To Romance a Charming Rogue

“I am grateful to you, sir,” she said haughtily, “but I cannot forgive you. This calamity never would have happened had you not included yourself in our outing.”

“It was hardly his lordship's fault,” Eleanor hastened to point out. “Someone released the balloon's tether before Signor Pucinelli could join us in the gondola.”

The elder lady frowned. “So I am told. Pucinelli was horrified that you were onboard and has apologized profusely. He believes one of his crew was the culprit, but the villain cannot be questioned since he has disappeared. Still, that does not excuse what Lord Wrexham did.” She sent Damon a baleful glare. “This is the second time you have dragged my niece's good name through the muck, but this time she will be utterly ruined. Your disappearance together is already the talk of the ton.”

Eleanor opened her mouth to defend Damon, but her aunt continued lamenting in despair. “This is beyond appalling, Lord Wrexham. Eleanor will be shunned from polite company, and I will never be able to hold up my head again-and you are to blame, sir. You are the worst sort of scoundrel. No lady is safe around you-”

“You are quite wrong, Lady Beldon,” Damon interrupted her tirade coolly. “I assure you, Lady Eleanor is completely safe with me. And I am prepared to make amends at once.”

“What do you mean, make amends?” Beatrix repeated, her tone scornful.

“I will wed her immediately, of course. We will be married by special license as soon as I can make the arrangements.”

Eleanor felt her heart jolt. “I beg your pardon?” she rasped, gazing blankly at Damon.

Aunt Beatrix raised a hand to her temple, as if pained by even having to consider such an alternative. But after a long hesitation, she nodded grimly. “I fear he is right, Eleanor. As much as I dislike the idea of your taking this rogue for your husband, there is no hope for it. Marriage is the only way to salvage your reputation.”

“No, Aunt,” Eleanor exclaimed, her voice breathy with panic. “Surely there is no need for such drastic measures.”

“If I may, Lady Beldon,” Damon said, “I would like to speak to your niece in private, to make her see reason.”

Eleanor did indeed want to speak to Damon alone, but it was to make him see reason. Thus, when her aunt looked ready to object to a private tete-a-tete, Eleanor forestalled her. “A capital idea, my lord.”

Turning without another word, she led him from the hall to the nearest parlor, and after shutting the door firmly, faced him.

“What do you mean, announcing your intention to wed me?” Eleanor said at once. “Is that your misguided notion of dealing with my aunt?”

“Yes,” Damon replied mildly. “Your aunt is right, Elle. There is no hope for it. We must marry.”

Eleanor stared at him. “How can you possibly treat this disaster so cavalierly?”

“I am not treating it cavalierly. But no amount of protesting will change the urgency of our circumstances.”

Panic stabbing her, she lashed out at him. “My aunt is right. This would never have happened had you not insisted on spoiling the prince's courtship.”

Damon held up a hand. “If you're going to tear a strip off me, you will have to wait until later. If I leave now, I will have time to apply for a special license, so we can hold the ceremony tomorrow morning.”

Eleanor regarded Damon in disbelief. “We won't be holding a ceremony tomorrow morning or at any other time! I won't be forced into a holy union that will last for all of our days when there is no love between us.”

“You have no choice, Elle. We went too far. Not only did I compromise you, I took your virginity.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Your aunt would be even more appalled to learn that small detail, wouldn't you agree?”

She eyed him warily. “You wouldn't dare tell her.”

“I might, since it would make her even more adamant about insisting upon our marriage to avert a scandal.”

“I knew you were devious,” she ground out between her teeth.

“Perhaps, but you will marry me.”

Eleanor clenched her fists in frustration, fighting against acknowledging the truth of his argument.

She was angry at herself also for getting into this deplorable situation. She had wanted a love match, yet she'd totally destroyed that option now. If she hadn't made love to Damon this morning, she might have tried to weather the coming storm. But she could hardly claim that her reputation had been unfairly tarnished because nothing had happened when she was alone with him.

Dread filling her, Eleanor raised a hand to her brow. She would have a husband who didn't love her, a certain recipe for heartbreak. She was in love with Damon when he didn't return her affection in the least.

“I cannot believe you are so insistent about making amends for compromising me,” she said weakly. “You don't give a fig about what society thinks about you-you never have.”

“But I care what is thought about you. And I mean to protect you by making you my viscountess. You will be ruined otherwise.”

“I could always move to the Continent and enter a convent,” Eleanor muttered.

His quick smile indicated how absurd he considered her threat. “You are wholly unsuited for the existence of a nun, Elle. A woman with your passion, your hunger for life, shouldn't be locked away beyond the walls of a convent. We just proved that this morning.”

When she stood there regarding him in dismay, Damon stepped closer. Reaching up, he curved his strong fingers gently about her cheek. “You could be carrying my child. Have you thought of that?”

Eleanor's hand stole to her abdomen. No, she hadn't thought of it, although she should have.

“We don't love each other,” she repeated, grasping at straws.

“That makes no difference, Elle.”

“It makes a difference that you are a rake.”

Damon held her gaze. “I told you, I will be faithful to our marriage vows, even if I cannot love you.”

Pain stabbed her anew at his assertion, yet Eleanor was determined to conceal it. “You also said you would remain celibate until I agreed to wed you, but you broke your vow in less than three days.”

Damon's lips curved. “I don't believe that counts since I broke it with you.”

“The point is,” she said hurriedly, ignoring the temptation of his smile, “that I don't trust you, Damon.”

His expression sobered at once while his dark eyes seemed to soften. “I know, Elle. But I promise you, I have renounced my wicked ways. And I will do my utmost never to hurt you.”

She couldn't believe him, yet she knew she was fighting a losing battle. She swallowed hard, trying to quell her panic as she repeated her objections. “There must be another way, Damon. I don't want to be forced to wed you simply because my reputation is in shreds.”

“You want to spare your aunt a scandal, though, don't you?”

That consideration trumped all of Eleanor's pro tests. “Yes, of course.” She owed her aunt immensely for opening her home to an orphaned girl. She couldn't repay Beatrix's kindness by miring her in scandal.

“Then there should be no question as to your decision,” he pointed out.

While she stood there debating with herself, Damon closed the final distance between them. Without warning, he drew Eleanor into his arms, yet there was no passion in his embrace. He was offering her comfort instead.

“I know this is not what you wanted, Eleanor,” he said softly, “but we have no choice.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. His caressing voice had the power to daze and enchant her, but his tenderness made her want to cry. It wasn't fair that Damon made her heart melt with his tender concern.

Pressing her face into the warm curve of his shoulder, Eleanor gave a sigh of despair. “I suppose not.”

He drew back slightly to regard her, although he kept his arms wrapped around her in a loose embrace. “Cheer up, sweetheart.” His deep gaze became a dare. “If you had the courage to face the possibility of death in a balloon without flinching, you can face the prospect of marrying me.”

Watching the uncertain emotion flickering in her vivid blue eyes, Damon knew the moment that she accepted the inevitable. He let out the breath he hadn't known he was holding.

“Will you tell your aunt, or shall I?” he asked.