chuckle reached her as he went to mount his horse. Bending over the saddle, he reached out a hand to her. Reluctantly, she took it.
"Use the stirrup," he instructed her, removing his own foot from it.
Expecting him to swing her on the back of his mount as he had often done in the past, she complied. He surprised her by swinging her up and pulling her across his lap in front. His arms securely encircled her.
"John!" She struggled in his protective embrace.
"Easy, sweet. I'm just taking you home."
Then why did his voice still have that hint of seduction in it? Were his teeth nibbling on her earlobe ? Chloe froze in his lap.
It was at that point she realized he was going to have to marry her right away. For it wouldn't be long before he either saw through her ruse to her inexperience or the rogue seduced her.
"Now which way was home?" His mouth teased at her ear. Hot breath skittered down the side of her neck, leaving tingles in its wake. "Guess I'll have to take my chances and hope I find the way… eventually."
Chloe steeled herself for a long, torturous ride.
By the time they arrived back at the house—the trip taking much longer than it should have—Chloe was convinced she was right.
How to accomplish the deed swiftly was the problem.
Once again, it was Maurice who came to her rescue.
Apparently the marquis decided to take himself on a viscount hunt. That very day, he announced to John that he had procured a special license for them; they could be wed immediately. In fact, he told them the countess was already making the arrangements.
Lord John had been bagged.
Chapter Four
The Absurdity Begins
The marriage was to take place just before noon today on the estate.
At least, that was according to Sir Percy, who had diligently informed John late last evening of the time, place, and date of his own wedding.
John had no doubt whatsoever that the information was accurate, considering its impeccable source.
He fumed silently as he gazed out his bedroom window to the grounds below. The thought that this would soon no longer be his bedroom briefly crossed his mind.
His would be the master suite, with all the responsibility such accommodations entailed.
His nostrils flared.
It was not that he objected to wedding Chloe. In truth, now that he had gotten used to the idea, it sat rather well with him. What perturbed him was the speed with which everyone was moving to make sure it became a reality.
Yesterday, when he had ridden up to the house with Chloe, Maurice had been waiting for them. His uncle had taken one look at the way he had been cuddling Chloe on his lap, and delivered an ultimatum in the form of a very pointed stare.
The silent message he sent was clear: Get your name on her before you cause a scandal .
Ordinarily, his uncle had a tendency to overlook infamy. In this case, however, he was drawing the line.
Right across John's… foot.
At the time, John had acknowledged the challenge with a quirk of his eyebrow. He made especially sure to lower Chloe to the steps extremely slowly.
That was when Maurice had informed his nephew of the special license. Saying nothing, John had simply turned his horse toward the stables. It was a calculated stance, neither assenting nor dissenting.
Despite being irked that his uncle sought to take matters into his own hands, John recognized the simple truth. Regardless of what anyone believed, he was going to marry Chloe. If it made his uncle feel better to conclude he was controlling the situation, then so what? The fact of the matter was that John never did anything unless it was his own desire .
Wedding Chloe had become a desire.
Desire led to certain other thoughts. His imagination began to work on the evening's possibilities…
On the drive below him, a coach and four suddenly careened around the bend on two wheels, narrowly missing a servant girl.
John swore under his breath. It was the fifth time today they had almost lost a member of the staff to the
"Use the stirrup," he instructed her, removing his own foot from it.
Expecting him to swing her on the back of his mount as he had often done in the past, she complied. He surprised her by swinging her up and pulling her across his lap in front. His arms securely encircled her.
"John!" She struggled in his protective embrace.
"Easy, sweet. I'm just taking you home."
Then why did his voice still have that hint of seduction in it? Were his teeth nibbling on her earlobe ? Chloe froze in his lap.
It was at that point she realized he was going to have to marry her right away. For it wouldn't be long before he either saw through her ruse to her inexperience or the rogue seduced her.
"Now which way was home?" His mouth teased at her ear. Hot breath skittered down the side of her neck, leaving tingles in its wake. "Guess I'll have to take my chances and hope I find the way… eventually."
Chloe steeled herself for a long, torturous ride.
By the time they arrived back at the house—the trip taking much longer than it should have—Chloe was convinced she was right.
How to accomplish the deed swiftly was the problem.
Once again, it was Maurice who came to her rescue.
Apparently the marquis decided to take himself on a viscount hunt. That very day, he announced to John that he had procured a special license for them; they could be wed immediately. In fact, he told them the countess was already making the arrangements.
Lord John had been bagged.
Chapter Four
The Absurdity Begins
The marriage was to take place just before noon today on the estate.
At least, that was according to Sir Percy, who had diligently informed John late last evening of the time, place, and date of his own wedding.
John had no doubt whatsoever that the information was accurate, considering its impeccable source.
He fumed silently as he gazed out his bedroom window to the grounds below. The thought that this would soon no longer be his bedroom briefly crossed his mind.
His would be the master suite, with all the responsibility such accommodations entailed.
His nostrils flared.
It was not that he objected to wedding Chloe. In truth, now that he had gotten used to the idea, it sat rather well with him. What perturbed him was the speed with which everyone was moving to make sure it became a reality.
Yesterday, when he had ridden up to the house with Chloe, Maurice had been waiting for them. His uncle had taken one look at the way he had been cuddling Chloe on his lap, and delivered an ultimatum in the form of a very pointed stare.
The silent message he sent was clear: Get your name on her before you cause a scandal .
Ordinarily, his uncle had a tendency to overlook infamy. In this case, however, he was drawing the line.
Right across John's… foot.
At the time, John had acknowledged the challenge with a quirk of his eyebrow. He made especially sure to lower Chloe to the steps extremely slowly.
That was when Maurice had informed his nephew of the special license. Saying nothing, John had simply turned his horse toward the stables. It was a calculated stance, neither assenting nor dissenting.
Despite being irked that his uncle sought to take matters into his own hands, John recognized the simple truth. Regardless of what anyone believed, he was going to marry Chloe. If it made his uncle feel better to conclude he was controlling the situation, then so what? The fact of the matter was that John never did anything unless it was his own desire .
Wedding Chloe had become a desire.
Desire led to certain other thoughts. His imagination began to work on the evening's possibilities…
On the drive below him, a coach and four suddenly careened around the bend on two wheels, narrowly missing a servant girl.
John swore under his breath. It was the fifth time today they had almost lost a member of the staff to the
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