“So you say.” Still he looked as if he conceded nothing.
Calista grabbed his arms, feeling the tensile strength under the dark blue riding jacket. Right now, he seemed like a stranger. “Miles, what is it?”
He shook his head and his gaze slid away from hers. Disquiet filled her. She hadn’t been sure if he was joking when he’d started this game. Now she knew something was wrong. Something more than male frustration that she didn’t succumb without demur to his lures.
“Miles?”
He stared directly at her, his hazel eyes dark and somber as she’d never seen them. “It’s just—”
He paused, searching for words, he who never lacked a ready quip or a witty riposte. Her disquiet transformed into a coiling mass of adders hissing and squirming in her belly. She’d known this day would come. She’d known that he’d recover from whatever whim had made him want her. She braced for him to reject her, to send her back to the lonely prison her life had been until he’d miraculously fallen in love with her.
Miles spoke in a rush. “I feel you’re holding yourself back from me.”
He hadn’t said what she expected. She could only stare at him with a frown. “I don’t understand.”
But she did, oh, dear Lord, she did.
She’d never trusted this happiness. Self-preservation insisted she reserved a fraction of her soul from him. So that when the inevitable happened and he decided he didn’t love her after all, she’d survive. What astonished her was that Miles had sensed the barriers she raised between them. She’d tried so hard to keep her doubts hidden and pl
ay the carefree bride.
He kissed her again, but the entrancing sweetness had leached away. Sorrow squeezed her heart even as she kissed him back. This was how it would be in years to come, she knew. Little by little, he’d realize what a poor bargain he made in marrying the Earl of Stansfield’s awkward daughter. With every day, the glow that lit his eyes when he looked at her would dwindle until nothing remained.
They were so different. Why didn’t he see that? He was famous for his graceful manners, admired wherever he went. She was ill at ease in company and likely to say the wrong thing. He was sophisticated and no stranger to sensual pleasure. She’d spent most of her life with her nose buried in a book. He was breathtakingly handsome. The best anyone had ever said about her was that her looks were unusual. She was well aware that “unusual” was a word that carried a thousand spiteful synonyms in its wake.
If she was brave, she’d end the engagement now and face down the scandal. She should make a clean break before Miles hurt her as he would undoubtedly hurt her. But she was too weak. She wanted all she could get of him. She wanted to hold on to the sweet knowledge that at least for a short while, he’d loved her. Even if only a little.
Her mouth clung to his with a passion that made him regard her with a puzzled frown when he finally raised his head.
“Calista?”
Her eagerness would surprise him. To protect herself, she’d fought to pretend coolness in response to his passion. But fear made her desperate to snatch what pleasure she could while he still thought he wanted her. Fighting the tears that would betray her misery, she stared up past Miles toward the tester above her head.
“It’s just wedding jitters.” The excuse was losing its efficacy. She’d repeated it so often to explain fears that stabbed much more deeply than a bride’s natural nervousness.
Once or twice, she’d come close to confiding her doubts to Miles. Every time, she’d stopped herself from speaking. If he took her seriously, he’d think she was appallingly poor spirited. Most of the time, she thought she was appallingly poor spirited. If he didn’t take her seriously, he’d try and cajole her fears away as childish fancies. She couldn’t bear that.
Unlike the counterpane, the tester was decorated not only with flowers and fanciful Chinese buildings, but also with faces. A wizened mandarin glowered down at her. His devilish black eyebrows tilted over eyes strangely stitched in vermillion. In her imagination, the face’s smile turned demonic, as if mocking her futile yen for Miles to love her as she loved him.
“The best way to defeat your fears is to face them,” Miles said steadily.
Calista’s eyes widened as she ripped her attention from the exotic embroidery. “You really want us to anticipate our vows?”
He shrugged and pressed his hips into her belly. Innocent and clumsy, she might be. Brainless she wasn’t. Right now Miles wanted her, whatever the future held. His hard heat made her tremble with desire.
“I don’t want you to be afraid anymore,” he said.
Then love me forever.
She stifled the plea. He’d think she was pathetic if she said such things. She needed to keep some pride to save her when he realized that marrying her was a mistake. “I’m not sure a scandal is a better choice.”
“We wouldn’t be the first couple overcome by lust before we meet the parson.”
“We can’t.” With a trembling hand, she reached up to brush the fall of soft dark hair back from Miles’s forehead. “You know we can’t. Someone would catch us and Papa would have an apoplexy.”
Calista already suspected that the world laughed behind its hands at her. She’d laugh herself at the idea of such a plain woman thinking that she was a suitable match for society’s darling, Viscount Kendall. She’d laugh if she hadn’t been so near to crying.
She stared up at his remarkable face and told herself that she wouldn’t cry. She’d marry Miles tomorrow and take what came. She’d need every ounce of bravery, but abandoning the game before it started was too lily-livered to contemplate.