She realized and, reluctantly, came about, and inch by inch, step by step, together, they retreated from the all-consuming kiss.
When he finally managed to raise his head, they were both breathless and hungry for more. Their gazes met and held; for a long moment, they stared into each other’s eyes, reading the truth blazoned there, then slowly, rather smugly, they smiled and eased apart.
Hands clasped, fingers twined, they remained staring at each other, each, he knew, feeling the beat of passion still thudding in their veins.
Eventually, he cleared his throat and said, “We’ll make our families very happy when we announce—or should I say confirm—our direction.”
Her smile deepened. “I’m just glad I won’t have to explain crying off to Grandmama.”
He shuddered, then rocked back onto his feet, rose, and held out his hand to help her up. “Is it wrong to keep track of the horrors continuing on our path will allow us to avoid? Purely in terms of congratulating ourselves on our wisdom?”
Regaining her feet, she laughed. “I’m reasonably certain that acknowledging avoided horrors counts as permitted encouragement.”
Lighthearted and happy, he grinned at her, then together, they repacked the basket. She folded the blanket and tucked it over the top, then he picked up the basket and offered her his arm. She took it, and they started back toward the pier.
With smiles on their faces that would have instantly revealed their news to anyone who knew them, they strolled along. Unable to quell the impulse, he scanned the lawns and the trees bordering the paths.
She noticed. “Are you looking for our mystery man?” She started searching as well.
“I wondered if he might seize this opportunity to approach me. I’m fairly certain he’s Irish and wants to speak with me alone, with no one else close enough to overhear and, if possible, no one to witness our meeting, either, except perhaps you.”
They kept walking. When the pier came into sight, she sighed. “It appears he hasn’t followed us here.”
“Indeed.” To be truthful, he was just as glad the man, whoever he was, hadn’t appeared to distract them from what had proved to be an afternoon of momentous importance.
They reached the pier, and he waved in a water taxi. When it arrived, the wooden side grating against the stone steps, he handed Melissa into the gently rocking boat and followed. As he settled on the cushioned seat beside her, this time facing the bow, and the boatmen pushed off, he took in the hazy outline of the roofs of London and felt elation rise.
He’d achieved his immediate objective, and his campaign in pursuit of his perfect wife, namely the lady leaning her shoulder against his, with her hand tucked snugly in his, was proceeding exactly as he’d hoped.
Chapter 6
Four evenings later, Melissa sat beside Julian at the middle of one long side of the immense dining table in the formal dining room of Carsely House and fought to keep her entirely false smile firmly fixed on her face.
They were a little over halfway through Julian’s mother’s “family dinner” to formally introduce Melissa to his family and Julian to hers. During the earlier hour in the drawing room, on Julian’s arm, she’d formally met all those of his family who were present and had introduced him to those members of her family he hadn’t previously met.
The dining room was large, with twin chandeliers bathing the long board in bright white light that glinted off the crystal and silverware and set sparks flashing in the jewels gracing many of the ladies’ throats. Melissa herself was wearing a necklace of aquamarines set in rosettes of diamonds, with single rosettes dangling from each ear. The hue of the aquamarines matched the vivid shade of her silk gown, one of her favorite colors for evening wear as it made the most of her pale skin, dark-blue eyes, and dark-brown hair.
About her, various members of Julian’s family, most of them Delameres, were intermixed with Norths and Osbaldestones. Julian’s brother Felix sat on her left, while his younger brother, Damian, sat a few seats down on the opposite side of the table.
She’d been pleased to discover that Gordon had been seated farther up the board, on the same side as her and Julian and effectively out of their sight. She wasn’t sure whether she was still annoyed with Gordon or, perversely, whether, given the outcome of his interference in her life, she should thank him. However, when she and Julian had come upon Gordon in the drawing room, she’d detected a certain constraint between the pair, and Julian had cut short the exchange, and she’d smiled and moved on with him.
Clearly, Gordon had not yet been forgiven by the head of his house.
“My dear Melissa.” One of Julian’s connections, a matron in her forties, who was seated a little way along the board, leaned forward to say, “You must be looking forward to seeing Carsington Castle.” She widened her eyes and looked from Melissa to Julian. “I daresay you plan to spend the summer there?”
Melissa quashed an urge to roll her eyes. They’d been fending off such leading questions all evening. Maintaining a serene expression, she looked at Julian. His connection; he could deal with this.
After briefly meeting her eyes, he looked up the table. “As to that, I really can’t say. We haven’t yet decided.”
Increasingly through the evening, that was the reply to which they’d steadfastly clung.
Yet still the questions kept coming. She turned to deal with one from her aunt Catherine regarding which modistes she was considering consulting. The words “for your wedding gown” weren’t uttered but were clearly implied.
She pretended to be oblivious.
Sadly, as all her family knew her far too well to believe she didn’t understand the inquiries they were attempting to make, that tactic failed dismally in halting the sometimes subtle but often not so subtle inquisition.
She’d expected some degree of curiosity, but the barrage of questions was more than she’d anticipated. She told herself that, given the majority of those present were not aware of their back-to-front wooing, she shouldn’t be so surprised.
