Princess Charming (21 page)

“Well, I should think you would want to prove your father’s innocence.”

Maura felt her heart give a painful leap. Her most heartfelt desire—one she never would let herself consciously acknowledge—was to clear her father’s name and restore honor to his reputation.

“I would give
anything
to prove his innocence,” she said in a shaken voice. “It is my greatest wish. But I don’t believe there is any chance of it.”

“There is if I help you.”

Maura stared at him, her mind awhirl. “You are actually serious.”

“Utterly serious. This is your chance to change your father’s legacy, Maura.”

She was already weak with relief, knowing her stallion would be safe for now, but she hadn’t dared let herself hope for more.

“I never dreamed it could actually happen,” she murmured almost to herself.

“It is no dream. I intend to make Deering pay for what he did to your father.”

“But how?”

“One step at a time, love. Once I make clear to Deering that your horse is safely in my possession and that we are affianced, we can determine what comes next. In any event, our betrothal will provide the perfect excuse for me to confront Deering on your behalf. Don’t fret,” Ash added when he saw her frown. “Our engagement is only temporary. You can cry off as soon as we declare victory over him.”

Maura bit her lower lip in doubt, and yet … If there was even the remotest chance of erasing the black stain on her father’s reputation, she had to take it.

At her continued silence, Ash prodded her. “If you don’t return to London with me, you will be letting Deering win. You don’t want him to win, do you?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then you need my help.”

She did need him, Maura admitted. And in truth, it
would be an enormous relief not to be alone in her fight against Deering any longer.

“Thank you,” she murmured gratefully, gazing up into Ash’s green eyes.

His expression softened. “You shouldn’t thank me just yet. You need only agree to a betrothal.”

“Then I agree.” She drew the signet ring off her finger. “But I had best return this. It is so loose I fear I will lose it.”

He took the ring and slid it onto his finger, then turned her face up to his. “Now give me a kiss to seal our bargain.”

Maura complied willingly—and instantly felt her senses start swimming again. When Ash’s caressing mouth moved to the side of her neck, trailing light kisses along her skin, she arched to give him better access and threaded her hands in his hair to draw him closer.

When he pressed her down among the pillows, however, she managed a half-hearted protest. “Ash … I have already agreed to your plan. I don’t need any more persuading.”

“I know.”

“Then what are you doing?”

“Kissing you. What better way to while away the time until my carriage arrives?”

Agreeing fully, Maura closed her eyes in surrender as he nibbled tenderly at her throat, until his next comment came:

“This could be our last chance for lovemaking for some time. Once we return to London, there may be little opportunity.”

Indeed, it might, Maura thought with regret. She wanted this time together with Ash. Perhaps too much.

Recalling her resolve to maintain her defenses, Maura found the strength to untangle herself from his embrace and sit up. “This is extremely unwise, lying in bed with you, kissing you.”

Ash followed suit, although more reluctantly. “Come now, sweetheart. You need some pleasure in your life. You’ve had so little of it recently.”

Brushing a disheveled tress back from her face, she raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh, so you are only thinking of me?”

“For the most part. Although easing my own ache is also a consideration.”

Seeing the wry glimmer of humor in his eyes, Maura laughed softly. After the stress and turmoil of the past weeks, it was good to be able to share a lighter moment with him.

“I think you are cruel to deny me,” Ash added in a plaintive, clearly teasing tone. “As your betrothed I ought to have
some
special privileges.”

“Oh, and what privileges might those be?”

“If I could, I would spend the rest of the day exploring your delectable body.”

Maura shook her head in reproach. “You are wicked.”

“What is so wicked about wanting to make love to you? If we were in Scotland, we would be legally wed by now, since we declared ourselves to be husband and wife before witnesses.”

“But we are not in Scotland, nor are we wed. We are not even betrothed for real. And now that I consider it, just pulling off such a sham will be difficult. No one in
your elite circle will believe you actually wish to marry me.”

“Why not?” Ash asked.

“I am a horsebreeder by profession. That disqualifies me to be your marchioness. And I am most definitely not cut out to be your fairy-tale princess.”

“Certainly you are.”

Maura disagreed. “No, my Lord Beaufort. You have long been a prize on the Marriage Mart and the bane of every matchmaker’s aspirations. No doubt the ton will be shocked to hear that you chose me for your bride.”

“It will be no more shocking than anything else I have done. For that matter, no one would be surprised if I eloped with you. My own parents eloped to Scotland many years ago, although there was a little matter of an abduction beforehand.” Ash chuckled. “The bride—my mother—was more than willing, but her papa didn’t approve of the union, so the groom had to force the issue.”

Maura’s eyes widened. “I knew about your parents’ elopement, but not that it was an abduction.”

“It’s true. But my parents were actually fairly tame compared to some of my aunts and uncles. Jack’s mother—my Aunt Clara—caused a great scandal in her time, falling in love with a foreign prince and bearing a child out of wedlock, then living abroad alone. And Quinn and Skye’s parents caused their own scandal. Angelique was a French noblewoman engaged to wed a wealthy count when my Uncle Lionel stole her affections and married her himself. And then there was the Wilde ancestor who had to decamp for America because he killed a rival in a duel.
It started a bitter feud between our families that continues to this day.” He smiled a bit. “See, I told you our current generation of Wildes have a legacy to uphold. Our love lives are varied and interesting, to say the least.”

“Apparently so,” Maura observed wryly.

Ash went on as if she hadn’t interrupted. “You may trust me when I say that pretending a betrothal will merely add to the exciting annals of our family history.”

Maura hesitated again, wanting to give him one last opportunity to change his mind. “Beaufort …”

“I asked you to call me Ash.”

“Ash … you don’t have to fight Deering with me. You can still withdraw your offer.”

His own gaze narrowed on her. “Not a chance, love. I am not abandoning you now that I’ve gone to all this trouble to save you from yourself. Besides, I desperately want the challenge. My life was becoming far too dull.”

“Well, then … if you are sure. But I won’t hold you to a betrothal. We will end our engagement at the earliest opportunity. I won’t have it said that I trapped you into marriage.”

“There is that prickly pride again,” Ash said with a taunting smile.

Maura answered him with much more seriousness. “Perhaps it
is
my pride, but I also don’t wish to act the hypocrite. It has always galled me that my stepmother manipulated my father into marriage because she wanted security and wealth. I refuse to be anything like Priscilla, marrying only for material gain. And I don’t care to marry you, in any case.”

His mouth curved. “I know—I don’t need reminding that you are fiercely independent.”

Maura pursed her lips thoughtfully. “It is not only independence I want,” she said with complete honesty. “Only true love would ever induce me to marry. And from what you have said, you feel the same way. You expect to find a grand passion in marriage, and I gravely doubt that I am your grand passion, any more than I am your ideal princess.”

At his contemplative silence, she searched his face. He clearly had his own doubts as well, she could tell.

But she faced the greater danger, Maura realized. After all, what did a rake like Ashton Wilde know about true love, despite his family legacy? She didn’t dare let herself succumb to him, for she knew he could break her heart.

Finally he cleared his throat. “Perhaps we are not fated to fall in love, but meanwhile … I will settle for passion. I want you, sweet Maura.” His hand reached up to stroke her cheek. “You want me, too, admit it.”

Of course she wanted him. His merest touch stirred something deep inside her. Yet her yearning for him was more than sheer physical desire.

Maura drew a deep breath, striving for willpower. Then his hand suddenly fell away, making her feel sharp disappointment in addition to relief.

“Perhaps kissing you
is
unwise,” Ash murmured, “since it will prove too much temptation. Therefore, I will just hold you.”

He drew her close while waging a struggle for willpower similar to Maura’s. When she gingerly laid her head on his shoulder, Ash deliberated how to deal with his growing feelings of tenderness for her.

He knew he had to tread carefully. If he wasn’t sincere about wooing and wedding Maura, he could cause her grave hurt, for she was far more vulnerable than she liked to pretend.

Alternately, he could be in peril himself if he came to love her and failed to win her love in return.

Frowning, he pressed a light kiss against Maura’s temple. How had this fair-haired hellion accomplished something that no other woman had ever done: Make him seriously contemplate matrimony, and even worse, matters of love?

Until now he’d always viewed the question of love with a healthy wariness. Although he bore a fierce love for his closest family members, he’d maintained a deliberate emotional distance from outsiders. Oh, indisputably he was as lusty and passionate as all his Wilde relations, possibly more so. But to this point all his love affairs had been shallow and superficial and had never once come close to touching his heart.

In truth, he’d sometimes wondered if he was even capable of feeling the kind of romantic love that usually afflicted his clan.

It was a profoundly alluring fantasy, though—fulfilling the primal desire to find his perfect mate. Finding the one special woman who was his equal. Who belonged with him and to him. Who completed him and made him half of a contented whole.

Yet for his own self-protection, he’d never subscribed to the principal Wilde doctrine that it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. After the grief of losing his parents, he had never wanted to risk that terrible pain, not even for the priceless prize of experiencing a grand, lifelong passion.

He would be a sad fool, however, to let his perfect match slip through his fingers for fear that he might suffer an unrequited love.

The simple fact was, whether or not their betrothal ended in marriage and a passionate, timeless love, just now Ash very much wanted to be Maura’s hero and prince. And granting her wish to vindicate her father’s honor was his best chance to prove himself her prince.

The Beaufort coach
and grooms arrived in good time, so that by early afternoon, Maura was standing in the inn yard saying farewell to her stallion.

She felt anxious for Emperor, even though she knew he would have the best of care from Ash’s trusted stablehands and with two armed Bow Street Runners to act as escorts to his new home in Kent.

“And at least you can be properly groomed again, my handsome fellow,” Maura murmured as the horse nosed her palm, searching for treats.

She fed Emperor the fat carrot she’d obtained from the inn’s kitchen and stroked his face and ears while she waited for Ash to finish speaking to his grooms. When he was done she added her own instructions for Emperor’s care.

Finally Ash gestured toward his waiting carriage. “We had best be on our way. It will be late when we arrive in London as it is.”

“I hope we are doing the right thing,” Maura said, her doubt and worry rising up again.

“We are,” Ash assured her.

When he reached up to brush her cheek with his knuckles, Emperor pushed between them and butted his shoulder. Maura softly scolded the horse for his poor manners and apologized to Ash. “He knows better. He is just being protective of me.”

“You may tell him that I will take good care of you,” Ash promised before handing her into his well-sprung carriage.

They traveled all day, and when night fell, he pulled Maura into his arms and cut off her protests. “This is another advantage of a betrothal—it allows us more freedom when we are together. Now, go to sleep.”

She slept soundly in his arms until he murmured in her ear, “Wake up, princess. We are here.”

Maura stirred awake, only to realize that she was draped all over him.

“What is the time?” she asked as she untangled herself and sat up.

“Just after ten o’clock.”

Self-consciously, she smoothed the straggling wisps of her hair, which she’d pulled back in a tight chignon, and straightened her cloak as she peered out into the dark night.