When he spoke the words “physical intimacy,” a rushing sound roared in her ears. He licked his lips and Noelle wondered what it would feel to be kissed by him when he was sober. The man had devastated her when he’d been barely awake.
The door opened in that moment, saving Noelle from having to come up with a response.
Mr. Clark lowered the tray onto the table. “Thank you, Mr. Clark.” But Aunt Winifred didn’t seem all that interested in the tea. She hardly looked at the tray, instead focusing on their guest. “Fascinating, my lord. I think you make an excellent point.
“Shall I serve, Aunt?” Eve rose from her seat beside Lord Blitzencreek and lifted the delicate-looking pot without waiting for an answer. Noelle sent her a grateful glance. She had no wish to discuss physical intimacy in the presence of their aunt.
And although Noelle was purposely not looking at him, she knew he was still watching her—and she felt like she might as well be on fire. She clenched her thighs together and swallowed hard.
Tea. Thank heavens for tea!
“Cream and one lump of sugar, for me, Eve.” Noelle kept her voice even as her sister carefully served everyone. Why wasn’t he giving his attention to Eve? She was everything any man should ever want, with soft and shiny auburn hair like their mother’s had been, and her slim graceful arms and legs. Noelle had often thought Eve reminded her of a ballerina. She’d make for an excellent baroness.
Except…
The thought of those kissable lips of his on her sister gave rise to a sick feeling in Noelle’s gut. She took a shaky sip of her tea and dismissed it, forcing herself to focus on the knowledge that her sister could move on with her life, at last. She could become the mother she’d always wanted to be, and a wife. She’d have her own family and household. And perhaps then the rest of them could begin to heal and move on with life as well.
Noelle’s heart skipped a beat.
She wanted Lord Blitzencreek to marry Eve. She did!
“Noelle, if you don’t want your gingerbread, I’ll have it.” Holly said from across the room.
Noelle looked down at her tea. She’d been so lost in thought that it was nearly cold. “Sorry, Holly, but I do want it.” She didn’t want to give up her gingerbread. It would be too great of a loss. This piece of gingerbread was meant for her.
In fact, she felt like weeping at the thought, which was, of course, ridiculous.
She reached forward and served herself the aromatic confection unapologetically.
“If you’ll be so kind as to excuse me.” Eve rose again and was edging toward the door. “It’s been quite the day and I have some letters to write.” Eve turned, her face set in worried lines. What was wrong with her sister?
But she could barely give it a thought as Holly pounced on the opportunity to make herself absent as well. “I too, must excuse myself. I have several, er, dresses to mend.”
Which left Noelle, Aunt Winifred, and Lord Blitzencreek alone in the parlor. Noelle sneaked a glance at him, and he was still watching her. He’d hardly noticed Eve at all.
“I apologize for my nieces’ ill manners.”
“We haven’t yet accustomed themselves to our new home.” Noelle defended them, despite the fact their behavior was odd.
Aunt Winifred frowned. “Be that as it may.”
And then Noelle sniffed. And Lord Blitzencreek sniffed.
“Is that smoke? Is something burning?”
Which sent Aunt Winifred flying off her chair. “My gingerbread! Cook is burning my cookies and I promised the ladies guild that I would bring enough for everyone. And my poor friend, Mr. Kringle. Dearest Noelle, will you be so kind as to see his lordship out? Mr. Kringle will be so very disappointed!” Her hand clutched at her chest as she scurried toward the door, made a vague wave, and disappeared, slamming it closed behind her.
The silence in the room weighed so very heavy that Noelle was certain she could cut it in half with a knife.
“About that boon...” Lord Blitzencreek rose from his seat but halted Noelle when she went to rise as well. “You are quite right. I could never forgive myself for breaking my word. I promised a boon and a boon you shall have. A gentleman has nothing, after all, if he has not his honor.”
He crossed the room and stood towering above her.
And then he dropped onto one knee.
“You saved my life. What you ask for in return is nothing in comparison.” His gaze dropped as he took her hand in his, but then he looked up into her eyes again. “I curse far too often, I love to gamble, and although I usually come out ahead, I do risk more than I ought. I’m arrogant as hell, and lord knows I’m not immune to drink. I’ve also done my fair share of carousing. But if it’s what you want, I will give this a go. Lady Noelle…” His brows furrowed. “What is your middle name?”
“Joy.” Noelle answered automatically. What was he doing? She could hardly think, what with him on one knee before her. Energy sparked where he held her hand and his leathery, masculine scent tantalized her senses.
She watched his lips as he inhaled and then exhaled loudly, as though summoning courage.
“My lady…Noelle Joy Bailey, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Chapter Four
The words had come from his mouth and he was in the position, down on one knee, but he had the feeling he was standing off to the side watching another man—a very foolish man—voice the damnable question.
Not that it mattered. In a moment she’d say yes and he’d enter into this temporary state. Temporary because while he’d be married, he only intended to be an active husband as long as it took to produce a male heir. To expect anything more was an open invitation to disappointment.
Following giving birth to their son, Noelle could direct her attentions to finding husbands for her sisters, baking gingerbread, rescuing other drunken men…
He stopped, a wave of unexpected jealousy washing over him. The image of her leaning over another man, her body on his, made him clench with dissatisfaction.
“I’m sorry?” she asked, her voice trembling.
He forgot all about his thoughts as he focused on the woman in front of him, his body tensing in annoyance and a bit of trepidation. What the bloody hell? He’d given her exactly what she’d asked for. Why was she questioning him now? “Will you marry me?”
She stared at him as though he’d suddenly sprouted a second head, her mouth parted, her jaw slack and her eyes wide. “Will I marry you?”
As the hard wood was becoming somewhat uncomfortable against his knee, Dash rose and looked down at her. She appeared so small still sitting in that chair, her head tilting back, confusion in her eyes. He reached down a hand to pull her from her seat too. “I thought you understood.”
She made to place her hand in his, pulled it back and then finally set her gloved fingers in his palm, rising from the chair. “I suppose I am at fault for not stating my request more clearly.”
Well, that was bloody obvious. “Did you or did you not request a boon for saving my life?”
She swallowed, giving a tiny nod. “I did.”
A certain amount of satisfaction and relief made his breath hiss from his lungs. Now they were getting somewhere. “And was that boon an offer of marriage?”