise on my soul to take good care of both.” She turned back to Shelburn, who was looking rather abashed at the conversation’s sentimental turn. “What do you think? Miss Starr, I’m a good driver if you’re nervous at all. Or if you’re unsure, you can travel with my groom. In any case, it’s only a couple of miles.”
“I’m sure you’re more than competent, my lady,” Miss Starr replied with what appeared to be her usual aplomb. “I’d be honored to be your passenger.”
Verena was curious about this woman who had so readily accepted Shelburn’s invitation. She looked like a respectable citizen. Her dark blue traveling ensemble was in the first stare of fashion, and the blue-blooded company didn’t appear to overawe her.
There was some mystery here, Verena was sure. Perhaps she’d discover it on the way to Hatfield.
“That’s a capital solution,” Shelburn said. “Given the race has ended with a joyous result but no genuine victor, this should satisfy all parties.”
Eliot climbed down and stared up at Verena with his heart in his silvery eyes. He’d been staring at her with his heart in his eyes for nearly a year, but she’d been too lost in old miseries to realize it.
“I hate to let you go, now that I’ve got you to consent to marrying me.” He spoke in a low tone, so only she could hear. “I want to laugh and talk and plan. Not to mention, I want to kiss you and hold you close and spend hours wondering at how well everything has turned out.”
Tenderness flooded her, as she gazed down into that remarkable face. “I hate to leave you, too, but we’ve got the rest of our lives to congratulate ourselves on our excellent judgement in deciding to marry.”
He laughed, then looked behind him. “Your rig is coming up the road right now.”
She glanced back and saw Smith approaching at a measured pace. “Let’s put the race behind us, then we can concentrate on just the two of us.”
“If I get a special license tomorrow, will you marry me this week? Or we could call the banns at St. George’s and make our vows in a couple of weeks under society’s full glare.”
She smiled down at him, enchanted anew. So many times, he’d told her that he was proud of her. His willingness to wed her in front of the world and his wife just confirmed it. “I had a big wedding first time around, and it was a catastrophe from the beginning. Let’s do something small for us, then have a long honeymoon.”
His smile developed a devilish edge that suited him surprisingly well. “No wonder I love you.”
“I’m very glad you do.” Her mind focused on the forthcoming wedding. “Let’s do the pretty in a week. I want a couple of days to have a new dress made. I’d like to look my best when I pledge my life and heart to you.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He crossed to Shelburn’s phaeton and held one hand out to Miss Starr. “May I assist you across to my curricle, Miss Starr? Lady Verena has a wonderful touch with the ribbons. You couldn’t be in safer hands.”
“Thank you.” She lightly stepped down.
Within ten minutes, the new arrangements were in place. As he urged her horses to a run, Eliot blew Verena a kiss whose mocking edge in no way lessened his fervent message of love. His rival sat beside him in apparent ease.
Verena urged the grays to follow at a gentler rate, in case the curricle had sustained any damage in the accident. Miss Starr maintained the calmness that seemed to be her habit. Smith had taken charge of Shelburn’s carriage and brought up the rear.
The imprudent race to Hatfield had reached an unexpected, but perfect denouement. Verena knew that she and Eliot had found the perfect ending to their clandestine love affair as well. The love would go on forever. The affair would turn into a lifetime of passionate joy for the angelic Lord Colville and his audacious lady.