Page 50 of The Rogue’s Countess

Gently cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her lightly. To his surprise, her lips clung to his as he started to pull away. Unwilling to let her go just yet, he deepened the kiss. She tasted sweet with just a hint of the tart apple pastry Cook had made for breakfast. His mind began to shut down as she released a soft sigh against his lips. The memory of last night’s disastrous outcome filled his consciousness, and he immediately knew he was too close to the edge of the cliff.

Gideon quickly broke the kiss and lifted his head to stare down at her. The gold flecks in her brown eyes shone brightly as he saw desire flash in her gaze. The image of a small bench in the rear of the garden crashed through his thoughts, and Gideon stifled a groan. Determined to avoid a repeat of last night, he cleared his throat.

“At least Currer will no longer be able to address me as Lord Chelmbee.”

Phoebe stiffened at his mention of the satirist, and an odd look crossed her face. Gideon frowned in puzzlement. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought her expression had been one of horror and fear. The emotion disappeared so quickly he put it down to his imagination. Pink tinged her cheeks as she looked away.

“You blush like a schoolgirl.”

His fingertips brushed over a high cheekbone, and her cheek warmed the pads of his fingers as the color in her cheeks darken. Gideon dragged in a harsh breath. Just looking at her like this made him want to drag her upstairs to his bedroom, where he could quench his thirst for her. God help him, the things he wanted to do to her, the things he wanted her to feel as he pleasured her with his mouth and body.

Gideon swallowed hard as his cock stirred in his trousers at the thought. How was it possible she could drive every thought out of his head so easily until she was holding his mind and body hostage? Gideon reluctantly stepped back from her as he shut out the erotic images threatening his self-control. Phoebe’s gaze met his before a hesitant look of resignation cast a shadow over her face.

“Gideon…there’s something I need…something you should know about me before we are married.” The quiet words made him frown as he saw guilt sweep across her face before she looked away. “If I truly am with child, it is quite possible, almost a certainty, that I will lose the child.”

“Why would you think such a thing?” he exclaimed softly in puzzlement.

“I have been with child twice before and miscarried both times. It’s unlikely I shall give you a son and heir. I wanted you to know the truth and allow you to withdraw your offer of marriage.”

“I did not propose a union between us because I wanted a son, Phoebe.”

“No, I think guilt was your motivation.” Startled by her belief that he’d proposed out of remorse, Gideon shook his head in disagreement and eyed her sternly.

“Guilt had nothing to do with my decision, Phoebe. If you are carrying my child, which is quite possible, I do not wish the child to be born out of wedlock.”

In the back of his mind, Gideon heard a voice suggest he had another reason for marrying her. Before it grew louder, he slammed it back into the box it had emerged from. Phoebe studied him for a moment as if to assure herself that he was being honest with her, then nodded. Satisfied that she was clear on his intentions, Gideon smiled.

“I’ll visit my solicitor after lunch with instructions as to the nuptial agreement. I’ll also visit the Vicar-General’s office and secure a license so we can be wed the day after tomorrow.” Gideon paused for a moment clearing his throat in preparation for his question. “Would you like for me to make arrangements for a wedding trip? Paris perhaps? It’s a beautiful city, and I think you would find it enjoyable.”

Phoebe grew still as she met his gaze and bit down on her lower lip as a look of indecision darkened her face. Gideon’s jaw tightened at her hesitation. Why would she possibly want to go on a nuptial tour with him, given the circumstances under which they were marrying? He was about to dismiss the idea when she drew in a shallow breath.

“Would it be possible to travel to Rome instead?” Her question startled him as he’d been prepared for her to reject his suggestion. Pleased that she was willing to agree to a wedding trip, he smiled.

“Certainly, if that’s what you wish.”

“I doubt I would enjoy Paris.” When she didn’t elaborate, he arched his eyebrows in a silent demand for her to expand on her statement. Phoebe stiffened slightly before she looked away from him. “Alfred took me to Paris after our wedding. I did not…it wasn’t a pleasant experience.”

The anger that surged through his veins at lightning speed made him wish Helstone was still alive so he could beat the man senseless. Helstone had been an even worse bastard than he’d originally thought. Eager to reassure her that being married to him would be different, Gideon caught Phoebe’s hand in his and carried it to his lips.

“I promise you, Phoebe, neither our wedding trip nor our marriage will ever bear any resemblance to what you endured with Helstone.” The manner in which he stressed his words seemed to ease her tension. “If Rome is where you wish to go, then that’s where we shall go.”

“Thank you, Gideon. I would like that,” she murmured as he heard a note of relief whisper through her voice. Pleased that he’d alleviated some of her fears with his promise, he released her hand and took a small step back from her.

“We will need witnesses at the wedding ceremony. Is there someone you wish to ask?”

Phoebe frowned for a moment as she considered his question. Her expression lightened as she nodded.

“I would like to ask Lady Lyndham to stand with me.”

“Constance?” He stared at her in surprise, and her cheeks became bright pink.

“Yes, unless you think it inappropriate.” She winced slightly with embarrassment. “I have no one else to ask.”

“Not at all, I had simply assumed there would be someone of long acquaintance you might want to have stand with you. However, I’m certain Constance would be delighted to act as a witness. I intend to ask Sebastian to stand with me.”

“And could we be married here, in Chelmsford House?” Despite her quiet question, there was a strength in her voice that eased some of his concerns about her vulnerability. “I know your mother would like to be present, and it will be easier for her that way.”

“Are you certain you would not prefer to be married in a church?”