4
Robert frowned as he took the second list from Miss Hawkins’s trembling hands. She had gone pale and was obviously more nervous about presenting him with this list than she had been about walking up to him in the ballroom and proposing marriage to a stranger.
He offered her a reassuring smile but was not certain she received the message. At least, it only made her look even more in pain than before.
He was still not certain when he had made the decision.
He had only gone into the garden with her to best her cousin and turn her down politely.
He asked out of curiosity how she would make a marriage to a stranger work and then how she logistically would pull off marrying him by midnight.
He had been impressed with how thought-through her plan was, despite the haste.
Her choice of groom might be rash, but her decision to marry certainly was not. She had thought about every aspect as much as she was able to. Her demands had resonated with him. He figured it was when she mentioned the children and the fact that they would raise them together.
Suddenly he saw a glimpse of the large family he had always envisioned: The ruckus when the children were brought into the sitting room at Riddlesmarsh Hall in the afternoon and the entire family would spend time together.
How he would bounce the youngest on his knee, while reprimanding someone for not running inside, until everyone settled down and listened to Miss Hawkins reading out loud.
The children caught by her vivid telling of the story.
It had been such a powerful image that he had to at least try to see if her version of the future could fit with his and it had.
For some reason, she had agreed to five children instead of three and he had agreed to not send his sons to Eton until the age of twelve.
And the way she had looked at him afterwards…
He had been attracted to her from the start, but it seemed that she too was attracted to him.
Which meant that he felt the prickle of nerves as he unfolded her second list. It was obvious she feared that the list would make him reject her, and now he felt it too.
Because it would be so easy to marry her. He would not have to court anyone next season. Not having to choose and then feign an interest. Miss Hawkins’ attitude toward marriage meant that they already knew where they stood.
“Week one:
Become acquainted with one another. We will talk about our pasts, likings and plans for the future to understand each other better. Touching will be limited to what is strictly necessary and which would be acceptable in public: helping in and out of carriages, escorting on arm, etcetera.
Week two:
Achieve a greater sense of intimacy through holding hands, placing a hand at the small of the back, touching an arm or a shoulder. Toward the end of the week, we will kiss each other’s cheeks.”
Robert looked at Miss Hawkins when he realized what this list meant.
Her cheeks were crimson and she was staring at the flagstones at her feet.
This woman certainly thought of everything.
When she did not meet his eyes, he returned to the list eager to know how she would address the more intimate matters.
“Week three:
Kissing on the mouth. Toward the end of the week, we will touch each other’s bodies outside of our clothes.
Week Four:
Day 1-3: Touching each other’s bodies in undergarments or nightgowns.
Day 4-6: Touching each other’s naked bodies.
Day 7: Intercourse”
Robert felt his mouth dry and his groin tighten the further he read.
Even though he had looked forward to bedding her tonight, he could sense that this was important to her. Perhaps even more important than the other list. His reaction to this would set the tone for the rest of their marriage.
“I have no comments on this,” he said when he was certain his voice would not betray his desire. It still sounded a little hoarse to his own ears, but he hoped the two ladies would not notice.
He saw Miss Hawkins’s shoulders sag with relief, and he sensed that his instincts had been correct.
“I have one condition though before I sign both documents,” he told her and held up the two pieces of paper.
Miss Hawkins stiffened again.
“I would like to kiss you.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again. He had the sense that she was rarely rendered speechless and rejoiced secretly at the idea that he had managed it.
“Wha… Why?” she finally managed.
“I recognize that you would need time before you are able to be intimate with me. And I respect that. But physical intimacy is also an important part of marriage, and I would like to make certain that we are compatible – before we marry.”
He held his breath as he waited for her to reply.
She was biting her lip in the most charming way as she thought, and he struggled to keep his expression blank and unreadable.
He was fairly certain she desired him, and a kiss seemed the quickest way to determine it.
If she was not willing, he did not know how else they could figure it out; perhaps her clever and unusual mind could come up with another idea, although he already knew he liked his best.
“Fi… Fine,” Miss Hawkins relented.
She looked him briefly in the eye before her gaze drifted away again. He sensed her chaperone turning away from them but did not pay her any heed as he slowly approached his future wife.
She was looking at him with large eyes, and it was written all over her face that this was her first kiss. His groin tightened again at the thought that he would be her first everything. Her scent drifted toward him. She smelled like a sweet sea breeze. Or was it something he imagined?
Of course, she did not smell like roses or jasmine like any other lady but had a unique scent that was all her. It only amplified his desire for her, and he had to remind himself that they were in public and that it was her first kiss.
He gently placed his hand on her jaw and cursed inwardly over the fact that he was still wearing gloves, but there was nothing to be done about it.
He had no intention of stopping to remove them.
He gently tipped her head back until he reached the perfect angle for him to meet her lips.
She was not a tall woman, but not awkwardly short either.
The perfect height he thought, as he slowly lowered his lips towards her.
So slowly that she would have time to move away if she wanted to. If she changed her mind.
She did not though. Instead, her breathing became shallow, and he felt her exhales fan over the lower part of his face.
Her breath was sweet, smelling of the fruit punch they had served at the party.
He lingered another moment, his lips almost meeting hers, and then she moved forward the way he had hoped and closed the distance between them.
He smiled against her lips, before he moved his own to deepen the kiss beyond a mere peck. Her lips were as soft as they looked.
Miss Hawkins gave a sound of surprise but then sighed again. Deeper this time. He had thought to merely kiss her lips, to make certain that he could ignite that ember of desire he had seen in her eyes earlier.
But when she sighed and her mouth opened beneath his, he could not help but slide his tongue between her lips and taste her as well.
She tasted as sweet as her breath smelled.
He groaned at the feeling of her eager tongue meeting his and her gloved hands clutching his sleeves as she pressed closer to him and moaned softly. Heavens, he wanted to…
“Riddles, what the deuce are you doing?” he heard Thornston shout and reluctantly pried himself away from Miss Hawkins.
He did not look at Thornston, whom he heard approaching, but at Miss Hawkins, who was staring back at him with even wider eyes and parted lips.
Blast it, he wanted to kiss her again. So much more than kiss her.
Balance her on the balustrade and dive under her skirt.
But he had just agreed to wait a whole month.
“Riddles,” Thornston said beside him and Robert pried his attention away from Miss Hawkins and looked at his friend.
Thornston was wearing a rare frown, and his hands were on his hips.
“I have been looking for you all over. And then I find you here, seducing an innocent. Seriously, Riddles, what are you thinking?”
It showed that his friend at least had some honor when he thought it would be too much if Robert had started seducing innocents. Although that seemed to be the only line Thornston had in regards to who he bedded.
“May I present the future Duchess of Riddlesmarsh?” Robert said in a smug tone, which made Thornston stop in front of them.
“The… what? Are you seriously going along with this asinine plan?” Thornston asked and gestured toward Jo in a way that made Robert feel protective of her.
“I am, yes,” Robert told him in a voice meant to convey that he had no time for arguments. “How much time do we have, Mrs. Oakley?” he asked the chaperone.
“Twenty minutes, Your Grace,” she answered as she came toward them.
Thornston’s grey eyes widened with surprise at seeing her there.
“Good,” Robert said.
He turned toward the balustrade and signed both documents with a flourish, then handed them to Miss Hawkins, who bent and signed them as well. He relished the way her arm brushed against his when she bent forward. This month could not end soon enough, he thought.
“You are just in time for the wedding,” Robert told Thornston as he pocketed both lists, offered Miss Hawkins his arm and urged her to lead the way.
The carriage was parked in front of the house and both Mr. Oakley, a tall man with dark hair, and a man of the cloth were indeed waiting inside.
“Robert, what are you doing?” Thornston asked in a low urgent voice when Robert stepped aside to sign the financial contract against the side of the carriage.
Mr. Oakley had explained the details in it and Robert had briefly looked over them in the light from the carriage lantern.
Thornston rarely called Robert by his given name, and it showed his concern. Robert could spare his oldest friend half a minute to properly reassure him. He turned to him still with the paper and quill in his hands.
“I am getting married. This is much easier and more efficient than spending next season looking for a bride,” he told his friend calmly.
It seemed like the easiest explanation for now.
He had no way to convey the feeling that he desperately wanted to bed Miss Hawkins and that he felt certain that their marriage would be mutually beneficial.
Thornston would think Robert had gone mad if he told his friend of the children.
Robert hardly understood how he could feel so assured that this was a good idea himself.
“Are you certain?” Thornston asked quietly, insistently.
Robert looked into his eyes and nodded.
Thornston cursed under his breath.
“Your mother will skin me alive for not stopping you. You know she is adamant about planning a grand wedding for you.”
“My mother would never harm you. She cares deeply for you,” Robert assured his friend, who seemed to be at least a little appeased by this.
He walked over to Mr. Oakley who pocketed the paper and suddenly they were all standing in the dark in front of the priest. On the street outside of the Thistleworth residence. It seemed to dawn on all of them just how unfit the place was for a wedding.
“Not here,” Mrs. Oakley exclaimed before anyone else had the chance.
“There is no time to go anywhere else, Beatrice,” Miss Hawkins told her.
She did not seem the type to fantasize about a large wedding at Saint Paul’s Cathedral with five hundred people invited, but she must have envisioned a place more solemn than this.
“Can we use the garden at least?” her friend asked and gestured to Grosvenor Square just up the road. She sent Robert a questioning look, and he nodded as he patted his pocket. He did have his key for the garden in the middle of the square.
The whole party walked over there, Robert and Miss Hawkins stood in front of the priest again, and suddenly it was happening. The man of the cloth recited the vows, and they repeated them.
Robert looked into Miss Hawkins’ eyes as he said the crucial words that would bind him to her forever.
He wanted her to know that he was entering the marriage with his eyes open.
Miss Hawkins’s eyes strayed from his from time to time, as she repeated her own vows.
But her voice was clear and no one could be in doubt that this was a match of her own choosing.
Ten minutes later, they were in his carriage on their way to his townhouse.