Her lips molded to his, and she clung to his shoulders with sweet urgency. “Ronan,” she whispered, her eyes still closed as she absorbed the lingering sensation of his touch after he ended the kiss, “we had better go downstairs, or Joshua and Holly will leave without us.”
“Right.” He sighed and allowed her to slip out of his arms. “You really do look beautiful.”
She was wearing a dark blue gown, once again, nothing fancy. Just elegant and subtly catching to the eye. He watched as she put on her hat, a pretty thing in a dark blue fabric to match her gown and a small feather sticking out of the top. She set it on her head so that it jauntily tipped to one side and somehow made her eyes look bigger.
Gorgeous eyes.
Her hair was done up in a loose twist so that he could see the highlights of gold and copper peeking out from beneath her hat.
She looked breathtaking.
He felt a surge of pride that he would be the one escorting her into the halls of Parliament.
“About time you got down here,” Joshua muttered but made certain to help him into the carriage.
Ronan fell heavily against the squabs, irritated that the slight effort of climbing in had sent pain shooting up his sides and across his chest. Dahlia settled beside him, her eyes filled with concern. “I’ll be fine in a moment,” he assured her.
She curled her arm in his and clung to him as the carriage rolled through the busy London streets. They did not have far to go, but even this short ride badly jostled his ribs. Dahlia knew it. Joshua and Holly knew it. But his expression must have been fierce, for none of them dared to utter a word about his discomfort.
It would have been pointless.
He would have denied it.
He was going to be present for the vote even if it killed him...as it well might, he decided when the carriage bounced over a particularly large rut. “Bollocks, how much did you pay for this cheap contraption?”
Joshua shot him a look that was somewhere between a smirk and a glower. “You’re the problem, not the carriage. Behave yourself, you arse, or I’ll toss you out and leave you to walk to Parliament on your own.”
He closed his eyes. “Fine. I’ll shut up. I suppose I owe you for saving my life.” He felt Dahlia shudder beside him. “Sweetheart, I’m just being surly. All’s well.”
Which it wasn’t, and they all knew it.
But he only needed to hold himself together for another hour at the most. His three earl cousins, Tynan, James, and Marcus, were standing out front, obviously awaiting their carriage. He should have known they would be here, for this was typical wildebeest behavior, the stronger ones coming to the rescue of their weakest, gathering around him to protect him.
“I’ll punch the first one of you who dares carry me inside,” he warned, appreciating their concern, but not wanting them to overdo it.
“Fine,” Marcus said, “but we’re sticking close. Miranda will kick us to Bedfordshire and back if any harm comes to her baby boy.”
He groaned. “Is she here yet?”
“No, thank goodness,” Tynan muttered.
Ronan turned to James, Earl of Exmoor, and the eldest of the eight wildebeests. “How are you feeling today?” He glanced at his cousin’s mangled leg, suddenly feeling ashamed for behaving like a petulant and infantile tyrant. James had been wounded badly in the war, his face and body scarred, and his leg so badly injured, were it not for George Farthingale’s miraculous treatment, the leg would have been amputated.
James nodded. “I’m fine. Sophie came along with me today. She knew Holly and Dahlia would be here and wanted to join them. She’s already seated in the spectator gallery, holding their two seats.”
Dahlia smiled. “Excellent, shall we join her now?”
“No,” James said. “Not you, Dahlia. You see, Ronan is England’s hero at the moment. He needs to play it up to the hilt. This means making his entrance with you by his side. The newspapers and their readership will devour it. A wounded hero in love with his beautiful, new bride.”
He turned to Ronan. “Here, take my cane. Use it to walk in. You can give it back to me later.”
Ronan did not immediately reach for it.
James frowned at him. “Don’t be a prideful arse. Do you want your budget to pass?”
“But what about you? Don’t you need it?” The last thing he wanted was for James to fall. Nothing was worth seeing him helpless on the floor and humiliated.
“Marcus and Tynan will stay close to me. Dahlia, do you think you can pretend to love my stubborn cousin? Cast him an adoring glance or two?”
She laughed. “I shall try. How’s this?”
“Irresistible.” Ronan groaned. “I’m going to carry you off to a dark corner and have my way with you.”
James clapped him on the shoulder. “Cavort naked in the Thames, if you like. I hear you enjoy taking plunges into icy waters. But not before the vote. Come on. Let’s go in.”
The wildebeests peeled back to allow Ronan the undivided attention. To his surprise, the Duke of Stoke immediately approached them. He bowed gallantly over Dahlia’s hand, obviously pleased to see her. “I have my daughter back, and I owe it all to you.”
When the duke left their side, Dahlia turned to him in a fret. “Oh, Ronan. I hope this is true. But I’m so worried disaster is about to strike.”
“Let’s hope not. Perhaps Lady Melinda will fall in love with someone new. And it sounds like this Dawson character has a good head on his shoulders. He’s likely to put her off so that she’ll give up and seek a real marquess this time, instead of the fake marquess she’s been going on about.”
Dahlia nodded pensively. “I wonder if he is fake, after all. What if her marquess actually does exist?”
“Fret about it later. Cheer up, Queen Pea. Everyone will believe you’re tired of me already.”
She shook her head and laughed. “That will never happen. I love you, Ronan.”
“Love you, too.”
The Duke of Edgeware came up to them, similarly bowing over Dahlia’s hand and casting her a grin. “Dillie says I am not allowed home if your husband’s budget does not pass. I’m rather fond of my wife. Rather enjoy sharing our cozy home with her. So don’t fail me, Brayden. That budget had better pass.”
Dahlia smiled, knowing Edgeware’s cozy home was one of the finest houses in London. But she had no doubt it was filled with happiness and warmth because he and Dillie truly loved each other. “Give my cousin a hug for me. Your Grace, I sincerely hope all will be successful, and you shall return victorious to her open arms.”
This is how they made their way onto the floor of the House of Lords, constantly stopped by well-wishers and taking a moment to respond with good cheer. The Lord Admiral greeted them but quickly stepped aside to allow others to approach them. Ronan received congratulations from many of the lords, not only for his rescue of The Invictus but also for his marriage to his obviously beautiful and adoring bride.
They only had a moment before the Earl of Wycke stepped forward to escort Dahlia to the spectator gallery. But that brief moment, and the love shining in her eyes as she bid him farewell, was enough to have every newspaper sketch artist suddenly pulling out their pads and furiously drawing Dahlia, intent on capturing her perfect expression of love.