Page 80 of A Daring Masquerade

“I am still foolish, then,” Kate said bitterly.

He clucked his tongue and strode toward her suddenly. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her against him. “Katherine,” he said, “why do you not listen to all of what I am saying, instead of pouncing on individual words? Can you not hear what I am saying? I care for your safety. I admire you. I adore you. I love you. And I suppose you do not believe me.”

She caught hold of his lapels and clung to them. “I am afraid to,” she said fiercely through her teeth.

“Afraid,” he said. “Ah, Katherine, must you judge me according to the image of manhood that your husband set before you? What of your father? Is he too incapable of love and of treating a woman as if she were a person?”

“My father is one of a kind,” she said.

“And Giles Mannering was one of a kind,” he said, “as am I. I am myself, Katherine, just as your father is himself, and your husband himself, and you yourself. I am not perfect. We would not be here arguing like this if I were. But neither are you perfect, love, or you would have had the courage to forgive me long before this. We are people, Katherine, two people who stimulate each other quite sufficiently to enable us to enjoy a lifetime of friendship and fighting and loving. We will never have a tranquil life together, my dear, but I do not think I could contemplate life without you. And fight as we surely will, I can promise you one thing. I may blister you with my tongue as you will me, but I will never leave you feeling worthless, because I will always allow you to give as good as you get. And I will never blister you with my hand or any other weapon, Katherine.”

“I knew it,” she said, staring belligerently at the top button of his waistcoat. “I knew that if I let you talk to me, I would let my anger cool. I didn’t want it to cool. I thought I would be safe if I could get away and gain employment as a governess. I had decided to live a quiet, dignified life. If I marry you, I shall be storming at you and screeching at you and behaving in a quite undignified way every day of my life.”

He laughed suddenly. “You, quiet and dignified, Katherine Mannering?” he said. “Never, love.”

Kate, clutching at his waistcoat button, lost her battle with her dignity. She snorted with laughter. “It was not a very realistic dream, was it?” she admitted.

“Far better to have a good fight with me every day,” he said.

“And to make love with you, Nicholas,” she said wistfully, raising her eyes to his. “You do it so beautifully. I think I would have to give in just for that.”

“Only for that?” he asked, his forehead against hers.

“No, of course not only for that,” she said. “If there were only that between us, it would not really be worth having, would it?”

“You will marry me, Katherine?” he asked.

“Well, good heavens,” she said, jerking her head away from his, “do I have to spell the word out? Y-e-s. Are you satisfied?”

He grinned. “I think so,” he said. “Yes, in fact. It is just that this argument has gone on rather longer than I expected. I have arranged for the carriage to take you and Audrey to London while Anatole and I accompany you on horseback. I want you with me when I meet my mother, and I want to marry you in the presence of my family and yours. We will be expected back at the Abbey almost before I have time to take you upstairs to make love to you. Pardon me, my love: with you.”

“Now?” she said, her eyes wide. “Upstairs? Here? In broad daylight?”

“In short, yes,” Nicholas said, grasping her hand and grinning down at her. “And right now. I positively refuse to be rushed once I am in bed with you. But I intend to rush you up the stairs.”

He suited action to words, and soon Kate was running to keep up with his long strides along the passageway to the staircase.

“Oh!” she said suddenly, hauling back on his hand. “Nicholas, no, I can’t. Of course I can’t. You are going to be an earl. I had forgotten. You will not wish to marry me. I am nobody. I have never even been brought out.”

He stopped and turned toward her. “Katherine,” he said, “let me make one thing very clear. You may always tell me what you think and what you wish. But in one thing I shall demand total obedience. You will not—and I repeat, not—tell me what I wish. Do you understand?”

She looked up at him with deceptive meekness. “Yes, my lord,” she said. “I am practicing, you see. Then I am not permitted to tell you that you wish to make love with me upstairs right now in broad daylight?”

His eyes narrowed. “And if I were not in such a rush to get down to business,” he said, “you would have another quarrel on your hands, you saucy minx. Now, for God’s sake, Katherine Mannering, hold your tongue and let me love. Is that a quotation, by the way?”

But he did not give her a chance to reply and perhaps set another quarrel in motion. If he said John Donne, she would be sure to say Ben Jonson. His lips met hers and his tongue plunged into her mouth in such a sizzling promise of what was about to happen abovestairs that Kate meekly wrapped her arms around his neck, molded her body to his, and put up no argument when he reached down, his mouth still covering hers, and swung her up into his arms. He began a remarkably swift ascent of the stairs considering that he carried no featherweight and was further hampered by the fact that his eyes were closed and his mouth and nose otherwise occupied than with breathing.

“Nicholas?” Kate said drowsily all of half an hour later, one of her fingers tracing a pattern on his naked chest.

“Mm?” He kissed the top of her head.

“About this smuggling business,” she said, her voice gaining energy.

Nicholas pulled back his head and grinned down at her. “Is the honeymoon over so soon, my love?” he said with a sigh. “Well, it was a beautiful loving, Katherine. We will be good together, will we not? Yes, my dear Mrs. Mannering, what about this smuggling business?”