Whirlwind Wedding

the food-laden mahogany table was looking at her. Some of the guests were not as obvious as others, but she felt the weight of two dozen stares flicking over her. Assessing her.

Whereas before she'd been the object of sneers, now she observed speculation. Curiosity. And while she clearly felt skepticism veiled behind many of the smiles, as Austin had predicted no one uttered an unkind word to her. Indeed the gentleman seated next to her, instead of talking around her, hung on her every word as if gems of brilliance dripped from her lips. Penelope and Prudence, neither of whom had deigned to exchange more than a dozen words with her before, now made it a point to engage her in a conversation regarding fashion. Luckily they did most of the talking.

While the gentleman next to her droned on about a recent fox hunt, she glanced toward the head of the table at Austin. He was about to drink from his wineglass when their eyes met. And held.

Elizabeth gazed at him, his hand arrested halfway to his lips, his eyes intent on hers. Heat rushed through her and she fought a sudden urge to fan herself with her linen napkin. The way he looked at her, with that dark intensity that seemed to see inside her, unnerved her. And excited her in a way she could not put a name to.

With great difficulty, she returned her attention to her dinner companions, but her skin continued to tingle from the heat of Austin's gaze.

When the meal ended the ladies retired to the drawing room for coffee. Elizabeth immediately found herself surrounded by half a dozen chattering women.

'Of course you must call upon us at your earliest convenience, my dear,' Lady Dibgy said elbowing her way to Elizabeth's side.

Before Elizabeth could open her mouth to reply, Lady Digby went on, 'In fact, I should like to host a dinner party in your honor.' She turned to her daughters. 'Wouldn't that be lovely, girls?'

'Lovely, Mother,' the Digby daughters chorused.

With a determined and proprietary air, Lady Digby linked her arm through Elizabeth's elbow. 'Come, my dear. Let us sit down and discuss the plans.'

A deep, masculine voice halted Lady Digby. 'If you don't mind Lady Digby,' Austin said smoothly, 'I need to have a word with my fiancee.'

Lady Digby relinquished her hold on Elizabeth with obvious reluctance. 'We were just about to discuss my plans for hosting a party in her honor.'

'Indeed? Perhaps you should discuss the arrangements with my mother and Lady Penbroke. They will be helping Elizabeth organize her social engagements for the next several months, until she is settled with her new duties.'

'Of course. Come along, girls.' Lady Digby strode across the room like a ship under full sail, her fleet of offspring bobbing along in her wake.

Austin smiled at her. 'You looked like you needed rescuing.'

'I believe I did, although I'm not sure your mother or my aunt will thank you for it.'

He waved his hand in a dismissive fashion. 'Mother is very adept at these matters. She'll maneuver Lady Digby with an ease that I'd find downright frightening if I didn't admire it so much.' His gaze roamed her face. 'You look disturbed. Has anyone said something to upset you?'

'No. But I'm afraid that I feel somewhat… overwhelmed.'

He extended his elbow. 'Then come with me.'

She didn't even consider refusing. Trying not to appear overeager, she took his arm and he led her from the room. 'Where are we going?'

He cocked a brow at her. 'Does it matter?'

'Not at all,' she answered without hesitation. 'I'm happy to escape all those people staring at me.'

Austin felt the shudder that passed through her. He'd observed her all through dinner, saw how well she'd handled herself in the face of her newfound popularity. She'd been unfailingly polite to people who had once snickered at her, charming to those who had previously dismissed her, and smiled at everyone who had hurt her.

Bloody hell, he was proud of her.

When they reached his private study, he opened the door. A fire crackled in the grate, casting a soft glow over the room. Closing the door behind him, he leaned against it and watched her. She stood in the middle of the room, her hands clasped in front of her, looking more lovely than anyone he'd ever seen. Tenderness flooded him along with an overwhelming urge-no, a need-to kiss her. Before he could act on his impulse, however, she spoke.

'May I ask you something?'

'Of course.'

A frown knitted her brow. 'What happened to me at dinner… did that same thing happen to you?'

'I beg your pardon?'

'When you inherited your title and became the duke, did people change toward you? I'm the same person I was last week, last month, but everyone is treating me differently.'

'Not unkindly, I trust.'

'On the contrary, everyone seems quite determined to be my friend. Did that happen to you?'

'Yes, although before I was a duke, I was a marquess, so I was quite used to it already.'

She studied him for a long moment, then shook her head sadly. 'I'm so sorry. It must be very difficult for you, not knowing if someone likes you or your title.'

He drew a deep breath. Would her words ever cease to amaze him? He walked across the floor, his footsteps silenced by the Axminster carpet, and stopped in front of her. She looked at him and his heart jumped. Tender warmth glowed from her beautiful eyes, sincere, honest, and unmistakable.

He simply had to touch her. Now.

Cupping her face between his hands, he brushed his lips across hers.

'Austin…' she breathed.

What was it about the sound of his name on her lips that moved him so? He'd only meant to give her a brief kiss. He'd brought her to the study for a different reason altogether. But now, with her soft curves so enticingly close, and her voice sighing his name, he promptly forgot his reason. Gathering her closer, he traced her full lower lip with the tip of his tongue. She needed no further urging to part her lips and welcome him. He half whispered, half groaned her name and deepened their kiss.

He slanted his mouth over hers and his senses caught fire. The warmth of her body, the strawberry sweetness of her mouth, her delicate lilac scent, all surrounded him, blanketing him from head to toe with a fierce heat that quickly turned into a burning, raging need. When he finally forced himself to lift his head he was breathing hard and his heart rate had doubled. Possibly tripled.

'My goodness,' she panted clinging to his lapels. 'You're quite good at that.'

He pulled back slightly and took in her dazed expression with a swell of masculine satisfaction. 'So are you.' Incredibly, indescribably good.

'My mother once told me that Papa's kisses made her bones melt. I had no idea what she meant at the time.'

A smile quirked his lips. 'And now?'

A peach blush suffused her cheeks. 'I understand. Exactly. It means you can no longer feel your knees. I must say, it's a delightful sensation.'

'Indeed it is.' And it would soon be more delightful- when they were in his bed naked making love.

A dozen erotic images popped into his mind but he firmly pushed them aside. If he allowed his thoughts to dwell on that, she wouldn't make it out of the study with her virtue intact.

Reluctantly he released her and walked to his desk. 'I want to give you something.'

Her dimples flashed. 'I thought you just did.'

'Something else.' He unlocked the bottom drawer, picked up what he wanted then returned to her side. 'For you,' he said handing her a small velvet box.

Her brows lifted in surprise. 'What is this?'

'Open it and see.'

She drew back the hinged lid and gasped. Nestled in a bed of snowy velvet sat an oval-cut topaz surrounded by