Chapter Twenty-One
Con’s thoughts drifted as he held Rowena snugly to him. He finally knew the bliss which his sisters and cousins felt with their spouses. Soon, Rowena would be the Countess of Marley. He would show off his new countess with pride.
The only family she had that he was aware of was Viscount Samuel.
Naturally, she would wish for him to be present at their wedding.
Or perhaps there were distant relatives he did not know about yet.
He seemed to recall that she had mentioned an aunt, but he did not know where she lived or how close Rowena was to her.
What he did know was that he wanted to wed this remarkable woman as soon as possible.
He felt he had already wasted enough time and was eager to capture every moment he possibly could with her, a bright future ahead of them.
Still, she might actually want the banns read and a wedding which took place within a church.
Rowena no longer had any ties to town, so she might wish for the ceremony to be held in Mossleigh.
Most likely, she would also wish to see her two friends wed, as well.
Con almost woke her so that they might plan for their rest of their lives.
He would not do that, however. For now, the world was held at bay. It was just the two of them in her cozy cottage, no others intruding.
She began to stir, and he waited for her to fully awaken, hoping she would not be too sore after their lovemaking because he wished to couple with her again. Con inhaled deeply, catching the faint scent of roses which clung to her skin and hair.
Then she looked over her shoulder, and he brushed a kiss upon her cheek.
She began turning her body toward him, their lips meeting in a hungry kiss.
He could sense the passion running through her and knew she was made for lovemaking.
He had heard cases of other gentlemen wedding, ones who barely touched their wives, only doing so because they needed an heir off them.
It would not be like that between the two of them.
They would learn from one another what pleased the other.
He would teach her—and Rowena would teach him, as well.
Just as his lips had roamed over her body earlier, hers now did the same to him. Her tongue teased his nipple, bringing a surge of hot desire tearing through him.
He caught her chin, raising it, their gazes meeting.
“You do know that you are playing with fire, my lady.”
“I find I am drawn to fire, my lord,” she said saucily, causing them both to laugh.
He let her explore his body until he could take it no longer, knowing he was ready to spend at any moment. Lifting her by her waist, Con settled her above him, slowly lowering her onto his enlarged cock. Her eyes widened in surprise—and then delight—as she took him in.
“You set the pace, love,” he told her. “You are the one in charge now.”
“I find I rather like this position,” she purred as she began to move against him.
He groaned, holding lightly on to her waist, allowing her free rein. At first, she moved slowly, getting her bearings, and then, she confidently rode him. When Con came, it was an explosion, a greater fulfillment than he had ever reached before with any other woman.
Rowena laughed with sheer joy, collapsing atop him, kissing his chest and nibbling her way up it to his neck.
He groaned and asked, “Who knew how sensitive my neck could be?”
Her lips finally reached his, and they kissed deeply. If she were already so skilled after two rounds of love play, what would she be like in a month? A year?
Con looked forward to finding out.
She eased off him and turned to her side, resting her head in her hand, her elbow propped up on the pillow.
“My sincere thanks to you, Con.”
“For what?” he asked, reaching out and brushing his fingers lovingly along her cheek.
“For giving me this incredible experience. Something I never thought I would ever participate in.”
He chuckled low. “Well, we will be participating frequently, I hope. May we talk of when our wedding might take place?”
She jerked away, sitting upright. “What? A wedding? There is to be no wedding,” she said, shaking her head.
A sick feeling washed over him. “Rowena,” he said calmly. “You do realize we will wed now. After what we have done.”
“No,” she protested, climbing from the bed.
He did the same, placing his hands on her bare shoulders. “I have always given you the choice. When you asked for us to couple, I asked you if you knew what it meant. You said you did.”
“Of course, I knew what it meant,” she said sharply. “It meant I would no longer be a virgin. That I would have lain with a man. Made love with him.”
“True,” he said. “But it also meant that we would wed.”
“I did not consent to a marriage with you, Con,” she insisted, angrily shaking his hands from her shoulders. She reached for her dressing gown and quickly slipped into it, knotting the belt as she glared up at him.
“Rowena, I never would have agreed to make love to you if I did not think we would then wed. Surely, you understand that.”
“What I understand is that I do not wish to wed. You—or anyone else. I thought I had made myself perfectly clear regarding this. That you know I had no plans to ever wed.”
Confused, he asked, “Then why did we engage in lovemaking? And do not tell me it was to satisfy your intellectual curiosity.”
“I did not believe I would ever have an opportunity to couple with a man,” she explained. “Then you gave me the chance to do so. While I enjoyed it a great deal, I am not going to marry you, Con. I must ask you to leave now.”
“Leave? I am not leaving until we settle this matter between us. If you want the banns read as Lady Sarah and Miss Tweedham want done, I am perfectly willing to wait those three weeks. My personal preference would be to purchase a bishop’s license—or even go to London and seek a special license there.
But we will marry, Rowena. There is no question about that. ”
Con watched her jaw set stubbornly.
“In order for a couple to wed, both must agree to do so. I will not agree to a marriage of any kind, be it in the Mossleigh parish church or running away to Gretna Green with you, my lord.”
“Oh, so we are now back to ‘my lord’ and not ‘Con.’ How could you be so intimate with me and deny a marriage between us?”
He took her hands in his, holding fast when she tried to pull away. “Did you not feel the magic between us, Rowena? We could have that every day of our lives. I want you as my countess. I will have no other but you.”
“You will change your mind, Lord Marley. You will go to next Season as an earl, something you have never done before. Women will fall at your feet, fawning over you and fighting for you to make one of them your wife.”
Gritting his teeth, he said, “I do not wish for any of them. You are my choice, Rowena.”
“My choice is not to wed at all,” she said firmly. “I am going to have to ask you to leave now, my lord. Go back to the house party.”
Stunned, Con gathered up his clothing and quickly dressed. Heading to the door, he looked at her. Her arms were protectively crossed in front of her, her golden-brown hair spilling about her wildly.
“This is far from being over,” he said. “You will come to your senses.”
“I have made my decision. It is final.”
He tossed the one weapon he had left at her.
“What if we just made a babe, Rowena? What if you are now with child? My child. Would you have a bastard? Raise a child without its father? You know how cruel others in the ton can be because you have been affected by the gossip in Polite Society. Would you subject our child to such a dismal future?”
His arrow had hit the mark. Her mouth trembled.
“We will address that—if we need to,” she said brusquely. “For now, I wish you to leave.”
He knew there would be no reasoning with her now, so Con left the cottage, childishly slamming the door behind him.
He went to the horse he had left tied in front of her cottage.
Mounting it, he rode swiftly back to Pebblestone.
When he reached the stables, he handed off the reins to a groom and stormed back to the house.
It was quiet, which let him know the others still were at the beach.
Lady Jewell had continued to ask for a picnic by the water, and Lady Pebble finally told them this morning at breakfast that would be the case.
The viscountess warned them that they would have to sit upon blankets and eat from hampers provided by her cook, but everyone seemed pleased by the idea of dining at the water’s edge.
He had made his excuses, not wanting anyone to know he was going to check on Rowena.
Con returned to his bedchamber, pacing furiously, his mind swirling as he recalled their final words.
How could she refuse him?
He was an earl of the realm. Charming. Handsome. Wealthy. Affable. It was ridiculous for Rowena to turn down his suit when he could give her the world. Did she do so out of some misplaced sense of pride?
And then it struck him.
He had not once mentioned the fact that he loved her.
That should have been the first thing that came from his lips, not demanding she dance to the tune he set.
A rush of emotions swept through him, knowing he had made a huge mistake.
Telling Rowena that he loved her had been the most important thing, yet he had neglected to do so.
Con wanted to immediately return to her cottage, but he feared she would not open the door to him.
He decided to wait until she returned to Pebblestone.
He doubted she would do so today or even later this evening.
It would be difficult, but he would need to carry on as if nothing had changed—when everything had changed for him.
All Con knew was that if Rowena did not agree to wed him, he would never wed at all.