you needed them the most. When given a choice, those he’d loved had chosen someone else.
His heart thudded so loudly he thought she must hear. Sophie had no choice if she wanted to remain within society—she had to marry him. Just now he’d taken every other option from her.
Because of her desire to appear virtuous, she wouldn’t abandon him, even if she found out what he was truly like. Even if she found out that his mother had not wanted him and his father wasn’t interested in him beyond what was required of his duty.
It bothered him that a small piece of him wanted her to have a choice. For once he wanted someone to choose him, but he also knew he wasn’t prepared to take the risk. He’d deal with the consequences later. He’d trust Sophie’s desire to appear virtuous would outweigh any need to escape from the marriage.
‘There are two people in this carriage, Sophie. You kissed me back, more than dutifully kissed me. There was passion in your kiss and I heard your cry when I suckled your breasts. You enjoyed it. But you deserve better than this for your first time. You deserve white sheets and a closed door. You deserve time, rather than frenzy. It needs to be done properly, Sophie.’
‘It was wrong of me. It won’t happen again.’ Sophie stared straight ahead, not meeting his eye. ‘No one has to know.’
‘You are wrong there. You and I both know and I have little desire to forget.’
Tears brimmed in her eyes. It took all of his self-control not to pull her into his arms. But he had gone too far already. He had to make certain she would be his. He refused to risk losing her. Once her former guardian returned, the objections to his suit would overwhelm her desire for him. He had to act now. He had to be ruthless about it.
‘But we can be strong,’ she whispered.
‘This thing between us is growing. It is not diminishing.’ He lifted her hand to his lips. ‘Say you feel it as well and it is not just me who is waking every night in a hot sweat with your name on my lips and the dream of you in my arms.’
Sophie knew he was right. The ache in her middle had grown and she knew she craved his touch. For the past ten days, she’d woken with her hand between her legs, a nameless ache in her middle and Richard’s name ringing in her ears. Every night she promised herself that this time she’d dream of something else and she never did.
During the day, she found herself hoping that he would call unexpectedly and reliving each one of his accidental touches when he was not there. She had taken to sketching the shape of his eyes, the way his hands looked when they held his cane and the curve of his mouth, most especially the curve of his mouth.
She wanted to feel ashamed about what she had done in the carriage, but she found it was impossible. He made her feel womanly and desirable. He was right. She might be wicked, but he was totally different from Sebastian. He had stopped it before she was utterly ruined. It had been him to pull back, not her, and she’d know that to her dying day.
She shook her head and tried to get control of her wayward thoughts. There were so many reasons why they needed to end it today, before the unthinkable happened and she was utterly ruined. But she could not bear the thought of never seeing him again, never hearing his voice or having his lips against hers. But he had said nothing of marriage.
‘I suppose it is best that no one discovered us.’ She waited for his agreement.
‘And if I say that I want you in my bed? I want to spend hours exploring your body? I want to see your golden hair spread out against white-linen sheets. I want to see what moonlight does to your skin. I want to wake up in the morning and have your face be the first thing I see.’
‘It can’t happen.’ She forced her shoulders to relax. The picture he painted was doing strange things to her insides. He had only mentioned desire, she reminded her rebellious heart. And she knew where that led. She refused to go back to that room where she felt unclean and sordid, even for Richard. Silently she bid the picture goodbye. A deep empty well opened within her. Richard Crawford was precisely like Sebastian Cawburn and she’d be wrong to forget that. She’d refused his first offer, had insisted on this sham and why would he ask her again, particularly now when he knew what she was like? ‘You are wrong to ask me.’
‘It can happen.’ He leant forwards and smoothed a tendril of hair from her forehead. ‘It can, Sophie.’
‘How?’ she whispered from aching lips. ‘How can it? If I do that I will be outside society and I refuse to behave that way, even for you, Richard. How can you ask this of me, knowing all that, knowing my background?’
‘You wrong me.’ He gathered her in his arms and pressed his mouth to her hair. ‘There is only one remedy, Sophie. We must marry.’
She leant back against his arms and tried to ignore the sudden leaping of her heart. He wanted to marry her! He was asking her again. She quashed the thought. Men like him dealt in some day, not in reality. They were back to where they had started. ‘You mean in due course. Some day. Easy words, but you are asking me to take an unacceptable risk.’
He laced his fingers through her hand. ‘No, I mean as soon as possible. A special licence. I take full responsibility for what happened here and I would never insult you by making you my mistress. My honour gives me no alternative but to make you my wife … if you will have me.’
‘A special licence?’ Her heart thudded. Richard was utterly serious. And despite her actions, he was prepared to behave honourably. She’d wronged him in thinking he wasn’t safe in carriages. It was she who wasn’t, but this time it had worked out.
‘Neither of us is made of steel. The next time, we might not be so lucky and we might be discovered. The choice would be taken out of your hands. Either marriage to me, or confess to your stepmother on your own and you know she will look at your state of undress and make the logical conclusion.’
‘But … but …’ Sophie tried to think of a logical reason while her heart soared. Richard was right. They could be married by a special licence. Given Richard’s family background, there would be no problem in getting a licence. He wanted to truly marry her. He felt the same way about her. He had to. She put her hand to her head. Against the odds, he had proposed a second time. If she refused, there would be no third time.
He placed a gentle kiss on the corner of her mouth. The touch was filled with possibility. ‘Say yes, Sophie. Put me out of my agony. Or let me go, but don’t keep torturing me in this way. Say yes, Sophie, and come into my bed. Be my wife, please.’
She knew in that instant she couldn’t allow him to go, even though he had not mentioned finer feelings or love. He made her feel alive. If he went, the world would be a miserable place. She had to take the greatest risk of her life. She had to believe in the romance. She had to do it or face a lifetime of wondering what might have been. He might not have said anything about his finer feelings, but she had to believe in them. She wanted to believe in this improbable romance.
‘Yes,’ she whispered back. ‘We will marry as soon as possible.’
‘Sophie! What on earth has happened to you?’ Her stepmother’s outraged voice greeted Sophie the instant she walked in the door. And she knew Richard’s ministrations as a lady’s maid had failed.
As she caught sight of her hair, her ripped blouse and her overly kissed mouth in the hall mirror confirmed her hunch. There was no hiding what she had done. She was only thankful that Richard had immediately ordered the carriage to start
