To Pleasure a Lady

“It depends wholly on the reason.” Marcus crossed his arms over his chest, his stance the picture of resistance. “I told you, Arabella, I am not interested in a marriage of convenience.”

“Neither am I. I want a love match, just as you do.”

“Is that so?”

Feeling suddenly vulnerable, she clasped her hands together. “Yes. You were right, Marcus. I was acting out of fear. I was afraid to have my heart broken again, so afraid that I wouldn’t risk loving you. But in the end I couldn’t help myself.”

Some emotion flickered in his blue eyes but she couldn’t read it. “So you are saying you love me.”

“Yes…I love you.”

He gave her a skeptical look while his arms remained firmly crossed. “Why should I believe you? Perhaps you’ve mistaken your feelings.”

Arabella shook her head, torn between exasperation and fear. Apparently Marcus wouldn’t readily forgive her for rejecting him so soundly, but it frightened her to think he didn’t care at all about her change of heart. “No, I have not mistaken my feelings. I love you, Marcus.”

“You will have to convince me.”

The words were a challenge and sounded more like the Marcus of old.

She offered him a nervous smile. “What must I do to convince you? I am willing to grovel, if you wish me to.”

When a glimmer of amusement finally lit his blue eyes, Arabella sucked in a sharp breath of hope.

“I think perhaps some amount of groveling is in order,” Marcus remarked. “After all the torment you put me through, you deserve to suffer a little.”

“I have suffered,” Arabella replied emphatically. “I felt utterly wretched from the moment you left. I missed you unbearably.” When he showed no further sign of yielding, she realized she would have to make him believe that she truly loved him. Her voice lowered to an imploring murmur when she continued. “Marcus, once you were gone, there was this great void in my life…in my heart.” Her fist closed over her breastbone. “I felt empty without you. I can’t bear to live like that the rest of my life. I don’t want to live without you. It is love I feel for you, Marcus,” she insisted, repeating the same words he had said to her a week ago.

When he didn’t reply, Arabella searched his face. “You said you feel the same way. You said you love me.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “That was last week. Perhaps I’ve lost interest by now.”

She swallowed. “Perhaps you have. But I want to be your wife, even if you don’t love me.”

It seemed, however, that he still wouldn’t relent. “I’m afraid that isn’t good enough.”

“What…do you mean?”

“I want your trust, Arabella, as well as your love.”

“I do trust you, Marcus.”

“Enough to believe me when I say I will remain faithful to you to the end of our days?” His eyes held hers intently as he waited for her answer.

“Yes.” She regarded him solemnly, understanding what he was asking. “You are not my father.”

When his expression softened with something resembling satisfaction, her heart at last started beating again in a more normal rhythm.

“I’m glad you realize it, angel.” He uncrossed his arms and strolled toward her. “Then I suppose I could consider marrying you.”

If not for the hint of laughter in his eyes, she would have been alarmed. But Marcus was provoking her on purpose, she knew. Relief coursing through her, she let herself smile. “You could consider it? What the devil do you mean? You have been after me to marry you for weeks now.”

“But I see no reason to rush now that you have finally capitulated.”

Her own eyes glimmering with faint amusement, Arabella placed her hands on her hips. “I think perhaps I have groveled enough.”

“I’m not so certain. I rather like this humble side of you.”

“You don’t want a humble wife, you said so.”

“True, I don’t. But I would be wise to hold out for better terms.”

“So now you want to negotiate the terms of our marriage?”

“What if I do?”

Arabella’s gaze settled on the rapiers the noblemen had used for their fencing session. Moving over to the table, she picked up a foil, then advanced toward Marcus. “You should know better than to leave weapons lying around when you are deliberately provoking me.” She prodded his chest lightly with the tip. “You had best answer me now, Marcus. Will you marry me or not? I warn you, I may do you bodily harm if you refuse.”

Laughing, he caught her wrist and pulled the rapier from her grasp, then wrapped a strong arm around her waist and drew her close, against his warm, hard body. “Ah, sweetheart,” he said with delight, “you never fail to enchant me.”

“Do I?” Arabella asked, smiling mistily up at him.

“You know damn well you do. Everything about you enchants me. I love the fire flashing in your eyes. I love the fire you make me feel. I love you, Arabella.”

“But will you wed me?”

He considered her for another endless moment while she held her breath. “Yes, I will…but first I have something to give you.”

“What is it?”

“Come with me.”

Surprising her, Marcus released Arabella only to take her hand and draw her from the salon. She found herself being ushered down the corridor and across the entrance hall, where Hobbs stood ready to assist her departure. The butler pretended not to notice his lordship’s odd behavior as Marcus, still carrying the foil, led her into a large room that looked to be his study. Going to a massive desk, he set down the rapier, then fished out a sheaf of papers and handed them to Arabella.

“These are the documents modifying your guardianship?” she asked.

“No.”

“Then what are they?”

“Read for yourself.”

Arabella’s gaze scanned down the first page, then returned to the top to scrutinize the lofty legal language more slowly. As she turned the succeeding pages, recognition dawned on her. Marcus had purchased the deed to the Freemantle Academy from Winifred and had signed it over to her.

Tears springing to her eyes, Arabella looked up at him in awe. “You bought our academy for me?”

“Yes-and before you take my head off, it isn’t charity. In the first place, you’ve worked damned hard for this. And in the second, I hoped to give the school to you as a wedding gift.”

“Thank you, Marcus,” she said softly. “I will cherish this.”

Setting the papers down on the desk, she stepped closer. Smiling warmly, she reached up and threaded her arms around his neck. “Did I tell you how very much I love you?”

“You did. But I want to hear you tell me again. I won’t ever tire of hearing it.”

“I love you dearly, Marcus.”

His expression turned smugly satisfied. “I know. You couldn’t help yourself.”

Arabella felt laughter bubbling up inside her. Marcus had known she would come to love him. He had understood her better than she understood herself. “You are very confident, my arrogant lord.”

His bright blue gaze was amused, tender, loving. “Only now, darling. Ten minutes ago I wasn’t nearly so sanguine.”

“I do love you, Marcus. I love you wildly, madly. I always will.”

“The feeling is mutual.” He chuckled. “I admit I never intended to lose my heart to you, Belle. You intrigued me from the first. I wanted you in my bed from the moment you threatened me with my foil. But I never thought I would feel this kind of love for anyone.”

“Truly?”