Chapter 4
Chapter Four
It took Augusta a moment to come out of the fog of her need long enough to realize why that mattered. But when she did, she could have crowed her delight. If that was all that stood in their way …
“I don’t care about the rules of affinity,” she said. “We are not brother and sister in any sense. It’s ludicrous that first cousins can marry and no one blinks an eye, but people like us, with no connection by blood, aren’t allowed to do so.”
She stopped short as she realized what she’d said. Oh, Lord, she’d practically proposed marriage to him. For all she knew, his kissing her had just been some unusual response to his lack of a good night’s sleep and their previous kiss—not a profession of undying love. How foolish of her.
Releasing his shoulders, she pulled free of him. “Forgive me. That was beyond presumptuous. I realize you probably didn’t mean anything by your kisses, and I didn’t intend for you to think I was trying to force you into … well …”
“Damn it to hell.” His thick rumble of a voice resonated from her skin to her bones. He raked his hand through his hair distractedly. “What kind of scoundrel do you take me for? Of course I meant something by it. I’m not the sort of chap to engage in kissing lightly.”
Half fearing he might see his effect on her, she pulled her shawl closer. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean you want … that you would like to …”
“Marry you?” His eyes softened, soothing her shattered pride. “If matters were different, I’d like nothing better than to have you for my wife.”
Before she could even exult at that admission, he added, in a clipped tone, “But as it is, sweetheart, it’s impossible.”
Sweetheart. There was that delicious endearment again.
It gave her the courage to fight him. To fight for him.
“I don’t see why. It does happen, you know.
Men do marry their late wives’ sisters from time to time.
Granted, they have to go to the Continent to wed in a church and then return to England after the gossip dies down.
But it’s not as if it’s actually illegal to marry one’s sister-in-law. ”
“It might as well be.” A bleak expression crossed his face, and he walked swiftly past her to stare out of the window overlooking the street.
“If anyone in the family objects, he or she can have the marriage declared void. And that would be a disaster. The woman would be disgraced, and the children born in such an instance would be considered bastards in the eyes of the law.”
She hadn’t known that. But it didn’t matter, and he knew it. “I have no family but Lionel, and you have no other family but your mother. Neither of them would object or try to void the marriage. Your mother likes me, and Lionel—”
“—might strike back at us for ruining his silly hoax by ruining our marriage.”
Fear dropped like a stone into her stomach. “He wouldn’t do that.”
“You can’t be sure. And I won’t risk it.” He’d drawn himself up again, all male pride and dignity. “Not when there’s a chance you could still marry some other man.”
“You would just stand by and watch me walk away?” She’d known he would be sensible about this, but she hadn’t thought it would hurt so deeply. “Well, thank you for that kindness, but if I can’t have you, I’m not going to marry anyone else.”
When he turned to face her, looking utterly shocked, she stared him down. “So don’t fool yourself that you’re thrusting me aside for my own good. The only person you’re doing this for is you. Because you’re afraid to risk some gossip and scandal for the sake of love.”
“Love?” He marched back to her. “This isn’t about love. It’s about desire, about the lure of the forbidden.”
“For whom? You?” Tears clogged her throat. “Because it’s certainly not about that for me.”
“Augusta, you’re still young. It’s easy to mistake desire for love at your age.”
His placating tone made her want to lash out.
“Because that’s what you did with Esther?
What Esther did with you?” She was sure she’d hit the nail on the head when he flinched.
“I’m not Esther, and I’m certainly not you.
But if you feel only the ‘lure of the forbidden’ for me, it’s probably best that I know it now. ”
Her heart hammered so hard she feared it might burst out of her chest. “Even so, it doesn’t change what I feel one whit. I love you, Mason. And that’s not going to go away simply because you shove me into some other man’s arms.”
Then turning on her heel, she left the room.
* * *
I love you, Mason.
Over the next few hours, he couldn’t get the words out of his head, even after half the morning came and went with no sign of Lionel.
His plan was falling down about his ears, and all he could think about was Augusta’s words. Before she’d walked away and begun avoiding him as thoroughly as he’d avoided her the last few weeks. He felt the bite of her absence like an asp to his chest.
She loved him. Or rather, she thought she loved him. That’s all it was.
You’re afraid to risk some gossip and scandal for the sake of love.
No, she was wrong. He wasn’t afraid of anything. Except the possibility of never getting to kiss her again, hold her again.
He swore under his breath. Desire, damn it! Nothing more than that. It had a powerful allure, but that didn’t mean it should dictate his actions.
Frustrated, he strode to the window to look out for the hundredth time, then froze. Lionel stood across the street, staring up at the broad swaths of black crape they’d placed so carefully. His face was the color of ash, and he was alone. If his friends had come with him, they were long gone now.
Leaving the window, Mason went in search of Augusta. He didn’t have to go far. She nearly ran into him as he came out of the drawing room.
“Lionel’s here,” she said in a low voice.
“I know.”
Her worried expression made him ache to pull her into his arms and wipe it away, make it all better for her. Make her life better for her.
That was when he knew. It wasn’t mere desire he felt for her. It was something damned well more.
A knock came at the front door, giving both of them a start. One of the servants headed toward it, and Augusta opened her mouth as if to call him back.
“Let him answer it,” Mason murmured. “We need to see what Lionel intends.”
She nodded, but he could feel her distress like a blow to his gut. It hurt. How could it hurt like that? He’d never felt that way for Esther.
Yes, that was the problem precisely. He never had.
The door opened, and the footman recited his rehearsed speech. “There is no exhibit here, sir. The paper got it wrong. And seeing as we’ve had a death in the family—”
“Actually, that’s why I’ve come.” Even from where they stood, they could hear the regret in Lionel’s voice. “I wish . . . I need to speak to the master of the house. It’s important.”
The footman glanced to Mason, and Mason nodded.
As soon as Lionel walked inside, he spotted Mason and Augusta. He stopped short, shock spreading over his face. But it was rapidly replaced by fury.
He marched up to Mason with hands clenched at his sides. “You! You did this . . . this terrible thing to ruin my life!”
“Lionel!” Augusta cried. “Don’t speak to Mason like that. His quick thinking saved you from a possible scandal.”
Lionel flushed. “He ‘saved’ me from the woman I love.”
Mason wanted to shake the tow-headed rascal. “And this is how you treat the mother of the woman you claim to love? By playing an April Fool’s Day joke on her to upset her life and bring shame upon your family?”
“It wasn’t a joke!” When they eyed him askance, Lionel muttered, “It wasn’t, I swear. It was supposed to look like one, but we were really just trying to keep her mother occupied with all those people so that Pamela could slip away and run off with me to Scotland.”
They could only stare at him, stunned.
“It was an elopement.” A scowl knit his brow. “Until you ruined it, that is.”
“An elopement?” Augusta cried. “You’re only seventeen!”
“I’m almost eighteen,” Lionel protested.
Mason rolled his eyes. “That’s still too young to marry, you fool! What were you thinking?”
“It’s not too young.” Lionel squared his shoulders as if that would somehow make him older. “And I was thinking that I didn’t want to end up like you two.”
They gaped at him. Then Mason rasped, “What do you mean?”
Lionel’s eyes, the same green as his sister’s, bore into him with obvious contempt. “Anybody can see that you’re mad for Augusta. The way you talk about her, the way you treat her . . . Why, you stare at her practically all the time, thinking nobody notices, when really everybody notices.”
His blood pounded in his ears. “Like who?”
“Me. The servants. The Dowager Countess. Everybody. And when you’re gone, Augusta moons about the house and snaps at me.
Meanwhile, you’re here in London probably mooning about the town house and snapping at .
. . I don’t know . . . your servants, I suppose.
All because you’re both desperate for each other and too stupid to do anything about it. ”
Mason could hardly breathe. Here he’d thought he’d been hiding his feelings so well. Good God.
Lionel thrust out his chin. “Well, you and Augusta may enjoy pretending you don’t feel anything, but I’m not going to live my life like that.
I’m not going to let silly things like my age or Mrs. Bowman’s stupid objections or gossip or any of that keep me from being with Pamela.
I love her. And that’s all that matters to me. ”
“Don’t waste your breath speaking of love to Mason,” Augusta put in. “He only believes in the ‘lure of the forbidden.’”
The pain in her voice reminded him of the idiotic lies he’d told her. And himself.
He stared at Lionel. This pup had more courage than he’d ever had. At least Lionel was willing to face his feelings, foolish though they might be.
“Stay here,” he commanded the lad. “This discussion is not over. But your sister and I need a moment alone.”