With This Kiss: Part Two by Eloisa James Read Free Book Online Page A

in his soul.
    “Lily,” he said, flatly. His life was over. He would have to sit opposite Grace at a hundred family dinners, watching her smile, watching her eyes light up at McIngle’s jests, while he was paired with her silly sister.
    There was a rustle of cloth across the room and a little gasp. Another drift of perfume reached him.
    “Exactly when did we wed?” he asked. He might as well begin this marriage with honesty. “I have no memory of it.” He would have walked forward, but he didn’t want his wife to see him stumbling about like a fool.
    Wife?
    Impossible.
    Suddenly rage flowed up his spine. He hadn’t planned to marry, but damn it, if he chose to do so, he wanted the happiness of his parents, or of the duke and duchess. He had hoped for that soul-deep connection.
    “Madam,” he said, hearing nothing but quick breathing. “I must confess that I find this marriage not only unexpected, but questionable.”
    He heard a faint creak as she rose from her seat, and then the whisper of slippers against the carpet as she walked toward him. She was clearly young and lithe. Surely it was Lily, rather than an utter stranger. He crossed his arms over his chest, knowing that his face held the arrogant rage of a shipboard captain, but helpless to soften it.
    He could not imagine the duchess party to such a wedding. He must have been married to a complete stranger, likely by the same lying bastard of a leech who drugged him. Her Grace would never be party to criminality.
    Then memory of his discovery in the bath shot into his mind: the fraudulent marriage was consummated. He’d been taken, as neatly as any innocent maiden kidnapped by a rogue. The thought made him blind with rage—an oxymoron, in his situation.
    “C-Colin,” he heard, the voice just audible over the drumming of blood in his ears.
    He located the woman by that whisper, took one step and caught her arm in a fierce grip. “Who are you?” His mind darted through possibilities. He’d been kidnapped, drugged, and married for his money… for his connections… “ Who are you? ” It came out in a bellow.
    “Grace,” came a faint voice, followed by a hiccup and another sob. “I’m Grace, Colin. Not Lily. I’m—I’m so sorry.”
    His mind reeled. “Grace? What in the hell are you—” He dropped her arm, fell back a step, and jumped to the obvious conclusion. “ You were in my carriage. I—we—that was you .”
    There was another sob, and he surged forward again, gathering her into his arms. She folded against him, her body as fragile as that of a bird. He was holding Grace, just as he’d dreamed of doing. Every male instinct he had roared with triumph.
    But her shoulders were shaking as she wept.
    Slowly, it dawned on him. He hadn’t been taken: he had taken . He’d ruined her. Worse, she likely hadn’t even consented. Perhaps he lunged at her like a beast. Laudanum was no excuse if he had raped her. He had committed an evil for which he himself had cashiered sailors.
    “I gather the duchess asked you to accompany me to the country,” he said, swallowing hard. “Where’s McIngle?”
    “In London,” she said against his waistcoat.
    “We are not married, are we?”
    “No.” Her voice was a thread of sound.
    He followed that truth to its logical conclusion. “You told the innkeeper that we were married because I took advantage of you in the carriage.” He felt as if he had woken to find himself a stranger. “I was in the grip of a dream, Grace; I didn’t know what I was doing. I would never have done such a thing if I had been in my right mind. I am deeply, deeply sorry.”
    It was a cry wrung from his heart. “It must have been terrible for you.” His arms tightened around her. “Bloody hell,” he whispered when she didn’t respond, just cried harder. How could he have done such a thing, even in a dream?
    “How—how awful was it?” he asked, needing to know, his conscience burning like glowing coals in his gut.