To Catch a Rake (The Marquess and His Muse: Companion)

CHAPTER 10

WHEN SHE THOUGHT OF elopements, she always imagined the night, secretly scurrying through darkened corridors, or maybe escaping through a window. Secrecy, subterfuge, and danger were always part of the picture.

It turned out that an elopement was easier than people made it out to be. Or maybe it was Drew who made it appear easy. Not in the dark of night, but in the quietude of the early morning. Not escaping out windows or darkened corridors, but simply slipping out the back door with her valise in hand, and meeting him at the mews.

He was waiting for her in a closed carriage and jumped out to help her board as soon as she exited her garden gate. After a vehement kiss full of dreams and promises, they settled back in the comfortable seats.

“How far are we traveling?” she inquired.

“By coach, not far at all. Just to King’s Cross. We are departing for York on the direct train at seven in the morning. I have sent a telegram to my friend, and he’s expecting us. He’s agreed to marry us this afternoon. After that, we can spend the night at the rectory and return to London, already a married couple, tomorrow. Or we could stay in the north for a few days, or travel on to our honeymoon. Whatever you prefer, my love.”

She smiled at the prospect of returning as a married couple. Also, at his use of terms of endearment. “I think I would like to return tomorrow. To let our families know that the marriage has taken place. Then we can make plans for our honeymoon.”

“Hmm...I look forward to the consummation part.” He had the heavy lidded, sensual look that made her weak in the knees.

“So am I,” she whispered, and his eyes zeroed on her lips.

With a swift motion, he lifted her off her seat and settled her on his lap. After he had consumed her mouth with a ravenous kiss, he lifted his lips a fraction. “That’s one thing I love about you; how you melt at my touch, how you burn for me with the same fierceness I burn for you.”

“You don’t think I’m wanton and too forward?” she asked coyly, although she already knew the answer.

“You absolutely are. You are my wanton. And I love you for it.”

Their kiss threatened to get out of control, but at that moment, they arrived at King’s Cross station and had to descend. The hectic energy of the bustling station swelled around them, but Andrew navigated it easily, escorting her protectively with her hand on his arm. Within a half hour, they had settled into their first-class compartment and the train pulled out of the station, speeding towards their future.

The train ride was uneventful, but proved an exercise in self control. They were alone and private in their compartment, which naturally lent itself to kisses and touches. But Drew had resolved not to debauch her on a train, at least not for her first time, as he put it. After that, he said he planned to have her in every means of transportation available to mankind.

The mere thought of it had her clenching her thighs in anticipation.

They arrived at York well past noon and took a coach to the village where Andrew’s friend was a rector.

The Rectory was a handsome house in the very center of what looked like a charming and prosperous town. The maid who opened the door ushered them inside at once, and brought them to the reverend’s study. A man wearing a clerical collar was sitting at the desk.

“Drew! So good to see you, old boy,” the reverend said, standing and coming towards them to shake hands with her fiance.

“My dear,” Andrew said, drawing her forward. “This is The Reverend James Langley, an old friend from school and partner in crime in our wild youth, before he became a respectable man of the cloth.”

Reverend Langley laughed at that. “You are about to become respectable yourself. And I assume this enchanting young lady is the reason for your turn to respectability?”

“She is indeed. James, this is my betrothed, Lady Artemis Beaufort.”

The Rector was a surprise. She had envisioned an older man with a serious and solemn disposition. Not someone about the same age as Andrew, with laughing eyes, an irreverent attitude and a flair for the dramatic. He was handsome as well, his looks more suited to tempting women to sin than to encourage pious thoughts. Not her, for course. She only had eyes for Andrew.

“How do you do, Reverend Langley?” she said with a small curtsey.

The Reverend extended his hand and when she placed hers in his, brought it to his lips for a kiss.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my dear. You must call me James, as your soon to be husband does.”

Her soon to be husband... the words sent a thrill of anticipation through her.

An hour later, after just enough time to refresh themselves and don their wedding finery, they were standing at the front of the church, listening to a very eloquent speech by Reverend Langley.

The words resonated with meaning, every one of them carrying the name of her beloved. Drew was looking at her with all the love and tenderness that was undoubtedly reflected in her own eyes.

They both said their vows with clear, confident voices, if a little choked by emotion. And then, at last, the reverend pronounced them man and wife. Andrew’s smile was brilliant as he drew her close and kissed her passionately on the mouth, to the cheer and clapping of the members of the congregation the reverend had invited as witnesses. The parishioners even showered them with rice as they exited the church and entered a new chapter of their lives as a married couple.