A small smile lifted the corner of Loxwell’s mouth. “That’s the thing about my sister,” he said. “She doesn’t like to see people fail. If she’s letting you try, it means she’s certain you’ll succeed.”
And suddenly it was over, and Loxwell was shaking his hand – wishing him joy – beaming – ringing for the butler, asking him to call in Lady Selina – offering a drink, suggesting a toast to Malcolm’s happiness – all the things which happened to other people, and which Malcolm had never expected would happen to him. And Selina came in, with her hands still ungloved and stained with her sketching charcoal. That touched him more deeply even than her smile. He knew she wouldn’t let an imperfection show in front of anybody else.
“Yes, you may well look pleased with yourself, Selina,” said Loxwell fondly. “Trust you to make an intrigue out of everything. Caversham, will you give us a moment alone?”
Malcolm obliged. In the corridor outside the study, he paced from wall to wall, feeling rather as though he’d received a blow to the head.
It was done. She was his. He’d be a married man so soon he could practically taste the heaven of the wedding night.
When Selina emerged, slipping quietly through the door and leaning against it to keep it closed, her eyes were a little bright, her eyelashes damp. But she was smiling.
“Alex says please excuse him, but he’ll follow us back to the drawing room in a few moments. He has a letter to write.” She lifted one elegant shoulder and lowered it with an arch smile. “He doesn’t have any letters, of course. My stern little brother is giving us an opportunity to misbehave. Just for a moment.”
Malcolm glanced over his shoulder. The corridor was empty. That was all the encouragement he needed. He pulled Selina into his arms and pressed his lips to hers. Haste made him clumsy, but she didn’t seem to mind.
She fit against him so wonderfully. She smelled the way honey had always dreamed of smelling.
“Thank god,” he groaned, letting his hands roam over the delicate curve of her waist. “At last.” He paused just before kissing her again. “It’s all settled, then?”
“Very happily so. Did he give you a hard time? It’s a brother’s prerogative, you know. Though I think he let George off easy, when it was Anthea’s turn. And when Edith married her Nathaniel, we’d all seen it coming for years.”
“He grilled me a little. He wanted to be sure I loved you as you deserve.”
Selina laughed, but sympathetically, and ran her fingers through his hair. Delightful shivers followed in their wake. “My poor Malcolm. All your years as a careless rake, revealed as an act in one fell blow. That must have been painful.”
“It was, since you ask, and I’ve no idea if I persuaded him, but since he didn’t run me off the property…”
She stopped his mouth with a kiss. “Whatever you said, it was perfect. Now…” She took a step backwards. Malcolm reached out to tug her back again, but she caught his hand and opened a side door, revealing the billiard room with its curtains drawn and, most importantly, no one at all inside. “Surely you don’t expect me to properly misbehave out in the hall?”
Several busy moments later, voice husky with desire, Malcolm murmured the words, “I am going to give you the most expensive wedding.”
“Heavens. It’s my family who should pay for it, surely? Since we’ve decided to do things properly.” She frowned, making that delightful crinkle between her eyebrows. “Besides, it sounds like that would take much too long to plan.”
Music to his ears. “Very well.” He interspersed his words with kisses. “A swift wedding.” Her fingers tightened on his topcoat. “Ah. Very swift. Then an extravagantly expensive honeymoon. Then, when we return, we’ll throw the ball to end all balls.” He grinned, thinking of champagne fizzing in flowerpots. “You’ll have to manage that part yourself. I’ll offer my assistance, but I don’t dare to challenge your expertise.”
“Ah, Your Grace.” She ran a teasing finger up his lapel. “I see you’re wasting no time in putting me to work.”
“Wasting your talents would be a sin. You were born to be the toast of London. I’m simply setting you in your rightful place.” He gave a rueful grin. “You will soon have to get used to the Your Graces too, and I have a feeling you’ll take to it with maddening ease.”
“You must try not to be too jealous, Malcolm.” Her eyes sparkled. “You are marrying me to secure the ideal duchess, after all.”
He let desire flash in his eyes and pressed her against the wall. The sigh she let slip inflamed him. “I am marrying you for a whole host of reasons,” he growled, grazing her ear with his lips. “I will deeply enjoy explaining them to you – at great length – from the moment the Archbishop grants us a special licence.” Reluctantly, he forced himself to let her go. “But for now, we ought to go and let your family know I’ve survived. And perhaps give Streatham a clip round the ear.”
“And we must tell Percy the happy news, of course. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.”
“He’s been begging me to bring you home from the day he pawed your dress in Twynham.” He ran his eyes over her, lingering a little longer in the places he’d grown accustomed to avoiding. The freedom to look at her was as intoxicating as a swallow of brandy. “You look the perfect level of mussed. Shall we?”
Selina shook her head, fastening her fingers on his collar, and
