Page 7 of Raked Away in September

There it is.

“Then why were you there?” he asked, needing to understand. “No lady of the ton wanders the Dark Walks alone at midnight. Not unless she is looking for trouble. Do you know the Belle? Are you her informant? Or perhaps the lady herself?”

“I went to the Dark Walks for reasons that are my own, and they have nothing to do with gossip or with you,” she replied, her gaze never wavering. “And as for the Belle, I despise her as much as I’m certain you do. She should never have printed such rubbish without knowing for certain that what she claimed was true!”

Rowan studied her. She was being evasive, but he had no idea why. He wanted to shake the truth out of her—or kiss it out. “Do you want to marry me, Miss Tamsin? How do you feel about being tied to someone like me for the rest of your days?”

She finally dropped her gaze, twisting her hands together as she thought about her answer. He appreciated that. This was a weighty matter and not one to be entered into lightly.

“I cannot fathom how a marriage between us can possibly make either of us happy,” she replied simply. “And I am very sorry that you have been pulled into this. None of this is your fault, and I would understand if you wanted to back out. I will do my best to smooth things over with my brother.”

Her answer surprised him. He’d assumed she’d jump at this chance to save herself, not offer him a way out and take full responsibility for what had happened. In his experience, that was uncommon.

“Come,” he murmured, gesturing to a pair of chairs in front of the fireplace. “Sit and talk with me for a while before we make any hasty decisions.”

She nodded stiffly and crossed the room to take her place across from him. “Why did you agree to marry me?” she asked, once they were seated. “What did my brother say to you?”

He laughed softly. “I’m certain you can imagine. He first challenged me to a duel, but even though I find him a priggish bore, I don’t relish the idea of killing him. It was actually my idea that we should wed. It seemed like the only acceptable solution for everyone involved.”

“But this isn’t your problem,” she told him again, still twisting her hands together nervously. “You can just walk away. No one is at all surprised by the idea of you seducing a debutante in the Dark Walks. No one will cut you or shun you for that.”

The double standard struck him, for perhaps the first time in his life. He truly had been involved in an act of debauchery last night, and Tamsin had just been passing by, yet she was the one who would suffer for it. Because she was absolutely right: He could walk away if he so wished, and this situation would not only roll off him but perhaps even enhance his legend as a rake.

But somehow, her selfless insistence that he didn’t have to marry her made him actually want to. Had anyone in his entire life ever put his needs ahead of their own? If so, he couldn’t remember it.

He stared at her, wondering what it was about her that had enchanted him so utterly. Her hair was the color of a raven’s wing, a deep, glossy black that made her pale, ivory skin appear almost luminous in the soft light streaming through the window. Yet it was her eyes that truly commanded his attention—a piercing, crystalline blue. With high, elegant cheekbones and a mouth that was perhaps a bit too prone to a defiant curve, she lacked the soft, rounded prettiness of the Season’s typical debutantes. Instead, she possessed a striking, unique beauty that he couldn’t look away from. For years now, he’d found himself watching her across crowded ballrooms, and she’d invaded his dreams more than once.

But she also seemed to possess a kindness that was foreign to him. If he were ever going to wed and have heirs, it occurred to him that he could certainly do worse than this beautiful, kind woman. She’d probably make a wonderful mother. His own had… not been kind. The Countess of Haversham had never shown him a moment of affection.

“I don’t want to walk away,” he said at last, realizing he’d let the silence drag on too long. “If you are willing, I think we can come to an agreement that works for both of us.”

Her eyes flared in surprise. “I don’t understand. What do you have to gain from marrying me?”

Raking a hand through his hair, he finally looked away. “I turned thirty this year. It’s time I settled down. I have a responsibility to provide an heir.” He didn’t tell her that the rakish pursuits he’d been engaged in had grown tiresome of late. The late nights, drinking, gambling, and meaningless trysts with women whose names he couldn’t remember the next day had failed to fill the emptiness growing inside him. He’d found himself incredibly… lonely.

“What would make this arrangement acceptable for you?” he asked, a bit apprehensive about her answer.

“No one has ever asked me what I wanted before,” she said, and for the first time since she’d walked into the room, some of the tension seemed to leave her voice. “Unfortunately, what I have always wanted is a marriage like my parents had. A love match.” She paused, and when he looked back at her, she blinked away a sheen of tears. “I wanted someone who shared some of my interests. Someone who would enjoy a quiet night reading by the fire.” She cleared her throat. “I had hoped for someone who would be faithful to me.”

The way she said that last bit made it clear she thought it an impossible thing to ask of him. But was it? Could he be faithful to her? His latest conquests had mostly been made out of boredom. If she were willing to make this a marriage in truth… If she’d give him just a taste of that passionate fire he’d seen in her eyes last night…

Perhaps I could be faithful.

“Well, we don’t really know each other, so I can’t help you with the love match part. But I don’t think any of the rest of it is unreasonable,” he told her cautiously. He didn’t want to make any promises. But he could try. He found that he really wanted to try. It would be diverting, to say the least.

A look of surprise flashed through those expressive eyes. “You would be faithful to me?” she asked, obviously thinking she needed to make some clarification, that he hadn’t understood her demands.

“Will you let me exercise my husbandly rights?” he countered. “I want this to be a marriage in truth.”

She swallowed thickly, and this time, it was she who looked away. A deep blush stained her delicate features, and he wondered if she was thinking about what she’d witnessed last night. Had it excited her? The mere thought made him shift uncomfortably.

“If we did marry... I would want that as well,” she said at last.

Perhaps he hadn’t imagined that spark between them after all. But he had to make sure.

He pushed to his feet, then held out his hand. She stared at it for a moment, then bit her lip and placed her gloved hand in his. He tugged until she stood, gazing up at him in confusion. She was a tiny thing, barely reaching his shoulder, but she had rather voluptuous curves for her small stature. Her scent, a blend of lavender and vanilla, sent further arousal racing through him.

“May I kiss you, Miss Tamsin?” he asked hoarsely. “I want to see if… we would be compatible in the bedroom.”