Chapter Thirty-Two
Emily
She gazed up at him, puzzled by his statement but eager to please him.
“You may ask me anything, Wylder,” she replied softly.
“Do you desire a ceremony with our families and acquaintances in attendance?” Using his forefinger, Wylder tilted her chin higher. “Waiting will satisfy the gossip and the scandal that is sure to erupt now that our relationship is no longer a secret.”
“Or?” Emily breathed, her tongue darted out to lick her upper lip nervously.
“Or would you marry me as soon as I can make the arrangements?” He sounded curious as to what her answer might be. Did he wonder if she would choose the safer option? Because any proper young lady of the ton would seek to avoid scandal at all costs.
But Emily was no ordinary, proper young lady. She was a woman in love with a scandalous rakehell. And she wanted Lord Wylder St. Clair of Wyldewood as much as he wanted her.
“Oh, Wylder…” Her breath caught in her throat, tears pricking her eyes as her world narrowed to the man before her.
She witnessed in his face not just desire, but a desperate devotion.
It was a longing so fierce and powerful that it made her heart tremble.
“Do you believe that I would wait a moment longer when I’ve spent an eternity hoping for this moment?
I care nothing for wagging tongues. I only care that I am with you. ”
“Then marry me now, Emily.” His voice was harsh with emotion, and as Emily watched in dazed amazement, he slid to one knee before her.
“Marry me not in months, nor weeks, but now. Any scandal our wedding creates will dissolve beneath the certainty of my devotion to you. If this is your choice, then let us bind ourselves to one another tonight.” From his coat pocket, Wylder withdrew a ring.
The large diamond glittered with such brilliance that it appeared to have been crafted from rays of moonlight and fire.
Emily’s body trembled with wild excitement as Wylder carefully stripped her gloves away, taking care of her injured wrist. The ring was slid onto her finger, where it sparkled as brightly as any star in the ebony dark sky above them.
“This is just one piece of the St. Clair jewels. My father, even with his mountain of debts, did not dare gamble these away. When I informed them today that you’d agreed to marry me, my mother wept with joy.
She insisted I take this ring to give to you.
Her exact words were that the future Duchess of Claymore and mother of her grandchildren deserved the very best from the St. Clair coffers.
As for my father, he puffed out his chest and claimed victory in the fact that I will settle down at last and save our bloodline and estates.
I let him bluster since I hold all the power when it comes to his excesses.
However, I must give the man credit. Once the Archbishop realized I was the son of the Duke of Claymore, my application for a special license was granted within the hour.
” Wylder kissed the tips of Emily’s bare fingers, gazing up at her with dark intensity as his breath warmed her skin.
“And so, it comes to this. Will you become my wife tonight, Emily?”
“Yes,” Emily breathed. She was decidedly lightheaded as reality crashed over her. This was truly happening. She would be Wylder’s bride—his wife. “Oh, yes, Wylder.”
Wylder’s face lit with unabashed relief as he grinned.
“Then let’s not keep Thorne Park’s vicar waiting in vain.
Come with me now, my love. The arrangements have been made for us to exchange our vows tonight.
I hoped you would say yes, so I’ve instructed your maid to begin packing your belongings and ready them for delivery within the next few days. ”
“My belongings?” Emily repeated, so overwhelmed by the turn of events that her brain could not keep up with the conversation.
“As soon as we are wed, we shall leave for Wyldewood Lodge, my country estate in Kent. And if you are worried about what you will wear before then, then you must know I intend for you to spend that time naked and in my bed.”
“But, the ball, Wylder! And all of the guests… my parents… Lord and Lady Ashcroft… whatever will they think when they learn I’ve stolen away with you? And Simon. Oh, Simon will likely be furious that you did not tell him of your plans.”
“It might be the most shocking headline for tomorrow’s gossip sheets, but the moment I arrived this evening, I sought out your parents.
They gave their permission for us to wed tonight, provided you said yes.
They will announce our wedding not as a disgrace, but as a victory.
They will say that our love for one another could not wait another day, and everyone will secretly envy our boldness in doing what we want rather than what society deems proper.
” Wylder pulled Emily up from the bench, his strong, muscled arms wrapping about her waist. Bending his head, he nuzzled his nose alongside hers.
“Are we truly doing this, Wylder?” Emily laughed in disbelief. Surely this was a dream. A wild, vivid dream where joy fluttered around her insides and left her giddy with love for this man. “Are you certain that we should?”
Wylder took a deep breath and kissed the tip of Emily’s nose as he confessed softly, “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life, Emily Blackthorne. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
*
The coach rumbled through the evening mist, the hooves of the matched bays setting a rhythmic beat on the dirt road.
The countryside rushed past in shadows and moonlight, unfurling toward the dawn with every mile that passed.
Emily pressed her cheek to her husband’s shoulder, closing her eyes as exhaustion threatened to overtake her.
She still wore her ballgown, the pale-violet silk with its expensive beadwork shimmering in the coach’s lamplight and only partially covered by Wylder’s cloak.
She’d never done anything so reckless before in her life. Her body vibrated with the thrill of it.
Come morning, the truth of what she and Wylder had done would blaze across London like an errant comet. But she felt no regret. No shame. Just anticipation of what it would mean to be Wylder’s wife in truth.
“You should sleep, my love,” Wylder murmured, wedging himself in the corner of the coach and pulling her so that she half reclined against his chest, her cheek pressed to the spot over his heart. Emily smiled drowsily. It was impossible to heed his suggestion when she was so excited.
“If you will follow your own advice, my lord, I will try as well. I know you must be exhausted.”
“It’s not the first time I’ve gone almost twenty-four hours without sleep. I can hold on just a bit longer if it means providing you a small measure of comfort.” He chuckled against the top of her head. “Close your eyes now, minx.”
Emily tilted her head back, staring up at Wylder.
He was being so sweet. So tender and considerate.
Would he always be so indulgent when it came to her?
A needlelike twinge of worry assailed her.
Would he agree to help Penelope when it became necessary?
“I believe I need a kiss before I consider obeying you, husband.”
“Shall I kiss you as I did when the vicar declared us man and wife?”
A blush heated Emily’s cheeks. Mister Collins, Thorne Park’s vicar, had laughed softly at Wylder’s enthusiasm when it came to kissing his bride. “I think you scandalized the man. But yes, kiss me like that, lord husband.”
“Very well, Lady Wyldewood.” Wylder smiled, notching his hand under Emily’s chin so she could not escape the burning heat of his mouth.
He kissed her with slow, precise thoroughness, sweeping his tongue over hers, tangling and teasing until she was breathless and squirming against him.
When he finally drew back, his eyes were hot, silver coals, and his breath was ragged, as if he were holding himself back from ravishing her right there.
“Were you not suffering from a sprained wrist, and if you were not so tired, little minx, I would consider making you mine on this coach seat.” He traced the upper bow of her lip with the tip of his tongue, kissing her softly again as if he could not get enough of her taste.
“But I will exercise restraint for now so that I may take you at my leisure later. I shall spend hours learning your body and your responses to the things I do to you. I will savor the shocked gasp you make when our bodies finally join together as one. I will memorize the whimpers and little cries of passion that escape you as I bring you to climax on my tongue, on the tips of my fingers, and with my cock buried deep inside you.” Although her body trembled at his words, Wylder gently coaxed her into lying her head back down against his chest. “Now, go to sleep, brat,” he said, his voice husky with affection.
“You will certainly need your strength once I finally have you in my bed.”
Emily grumbled, but her eyes were already closing when she said, “I shall not always obey you, my lord. My obstinate nature will not allow it.”
She sensed Wylder’s smile in his lighthearted reply.
“I know. But you’ve no idea how much I will enjoy those instances of disobedience, my darling wife.” Raising her hand to his lips, he pressed a kiss to the ring she wore that proclaimed her as his as she drifted away. “And I promise you will as well.”