“To Gretna Green.” He paused, his heart hammering. “Will you come with me?”
There came a long silence. Even the singers' voices had stopped.
Charles stood there, counting the seconds, and felt himself draining of colour.
“Are you sure?” Louisa finally asked.
He cleared his throat again and answered, “Quite, quite sure.”
“But Charles, your reputation–”
“Hang my reputation! I love you!”
“I'll be down in a trice!”
Charles called up, fighting a smile so big that it hampered his speech, “You might bring some clothes with you this time.”
“Get ready to catch them.”
He waited impatiently. Then, as he watched, a gown and a petticoat appeared overhead. They floated down to him, and he caught them before they touched the ground.
“Louisa! Don't you have some sort of box?”
A portmanteau hit the dirt at his feet. Charles scooped it up and stuffed the garments in it, along with the toothbrush, hairbrush, hats and gloves that followed.
“That's enough! That's enough!”
He was quite impatient now. The men who had been singing were watching him with interest. They had gathered round, and now he shooed them off.
“Are you ready?” Louisa’s voice called down from above.
“Yes, but please be careful!”
A slippered foot eased over the window-sill, followed by another. Charles caught a gratifying glimpse of bare leg, and more. His heart gave a lurch. He did not think of turning away, but what he saw made him quite glad he had chased the other men off.
He waited for her at the bottom of the drainpipe and insisted on catching her, as well. The little gasp she made on landing in his arms sent a quiver through him.
For a second, Charles kept her tightly nestled in his arms, relishing the feel of her. Then, ignoring the men's stares, he kissed her.
Louisa burrowed closer to him, sending his pulse on a tear, until he realized she was shivering from the cold. He bustled her round the corner and into his carriage.
“To Gretna Green, Timothy!”
“Aye, your lordship! On the quick?”
“No, there's no need to hurry. We'll break our journey on the way.”
“Yessir!”
Once inside, Louisa huddled very close to him, until he put his arms around her and pulled her onto his lap.
“Ooh!”
“Do you object?”'
“No ... not at all.” Her breathless response sent a thrill coursing through him. “I’ll keep you warm,” he promised.
“Yes ... I believe you will. Charles ... are you absolutely certain you wish to marry me?”
He whispered in her ear, “Do you need convincing?”
She giggled. “Not really, but are you sure it's wise? What of your reputation when it's known you've eloped?”
“I've eloped with a beautiful heiress. It will probably be considered the wisest thing I've ever done.”
He could feel her smile as her lips moved against his cheek, sending wave after wave of heat to his loins.
“There is one thing, though...”
“What's that?”
He held her away for a moment. “Do you promise, when we get there, that you won't change your mind?”
Louisa threw herself back into his arms and hugged him tightly. “Only if you promise to make love to me the whole way!”
Charles enfolded her snugly and felt his heart fill, close to bursting.
“I give you my word as a gentleman....”
Copyright © 1993 by Patricia Wynn Ricks
Originally published by Harlequin
Electronically published in 2002 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No portion of this book may be reprinted in whole or in part, by printing, faxing, E-mail, copying electronically or by any other means without permission of the publisher. For more information, contact Belgrave House, 190 Belgrave Avenue, San Francisco, CA 94117-4228
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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.