Bound To Bea

Chapter Twenty Seven

"My lord has gone mad," Beatrice remarked. She stood, trapped by the man whose mere presence rendered her lungs useless.

"Indeed." He tightened his hold on her, silencing her as he claimed her lips once more.

She moaned in sheer pleasure as he buried his tongue in her mouth. Trembling from her emotions, she gripped his lapels.

"Noah..."

"Say you'll marry me." His lips trailed her jaw, and she fought to keep her knees from giving way beneath her as she threw her head back against the wall.

"Marriage..." she sighed, breathless, as his lips explored her neck.

"Marriage, my dear."

His request was absurd, not only because she was newly widowed, but also because he was newly engaged to another woman.

Pressing a hand to his firm chest, she fought to gather her thoughts. "You are already engaged."

"Indeed."

His admission reminded her of her anger. Leaning back against the wall, she tried to shove him back, but he remained unmoving as he pressed his form further against hers in the most intimate manner. She felt every part of him; her body reacting to his nearness.

"What shall you do about your engagement?" She spoke past her racing heart.

"Put it aside," he murmured warmly against her lips.

"To the detriment of your betrothed. And surely my lord fails to consider the implications that shall follow the news of a widow marrying the cousin of her dead husband."

"Engagements are called off all the time, Bea. And perhaps I have failed to consider the implications of marriage to my dead cousin's wife. Still, I refuse to consider it," he said firmly.

"Why not?"

"Because it shall form a barrier between us." His lips grazed hers as he whispered, "A barrier I'm unwilling to allow, for I'm in love with you."

"Love?!" Beatrice hitched a breath as his announcement stopped her heart. He loved her!

"Hopelessly in love with you."

"You must be jesting!" It was simply impossible, she thought, trying once again to break free of his hold on her. Noah couldn't be in love with her! He didn't know what he spoke of.

He held her captive. "But isn't it obvious, my love? I have acted like a madman these past few weeks; accosting you at the charity ball, invading the home of the duke to get to you, my absurd engagement to another woman, and now this."

"Th... this?" she stammered.

"This. Here we are, spiting propriety by choosing to engage in several kisses in public; uncaring of the risk we run of getting caught. Here you are, wanting nothing but to be my wife."

The audacity of the man! Beatrice thought, even if she knew he was right; she wanted to be his wife. But he had put her through too much to give in easily.

"My lord is wrong."

"You wish to fight your heart?" He kissed her throat, where her pounding pulse was. "Or perhaps it is I you wish to fight."

"I wish for an apology," she said.

"Then allow me to apologize," he said, gripping her waist as he kissed her senseless.

Beatrice did not believe she possessed the strength to withstand his seduction for much longer. Releasing a soft sigh, she moaned her acceptance of his proposal.

He leaned back then, a broad smile on his face as he took her hand and led her out of the building.

"Wait here," he said, before releasing her and turning to make his way back inside.

Beatrice watched him go, fear immediately clouding her mind as she stood alone in the chilly evening. What was she doing?! Surely she was insane for conceding to his proposal—surely he was insane for proposing! No, she couldn't marry Noah; it was just not allowed. Marriage would expose them both to a scandal far beyond anything they had ever experienced. It would ruin them; she couldn't let that happen.

And the Marquess? Perhaps he was drunk on wine. She had smelled no trace of liquor on him while he ravaged her lips—she thought, her body warming with the memory—but she didn't suppose he was in his right mind when he made the proposal. For all she knew, Noah could wake up tomorrow and change his mind.

Silently, she contemplated the idea of running off. There was still time to put an end to the madness and save them both the drama that was bound to follow.

Even as the thoughts raced through Beatrice's mind, it was replaced by another; she loved Noah. And perhaps their love was unusual—perhaps it was criminal to be in love with a man so closely related to her dead husband—still, she could not ignore the way she felt, nor could she deny it.

Love kept her glued to her position on the front porch, awaiting Noah's return, until his footman came and ushered her into his carriage.

*

Noah hurriedly returned to the ball in search of Thomas. Once he found Thomas and instructed him to usher Bea into his carriage, he went in search of Lord Hawkins. He would inform Lord Hawkins of his decision to call off the engagement and offer a quick apology. He didn't suppose the conversation would go well, but he imagined he owed the older gentleman an explanation.

He stood scanning the ballroom for signs of Lord Hawkins, when something warm settled on his forearm.

Turning around, he was surprised to find Lady Penelope standing there.

"My lady," he began, suddenly feeling sorry for her. He was aware of the impact his decision would have on her, and while he loathed himself for it, he supposed a broken engagement was far more bearable than a loveless marriage. "I need to have a word with your father."

"You wish to call off our engagement."

Stunned by her announcement, Noah immediately knew she had seen him with Bea earlier.

He opened his mouth to offer an apology, but she shook her head.

"I do not wish for this marriage either."

"Your heart lies with another." He didn't know how he could have missed it; how he could have misinterpreted her sadness—which had translated to silence—for timidity.

"Indeed." She nodded solemnly, glancing down.

"Still, you must forgive me for the trouble I've caused." Stepping forward, he took her hand and gave it a small squeeze.

"I shall speak to my father, but I beg that you refrain from making an announcement until a suitable way of doing so has been decided."

"Very well, my lady."

Releasing her hand, he turned from her.

"And my lord?!" Her words stopped him, causing him to turn back around. She offered him a small smile. "Good luck."

Nodding, Noah returned her smile, before turning to make his way out of the ballroom to the carriage, where his soon-to-be bride awaited him.

He climbed in and settled beside Bea, pulling her into his arms once they were alone. He kissed her lips slowly, savoring every second as the carriage began making its way out of his gates.

She snuggled close. "Where is my lord taking me?"

"Switzerland, my dear. And if all goes well, we shall be married very soon." He grinned, exhilarated by the idea.