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When he positioned his shaft at her entrance, his voice was ragged against her ear. “Stop me if you don’t want this.”
She wrapped her legs around him and tilted her hips up to meet him. “You’re all that I want.”
As they came together, he swallowed her soft gasp with a kiss. Soon she was climbing back up the precipice, but this time, with her hand in his, together. They soared higher and higher until the pressure was unbearable, then shattered as one into each other’s arms.
Harry jerked out from her, spilling his seed across her thigh rather than risk what her father had done without thinking. He cleaned her skin with a handkerchief, then pulled her into his arms and cradled her close.
“Marry me,” he murmured into her hair.
She chuckled. “I thought men were supposed to say whatever they thought women wanted to hearbeforetaking their wicked way with them, not after.”
“I’m in earnest.”
“You’re in recovery from intense physical activity. Give your brain a chance to start working again before you go making promises you won’t want to keep.”
“How can you think I don’t want you?”
“Oh, I believe youwantme. Just as you’ve seen that I want you. But I know you don’t want to marry me. You showed no sign of it before. You’re intoxicated by the after-glow of lovemaking.”
“If you believe me temporarily addled, then I will pay a call on you in the morning to ask you again in the harsh light of day. Will that prove to you that my intentions are true?”
She nestled against his chest. “I suppose we’ll find out tomorrow.”
CHAPTER23
The next morning, breakfast came and went without any sign of Harry.
Bianca pretended she didn’t care. She’d known from the beginning that she and the Earl of Eagleton were not destined for the altar. When they met, the first warning out of his mouth was that he would not offer marriage. Whywoulda lord offer for an illegitimate, impoverished chambermaid?
Of all the strikes against her, the only element that had changed was the reveal of her dowry. If he did appear at her door, would it be for Bianca, or for her dowry? Or for his guilty conscience at having taken her virginity?
Bianca scrubbed her face with her hands, then retrieved the stockings she’d been darning beside the fireplace. There was no hiding the truth, at least not from herself: She’d wanted to sayyesright there on the picnic blanket, yesterday afternoon.
Until that moment, she’d thought lovemaking the best possible birthday gift. But becoming Harry’s countess would have outshone even that. Not because of the title, but because it would mean making love to each other on every future birthday, and all the nights in between.
But she hadn’t wanted to trap him in a moment of misplaced guilt. If Harry was going to ask for her hand, she wanted him to mean it.
A distant knock sounded on the Gladwells’ front door. The darning fell from Bianca’s hands.
Harry had come, just as he’d said he would!
She leapt to her feet and took a step toward the door before turning right back around and retaking her seat on the sofa before the fire. She didn’t want to seem overeager and desperate. It was better to await him here. The parlor was full of flowers from men whose marital enthusiasm had sparked the moment they’d learned of her dowry.
Harry was a fortune-hunter too, of that there was no doubt. But unlike all of these other gentlemen, Harry’s interest in Bianca was genuine, and had been present from the start. If anyone deserved the dowry, it was him. He could save his family, just like he’d saved Bianca, and they would live happily ever—
Footsteps sounded in the corridor.
She scooped the discarded stockings up from the floor and feigned great interest in applying herself to darning a hole in the heel.
“Bianca?” came Goose’s voice from the open doorway. “Your evil stepmother is here.”
“I’m not her stepmother,” Lady Quinseley snapped.
Bianca jerked her gaze up in surprise.
The countess stood at the entrance to the parlor with a lumpy burlap sack in her hands. She thrust the parcel at Goose. “Here. I found this pile of apples on your property.”
Goose stared at the burlap sack, perplexed. “What am I supposed to do with them?”
