Page 50 of Venus in Disguise

When he had entered the bedroom to discover her dressed all in blue, with the fluttering white swansdown like a delicate halo about her face, his heart had done the most peculiar lurch in his chest. Desire had hit him hard and fast, making him want to undo all of Mrs Fenchurch’s hard work and take her straight back to bed. Last night she had been so sweet, so giving and trusting, and the idea she might love him if he gave her the chance to do so was one he wanted to believe in. Yet, he still found it hard not to think that a girl so used to privilege, to being viewed as one of the most eligible women of the ton, would find her sudden relegation to the lower ranks hard to stomach. How would she tolerate the oh–so-subtle snubs and barbs? How would she feel to discover she was no longer welcomed by some of the high sticklers? Surely that would hurt her, and perhaps she would blame him for it.

Ash was so lost in his own thoughts that the sudden hammering on his front door took a moment to penetrate his brain. Narcissa, though, gasped and clung to his arm, her face blanched white.

“My father,” she whispered, trembling visibly.

Ash hesitated. What he wished to do was to open the door and give Beresford a piece of his mind, but he could not risk having Narcissa taken from him by force. He would have to wait until she was safely married to him.

“Come,” he said, grasping her hand.

“Don’t answer that,” he told his butler. “Delay them for as long as you can. Tell Beresford we were married yesterday and have gone to stay with friends in the country.”

“Very good, Mr Anson,” his butler said, not betraying by word or expression his opinion of such goings on in a respectable household, though Ash did not doubt he’d discuss it to the full with Mrs Fenchurch later.

Ash strode to the back stairs and hurried down them, towing Narcissa with him. “We’ll go out the back way,” he told her. “The church is on the corner of Regent’s Park Road. It’s a short walk, and the vicar is waiting for us.”

Narcissa nodded resolutely, rushing after him.

Much to Ash’s relief, no one was waiting to accost them as they escaped out the back of the house. Though the faint sound of angry voices could be heard as they sped away, they made good their escape, all but running along Albany Road.

By the time they got to the church, Narcissa was gasping, and he shot her an apologetic glance as he ushered her inside.

“I’m sorry, love. I doubt this is the kind of wedding you’d hoped for,” he said grimly as they made their way up the aisle.

“It’s far better than any marriage I’d expected,” she retorted gamely, making him smile even as guilt twisted in his heart.

She deserved better than this shoddy hole-in-the-wall affair, but there was nothing to be done about it. Having paid the vicar well to provide the necessary witnesses and have the paperwork all in order, the ceremony was performed at a cracking pace, with nothing resembling romance, and Ash felt increasingly like a heartless bastard. He thought perhaps they both stopped breathing when the vicar asked if anyone had any objections to the marriage but, miraculously, the duke’s furious presence had not erupted upon them. Narcissa’s voice trembled as she’d recited her vows, her eyes too bright. By the time Ash gave his responses, he was so het up, his voice was hard and impatient, and he was only amazed she didn’t walk out on him there and then.

She didn’t, though, and even smiled at him as the vicar pronounced them man and wife and told him he might kiss his bride.

Ash felt the words fall upon his shoulders like a weight, one he doubted he’d ever live up to, but he was caught now. There was no backing out, so he’d best try to salvage the day before Narcissa despised him for bringing her to such a pass.

Startled to find his hand was not entirely steady, he cupped her cheek and lowered his mouth to hers. She raised her face, her gloved fingers clutching at his lapels and suddenly everything went away. Her father, their ignominious escape from his house, the shamefully hasty marriage, none of it mattered. When she pressed her soft mouth to his, all he knew was the scent of her that swam in his head, jasmine and vanilla clouding his mind, invading his senses as the knowledge she was really his settled in his heart. His hand went to her waist, pulling her closer as desire thrummed beneath his skin. Mine, said a new and possessive voice in his head, satisfaction rippling through him as the truth of that settled deep inside. He had never known a woman who was his own in every way that mattered. Usually they were someone else’s wife, or perhaps widow. Never had a woman been entirely his, not only legally but truly.

“Ahem.”

The vicar’s disapproving voice reminded Ash they were not yet in private, and he reluctantly let Narcissa go, relieved to see she was looking far happier now than she had done, a soft flush of pink colouring her cheeks. Once they had signed the register and Ash had handed out the necessary coins to thank the witnesses for their trouble, he led her back down the aisle.

Though it seemed ridiculous, he didn’t know quite what to say to her. All his legendary charm and sophistication had gone up in smoke as he found himself quite out of his depth.

“What now?” Narcissa asked quietly, for they could obviously not go back to his home.

Though he had written them a hasty note to explain what he meant to do, he was certainly not ready to face his parents yet, and it was likely the duke would go there next, something Ash did not wish to think about.

“We shall visit a friend of mine,” he said, not having any better plan.

He hailed a hackney cab and lost no time in helping Narcissa inside and giving the driver the address on Berwick Street. He sat down beside his bride and reached for her hand, relieved when she still smiled at him, though there was concern in her eyes.

“But what shall we do, Ash?”

“I told you, we shall visit my friend. He’ll let us make use of his place,” he said, wishing that had not sounded quite so tawdry.

Narcissa blushed scarlet as his meaning sunk in.

“He won’t be there,” Ash added defensively. “He’ll stay at the club until… well, until it’s safe for us to show our faces. There’s no point in being coy about it, love. We need to consummate the marriage to ensure you’re safe. It’s the only way, and he won’t know to look for us here.”

“Of course,” Narcissa said, her voice faint but composed. “I understand.”

Ash gritted his teeth, part of him wishing she wouldn’t be so damned agreeable. He was acting like an utter bastard, and she was letting him get away with it. If only the situation had been different and they’d not needed to act so furtively, as if it were something shameful. If only they had celebrated their union as they ought to have done… but he had mismanaged this entire affair from the start, and it wasn’t getting any better. He only hoped it wasn’t a taste of things to come.