She had obviously been rehearsed.
“Oliver says you have declared that when you find the woman who meets all of your qualifications you shall marry her at once.” She stared at him with an uncertain smile on her face. Well rehearsed.
Still, no one liked a good joke better than Jonathon himself, and this was no exception.
“So at this point I am supposed to take you in my arms and agree to marry you?”
“It sounds rather silly when you say it that way.” She frowned. “That would be most convenient but is probably too much to expect.”
“What do you expect?”
“To be perfectly honest, Jonathon”—she glanced at him—“and I do wish to be perfectly honest—”
“As do we all.”
“I didn’t know what to expect. Nor do I know precisely what to do. I only know that if I do not marry, my sisters and I shall lose everything. And the longer I wait to wed, the greater the chances are that I shall be forced to marry someone I have no desire to wed.”
“And you do desire to marry me?”
A charming blush colored her cheeks. It was most impressive. “I think we would suit nicely. And”—she flashed him a slightly wicked grin—“you do come highly recommended.”
“By Norcroft?”
“Certainly but you are one of the most eligible bachelors in England. Why, I should be interested in you even if my situation were not of a desperate nature.”
“I’m flattered as well as curious.” He considered her for a moment. “You are a beautiful woman and I cannot imagine any man not wishing to marry you. Why, then, have you reached the advanced age you have without being wed?”
“Advanced age?” She raised a brow. “I would scarce call five-and-twenty advanced.”
He shrugged. “Many people would.”
Annoyance flashed in her eyes. “Would you?”
“I would expect the kind of woman I want to be”—he thought for a moment—“independentenough to have resisted the urge to marry simply for the sake of marriage.”
“Good.” She paused. “I have, however, had offers of marriage, you know.”
“I would expect nothing less.”
She wrinkled her nose. “This is most awkward.”
“Awkward? Not at all.”
“Well, I certainly find it so.” She held out her glass and he obediently refilled it. She did indeed seem discomforted, but then Jonathon had no doubt she was skilled at deception. He would expect no less of Oliver. “I never imagined, at the moment I did at last pursue marriage, I would be the one issuing the proposal.” She tossed back her champagne. “So, then, we should end this, don’t you think?”
“End this?”
“End this discussion.” She waved impatiently. “By the way, that is most annoying.”
“What is?”
“The way you answer everything with a question.”
He chuckled. “I should hate to annoy you. It would make me less than perfect for you.”
She stared in surprise. “My dear Jonathon. I never said you were perfect for me. Why, I really know nothing about you, save for your family position, your title, your prospects—which admittedly do make you a relatively perfect match for any woman—and Oliver’s assurances that you are a nice man.”
His brow raised. “A nice man?”
“A very nice man,” she amended.
It was obviously time to be something less than nice and past time to take control of this scheme. His friends expected him to run from this allegedly perfect creature. It would certainly turn the tables on Oliver and the others if instead he accepted her proposal with—he grinned to himself—open arms. Indeed, once the truth was revealed and this plot of theirs laid to rest and they were all appropriately chastised, why, he would not be at all averse to getting to know the lovely actress better. And with something far less permanent than marriage in mind.
Regardless of what wagers may have been laid, Jonathon had no doubt he would be the ultimate winner.
“Very well, then, Fiona.” He took another swallow of his champagne and set the glass aside. “I accept.”
She stared. “You accept?”
“I do indeed.” He stepped toward her and was most gratified when she stepped back.
“Just like that?”
Oh, this was good. The slight glimmer of panic in her eyes, the faint tremor in her voice. Very effective and almost believable.
“You are obviously the type of woman I have always wanted.” He shrugged. “Therefore I see no reason to postpone the inevitable.”
“The inevitable?” she said slowly.
“Now who is answering with a question?”
“I simply didn’t expect this to be so…so easy.”
“What did you expect?” He moved closer and again she stepped back. This was fun, although he would have thought she would be a bit bolder. Still, a charming virginal hesitance was called for if her story was to be believed. Oliver had taught her well.
“I’m not sure, really.” She wrung her hands together and feigned dismay creased her lovely forehead.
“You’re not changing your mind are you?”
“Oh, no, of course not.” She sighed. “In truth, if you are indeed willing to marry me, I have no choice.”
“But you find me entirely too easy?”
“Yes, I do. I never imagined you would agree to marry so quickly. I thought you would need much more convincing and some time to consider my proposal. Certainly I have little time to spare, but I have grown accustomed to the idea of marrying someone I don’t know, whereas this is new to you.”
“I don’t believe in wasting time when an opportunity presents itself.” He flashed her a wicked grin. “You, my dear Fiona, are definitely an opportunity.”
Her eyes widened. “Be that as it may, I thought as well you would wish to speak to Oliver about my, um, about me.”
“And I fully intend to speak to him as soon as possible.” His voice was firm. “All about you.”
“You only have my word as to my background and family and everything else I have told you.” Unease edged her voice. “I also assumed you would want to determine for yourself whether or not we will truly suit one another before a commitment of this nature.”
“But our meeting was arranged by Norcroft and he is one of my dearest friends. Who better to know if you are indeed perfect for me than a man who has known me for years and, as my friend, has only my best interests at heart?”
She didn’t so much as flinch at his declaration.
“My dear Fiona, I have long said that when I find the woman who is precisely what I want, I should not hesitate to make her my own.”
“Still…don’t you wish to—”
“What I wish is to take you in my arms.” He suited his actions to his words and pulled her into his embrace, noting a slight reluctance on her part. Obviously part of the act. “And kiss you thoroughly to seal our bargain.”
“Do you?” She stared up at him, her green eyes wide with a skillful mix of trepidation and anticipation.
“I can think of nothing I would rather do more.”
“Then, I suppose…” Her voice had a charmingly breathless quality no doubt honed to perfection on the stage. She raised her chin and her gaze met his in a determined manner. “You should do precisely that.”
“Indeed I should.” Regardless of who she really was or the jest she was a part of, he fully intended to enjoy this. “And I shall.”
He pressed his lips to hers and for a moment she stilled, as if uncertain, then her lips opened beneath his. She tasted delightfully of champagne and Christmas spices, secrets and desire. His and possibly hers as well. Excellent. He slanted his mouth harder over hers and his kiss deepened in a greedy manner that was less polished than usual, but he wanted her more than he had expected. In his arms and eventually in his bed.
She had obviously been kissed and kissed well before now. Still, there was something in the way her hands rested lightly on his shoulders or the slight restraint in the feel of her body pressed against his or a reluctant eagerness in her response that struck him as odd. Perhaps she wasn’t as experienced as most actresses of his acquaintance. Or perhaps she was very skilled at her profession. He scarcely cared at the moment. His mouth plundered hers and desire rose within him. He pulled her tighter against him. The feel of her body next to his, the intimacy of his mouth on hers, caught at something deep inside him, perilously close to his heart, although that was absurd. She was an expert at this and well used to eliciting such reactions from a man. Even so, Jonathon was not at all used to being affected in any manner that was not entirely physical. No doubt it was all that talk of perfection and fate. He gently ended the kiss and raised his head. Her eyes were closed, her lips slightly open and she seemed unable to move.
Whether that was part of her charade or not, he quite liked it. And liked as well the faint dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose. He chuckled and her eyes fluttered open.
“Oh, my.” Her words came in the manner of a woman who has just been well and truly kissed and enjoyed it. Jonathon was confident this particular moment was no act. “That was quite…” Her eyes were wide and a bit glazed. “Quite wonderful.”
He smiled down at her. “I thought so. But then it would be, wouldn’t it?”
“Why would it?” She fairly sighed the words.
“Because we are perfect for one another.” He grinned with satisfaction. “Fated for each other and all that.”
“All that.” She smiled up at him with that brilliant smile that reached inside him and twisted him in knots. He swallowed hard. No matter what else happened, he would never forget that smile. She stepped out of his arms with a reluctant sigh, moved back as if to put distance between them and absently smoothed the skirt of her gown.
“In spite of the challenge I apparently present, I do plan on making you a good wife.” Fiona glanced at him with a determined look in her eye. “You will not be sorry, Jonathon.”
He shook his head to clear it. Regardless of her act, she was still a remarkable woman, and when this was all said and done he had every intention of pursuing a closer acquaintance. “I cannot imagine I will be the least bit sorry.”
“I should take my leave now.” She glanced around the library. “This would be most improper if we were found here alone. I should hate to begin our marriage with any kind of scandal or gossip of an untoward nature.”
“No, we wouldn’t want that.”
“Now that this is decided, we should probably proceed quickly.” She leaned toward him in a confidential manner. “I am fairly certain the man my father wished me to marry will no doubt make an appearance at some point soon and it would be best if I was wed before then.”
“By all means. Speed is definitely called for.” Not that there was any spurned suitor or dead father or anything beyond an elaborate hoax. He could hardly wait to see the faces of his friends when he informed them that he knew of their joke all along.
She pulled a calling card from her glove and handed it to him. “I have written the address where I am staying on the back of my card. Since our return from Italy, my sisters and I have been residing with my cousin and aunt and shall do so indefinitely. Or at least”—she glanced at him in a manner that was almost shy; excellent acting—“until we wed.”
“I shall call on you within the next few days so that we might begin making arrangements.”
“Dear Lord, I hadn’t thought about an actual wedding ceremony.” She paused as if she were really considering the details of such an event. “Something small, I should think, and as soon as arrangements can be made.”
“Absolutely. I wish to spend as much time with you as possible as well. Now that I have found the perfect woman, I cannot wait to get better acquainted with her.” He flashed her a knowing grin. “Far better acquainted.”
Her eyes widened in apparent surprise. Oh, she was very good indeed. Then a slight smile curved her lips. “I shall look forward to it, Jonathon.” She stepped closer and, before he could say a word, framed his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his. Her body molded against his and he could feel the shape of her through petticoats and corset and all those annoying layers women were compelled to wear. Before he could respond, she pulled away. “Very much so.”
She cast him a wicked smile of her own, not at all the kind of smile an innocent lady of good breeding sacrificing herself in marriage to save her sisters would wear. Nor did she kiss like an innocent. It was at once shocking and most exciting. It was almost a pity this Fiona Fairchild was a fraud. She turned and swept from the room.
“Excellent performance, my dear,” he said softly, then chuckled. He couldn’t wait to find Oliver and the others, including Judith. She was obviously in on the joke. Well, he had seen through their little charade and had nicely turned the tables on them. Any minute now they would hear Fiona’s report about what had transpired in the library. He hated to miss the expressions on their faces when she told them he had agreed to marry her. Perhaps he would wait for them to come to him to confess their failed plot and beg his forgiveness. Just the thought of them simmering in their own ill-conceived juices brought a grin to his face. No, Jonathon could not resist a good joke any more than they could. He propped a hip on the desk and picked up his glass. He would give them a few minutes to consider what their hoax had wrought and how to now correct it. He chuckled with anticipation. He could hardly wait.