Wolf heldPortia on his lap as the carriage rocked over familiar, rutted roads, taking them from the East End back to where she truly belonged.
To Mayfair.
To her town house and her butler and her gilt-edged world.
Unlike the other occasions when they had parted, however, he had hope. And determination. Because she loved him. He loved her. And he was going to make her his wife. He would not stop until he did.
“Damn it,” he said on a heavy sigh, tightening his arms around her, for he knew they were nearing Blakewell House and she would have to depart. “I never want to let you go.”
She nuzzled his throat, those silken lips of hers teasing skin he had not even realized was sensitive before. “Did you mean what you said back at The Sinner’s Palace?”
“That I love you?” He kissed her crown, thankful she had removed her hat and veil for the carriage ride, so that he was not deprived the luxury of her smooth, chestnut hair beneath his lips. “Of course I meant it. How could you doubt?”
“Not that.” Her fingers swept into the hair at his nape, sending a pleasant thrill down his spine. “I know you love me, Wolf. I feel it when we are together, and even when we are not. You have shown me in everything you do.”
He kissed her again, smiling against her part. “Christ. At least I’m not an utter failure, then.”
She chuckled softly, and this sound, too, was pleasing to his senses. She did not laugh nearly enough. Bloody hell, had he ever heard her levity? He did not think so.
“You could never be a failure. What I meant was…when you said you wanted to marry me. Do you, truly?” she asked, her voice hesitant.
“I have never wanted anything more,” he admitted, his voice hoarse with suppressed emotion. “As long as you will have me, that is. If you do not wish it, I understand. I’m not a lord. I’m not elegant or polished, and I don’t know a goddamned thing about proper manners. Hell, I can’t even make a proposal without cursing…”
She pressed a finger to his lips, staying further speech. “Hush. It would be my honor to be your wife. I did not have a choice the first time I married. This next time—the last time—I want my husband to be the man who loves me. The man who truly loves me.”
Aye, that was him. He had teased his brothers mercilessly about falling in love with their women. And now, look at him. Utterly besotted, his countess on his lap where he wanted to forever keep her.
Actually, he would prefer to keep her forever in his bed, but that was another matter, and if he thought upon it for too long, he was likely to get a raging cockstand…
Too late.
She shifted on his lap, the friction of her shapely bottom against his rapidly stiffening prick enough to make him groan.
Portia tilted her head back, studying him through the low light reflecting from the carriage lamps. She was cloaked in shadows, but despite the darkness, she was the loveliest sight he had ever beheld.
“It would be my honor to be your husband,” he said. “And I also meant it when I told you we will come to an understanding with your devil of a brother. Do you suppose your lad will accept a rough, rookeries-born beast married to his beautiful mama?”
He had only met the boy on one occasion. His impression of the young lord was that he was intelligent and kind like his mother, and headstrong too. Wolf adored his twin nieces. He thought Elizabeth and Anne would get on well with the lad, as they were nearly of an age. And Wolf would be more than pleased to be a father figure to the boy.
“Edwin will love you as I do,” Portia reassured him. “I have no doubt of that.”
Still, Wolf was going to have to spend some time with the lad. He owed it to Portia and her son to do this right. Not to make a muck of things. They deserved happiness and security.
Which reminded him.
“I am coming to you tomorrow,” he told her. “Be prepared. I intend to interview your domestics. We will discover which of them is running back to your brother with a wagging tongue. You ought to be able to trust those beneath your own damned roof. They are in your employ, not his.”
“I was too fearful to attempt it myself,” she said quietly.
And that killed him.
Her brother was a bloody monster.
A monster Wolf was going to stop.
“You needn’t fear any longer, my love.” He kissed her crown once more as the carriage rocked to a halt in the mews behind her town house.
And he knew just the man to help him accomplish it.
* * *