By the time Harrison discerned Maddie’s whereabouts, she was already engaged in conversation outside with the duke. Lockwood stood stiffly beside a carriage, while Maddie talked quite animatedly at his side. Crossing his arms, Harrison leaned against the doorjamb and openly watched. A better man would probably give the former couple privacy . . . but Harrison was not that man.
Instead, he didn’t move, just waited patiently for the conversation to end. Anticipation throbbed in his veins, a constant drumbeat of victory, reverberating with the knowledge that he and Maddie would be married by day’s end.
Married.
Fuck, he could not wait.
Lockwood’s gaze flicked toward Harrison, and the duke frowned when their eyes met. Harrison allowed a smug half smile to twist his lips. You lost, Your Grace. Do run along.
Lockwood murmured something to Maddie, then inclined his head before disappearing into the carriage. She stepped back and appeared to swipe at her cheeks.
Dash it, he hadn’t thought she’d cry. Shout and carry on, yes. But he hadn’t prepared himself for tears.
He hated when she cried. The last time he could recall was when she stepped on a jellyfish one summer. He’d carried her, nearly running, up the beach to the chateau where they could rinse her foot in vinegar.
He stroked his jaw as the carriage rolled down the drive, taking the duke to wherever dukes went when they lost their fiancée to another man. Harrison felt a touch guilty, but Lockwood would be fine. There were hundreds of wealthy women in America who would undoubtedly leap at the chance to become a duchess.
When the carriage disappeared, Maddie turned and her eyes locked defiantly with his, her chin thrust high. She had indeed been crying, and the sight tore at the inside of Harrison’s chest, stinging as if he’d been flayed open with a sharp instrument.
They stood there, not speaking, while the staff drifted away to other duties. She was normally easy to read, her feelings right on her face, but he had no idea what she was thinking at the moment. Was she distraught? Angry? Resentful?
“You’ve been crying,” he said, commenting on the obvious as he drifted closer.
“Yes, Harrison.” Sparks glittered in her green gaze, which was a relief. Anger he could handle. “That is what generally happens when I hurt those I care about.”
Like the duke. “Lockwood’s a sore loser, I suppose.”
“This is not a game.”
Lifting a hand, he brushed the backs of his knuckles along her jaw. “Wrong. This was most definitely a game and you were the greatest prize.”
She stepped back, her lips pressed flat. “You should have spoken up in my father’s office. You should have said you did not compromise me. Then we wouldn’t be forced to marry.”
“Why on earth would I have done such a thing?”
“To spare me, not to mention my parents, the humiliation. And Lockwood, for that matter. The list is endless, Harrison.”
“While I wouldn’t have chosen a scandal as the backdrop for our marriage, I cannot regret it, either. I told you I wanted you.”
Maddie closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose with two fingers. “That was a momentary fit of passion. We became overzealous in the gazebo. It was the rain and the darkness, a temporary insanity. Neither of us knew what we wanted.”
“Wrong. I told you earlier yesterday that I wanted everything from you. I meant marriage and children, laughter and tears, a lifetime of having you by my side.”
“And when did you arrive at this momentous decision? When you were in Paris, entertaining can-can dancers and sipping absinthe?”
“Long before, actually.” The truth slipped out, but he didn’t hide from the astonishment in her expression. He owed her honesty, at least about this.
“What do you mean, long before?”
He held up his hands. “I promise to explain everything tonight. Right now, I must stroll over to the Archer cottage and get the place prepared.”
“For what?”
His couldn’t help but grin. “Our wedding night.”
“No.” Her back straightened. “This is no traditional marriage with an ordinary wedding night. I am far too angry with you to even contemplate it.”
He lowered his voice seductively. “I promise you, there will be nothing ordinary about our wedding night.”
“Now you make jokes?” She threw her hands up and let them fall. “This has upended my life, Harrison. This is hardly a time for levity.”
He sobered. “I apologize. It was insensitive of me. But look at it this way: I saved you from a dull marriage to a dull man who would have undoubtedly given you dull children.”
“Oh, so I should be grateful to you. Is that it?”
He clamped his lips shut. They were going round and round, getting nowhere. She was still too angry and he was too dashed happy. This conversation was better had tonight, once they were married and alone. He could explain everything then, and she would have no choice but to listen.
But for now, he had to give her a choice. Maddie preferred logic and reason to make a decision. He couldn’t forget that all this had taken her by surprise.
Reaching out, he took her hand, relieved not to see the ducal betrothal ring any longer. Softening his tone, he said, “I know this is happening quickly, and you haven’t had much control over the last few hours, but please believe me when I say I want nothing more in this world than to marry you. Every minute of my life, every breath I take will be spent making you happy. Please, marry me, Mads.”
Tears pooled against her lids. “I have no choice. The scandal will be all over New York by dinnertime.”
“There is always a choice. You could move to Rome or Barcelona, live abroad for a year or two. The scandal will eventually blow over.”
“Not for my parents. And what of my plans to be the best lawn tennis player in America? I cannot leave.”
“Some girls travel West. Change their name. No one ever need know what happened here.”
Her brows drew together. “And never see my family or friends again? I don’t want to start a new life like some sort of confidence man on the run from the law.”
“Then I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”
“You’re stuck with me, as well.” She pulled free of his grip. “And I am still angry with you for pushing me when I asked for more time.”
“That’s fine.” She’d forgive him . . . eventually. Hopefully once she understood his feelings for her. “I suppose I’ll see you later at the ceremony, then.”
“I am serious about the wedding night, Harrison. Do not even think about it.”
Impossible. He could do almost nothing but think about it.
He thrust his hands in his pockets and started walking toward the street. “I suppose we’ll see, my soon-to-be wife.”
The ceremony took hardly any time at all.
In a furious daze, Maddie recited the words that would bind her to Harrison for the rest of her life. He did the same, his voice clear and strong in the near-empty salon, the hint of a smile on his face.
This was most definitely a game and you were the greatest prize.
She ground her back teeth together. He hadn’t bothered to woo her or confide in her. This had been a challenge to him, to steal her away from Lockwood, and in one weak moment, she’d succumbed. Not that she could entirely blame Harrison, either. There had been two of them in the gazebo, and she’d willingly allowed him to lead her down the path to ruin. Had asked for it, even.