Chapter 11 #3
“I’ll speak to him this evening on the matter,” Sara added. “No doubt he’ll be delighted at my involvement.”
The devil he would. If he was, it meant that Ian possessed as little real interest in Felicity as he’d had in Lady Sophie and the Hastings girl. In such a case, it would be best for poor Felicity to discover that now.
But Sara doubted Ian wanted anyone’s interference in this matter. Sara had never seen the man so agitated by a woman, so reckless in his pursuit. God knows he’d never cornered Lady Sophie in her bedchamber.
If Sara’s instincts proved as correct as they usually did, he wouldn’t like what she told him tonight. Not one little bit.
Barely controlling his anger, Ian glared at Sara from his stance beside the fireplace in the card room. “What the hell do you mean—you plan to help me find a wife? I don’t want your help!”
“But Miss Taylor said you were adamant about needing hers.” Sara swept about the room, picking up a newspaper here, straightening a cushion there. “I don’t see why my help would be any less welcome.”
“Because I bloody well don’t want to marry you, that’s why!”
She cocked her head to stare thoughtfully at him. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
Her voice was entirely too smug. He searched her face with narrowed eyes. “Yes, you do. You’re too intelligent for your own good. And you know quite well that the best way for me to secure Felicity’s affections is to make her realize how badly she wants to marry me.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, it is, my meddling friend. She wants to marry me, and I’ll force her to admit it if I have to dance attendance on half of London’s eligible women in front of her!”
A sudden urge to smash one of Sara’s china figurines against the wall possessed him.
The last thing he wanted was Sara mucking things up, especially if it put more distance between him and Felicity.
He lowered his voice, striving for control.
“I appreciate your attempt to help, but I have this well in hand. I’ve already set my sights on the wife I want, and I don’t need you destroying all my plans. ”
“Good heavens, Ian, if she doesn’t want to marry you, why waste your time over it? Surely you don’t wish to have a wife who cares nothing for you.”
“She does care for me, no matter what she said. And she’d make me the perfect wife. She’s merely being stubborn about—” He broke off, suddenly conscious of Sara’s intent interest.
“About what?”
He narrowed his eyes on Sara. “How much did she tell you of our discussion?”
Sara looked as if she debated something, then shrugged. “Merely that she refused to marry you.”
“Did she say why?”
“She claimed you wouldn’t suit. Apparently, while she agrees that she’d make you the perfect wife, she’s not so sure you’d make her the perfect husband.”
He scowled. “That’s only because she doesn’t know me.”
“Or because she knows you too well.”
Her barb hit more deeply than he would have thought. “Thanks for all your confidence in me.”
She ignored his sharp tone. “Tell me, Ian, why do you think she’d make you the perfect wife? She’s not the sort of woman you always claim to prefer. She’s not quiet or docile. And she has a huge family that she’d expect you to support.”
“I can afford it.”
Sara inexplicably smiled. “Yes, I suppose you can. Then there is her very troublesome profession—”
“She told you about that?” he asked incredulously.
“Her identity as Lord X?” With an air of complete nonchalance, she sank into a plush chair. “Of course. She told me all about your little war.”
That stunned him briefly into silence. He hadn’t expected Felicity to reveal so much to Sara. What did it mean? And how would this affect his plans?
“I must say,” Sara went on, “that although her tale explained the events of the past few days, it shed no light on why the two of you should marry. Given your apparent disagreement on many matters, I would think you both rather unsuitable for each other.”
“Would you?” He glowered at her. “I suppose that means you’re on her side. You think she’s right to refuse me.”
She smoothed her skirts with sudden concentration. “Perhaps I’m on both sides.”
Striding up to where she sat, he bent down and braced his hands on the arms of her chair.
“Don’t play games with me, Sara. I’m not in the mood.
You can’t be on both sides. I want her to marry me, and she wishes to remain unencumbered.
So you must choose. Either help me or help her. Or stay out of the matter entirely.”
The infuriating woman merely smiled up at him. “I need more information before I make a decision.”
“What kind of information?”
“Do you love her?”
The words exploded in his brain. Love her? The subject hadn’t come up in his previous courtships. That it should do so with Felicity was disconcerting.
He shoved back from Sara’s chair. “Not all men marry for that reason. Just because you and your brother fancy yourselves in love with your spouses doesn’t mean it’s the same for everyone else.”
“Then why do you wish to marry her?”
“You know why,” he evaded. “For the same reason every man of my situation wishes to marry. Because I require a wife to run my household and bear my children.”
“Oh, of course. But why her? She’s beneath you in station, after all.”
“That didn’t matter to your stepfather, husband, or brother, so I don’t know why you think it would matter to me.”
“All right, so you don’t care about that. What do you care about that makes you think you should marry her?”
“She has four brothers,” he retorted, seizing upon a fact he’d scarcely considered until now. “Need I point out what that says about the likelihood she can bear me a son?”
“So can many women. You still haven’t told me what I wish to know. Why should I help you snag my friend as a wife when any woman will suit your purpose?”
Dragging his fingers through his hair, he glared at her. “You know she’s better off married to me than in her father’s old house tending four scamps and dabbling in gossip.”
“Are you so sure? She seems to enjoy her odd life. To my knowledge she has no financial difficulties, so she doesn’t need to marry you for money. But you haven’t answered my question. Why her?”
“Because I want her!” he burst out. “She’s the only one I want!”
He regretted his admission the moment he saw Sara’s delighted expression. With a groan, he shifted his gaze to the abandoned card table behind her. Damn the woman for pressing him into saying more than he’d intended.
But it was the truth. Felicity had stirred something primitive in him, something he thought he’d suppressed long ago.
Excitement. Passion. The sheer enjoyment of kissing a woman he truly desired.
Just when he’d resigned himself to doing his duty no matter the cost, she’d burst into his life like a fireworks display against a midnight sky.
Now he was addicted to the brightness she showered around her whenever she swept through a room. He ached to possess that brightness, to make it his own. He needed to possess her in every possible way. And he could only do that by marrying her.
His gaze shot back to Sara. “Well? Have I given you enough information? Will you help me win her? Or do you still think Felicity and I won’t suit?”
“Oh, I begin to think you’ll suit each other nicely.” She cast him a blazing, but enigmatic smile. “Yes, I’ll help you. Sit down, Ian. It’s time we made some plans.”