He chuckled softly. “Ah, yes, I noticed the maids scurrying about in a most frantic fashion. Have you been terrorizing them?”

  She pulled back with a frown of annoyance. She might readily display her ill temper with her father and even Edward, but she would never bully a hapless servant.

  “Certainly not. I possess great respect for servants and the work they perform.”

  His features melted to a tender expression. “I know you do, muirnin. Which is only one of the many reasons I love you so desperately.”

  Desperately?

  Oh . . . she liked the sound of that.

  She liked it to the very depths of her soul.

  Slowly she twined her arms about his neck, arching against his stirring body.

  “What are the other reasons?”

  He shuddered as he cupped her hips and pressed her firmly to his erection.

  “I am attempting to reveal them to you if only you would cooperate.”

  She laughed as she regarded him from beneath lowered lashes. “I really am very busy.”

  His eyes smoldered with a passion that nearly set the air on fire. “Then you may consider yourself relieved of your post.”

  She blinked in surprise. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I no longer desire you as my housekeeper.”

  Ridiculously, she found herself offended by his blunt dismissal. “That is not fair. I happen to be doing an excellent job.”

  He smiled at her sharp tone. “You are, but I have another post in mind for a lady of your undoubted talents.”

  “And what is that?”

  “My wife.”

  Her heart came to a perfect halt. Wife. Until this moment she was not certain she truly understood the simple beauty of being a wife.

  This man’s wife.

  It was enough to bring a flood of tears to her eyes.

  Embarrassed by the surge of unexpected emotion, Bianca hastily forced a lighthearted smile to her lips. Poor Edward would think her daft if she began weeping whenever he mentioned the word “wife.”

  “I fear I have no references for such a post.”

  “No?” His lips twitched. “A pity, but I am willing to trust in my instincts on this occasion.”

  “Very generous of you, my lord.” She toyed with the curls at his nape. “Are there many other applicants?”

  Without warning his smile faded and he regarded her with an intensity that seemed almost tangible.

  “Not one,” he swore in husky tones. “There is only you, Lady Bianca. Only you.”

  She felt as if she were melting. Oh heavens, she loved this man. More than she thought it possible to love anyone.

  Shifting onto the tips of her toes, Bianca allowed her lips to trail along the line of his jaw.

  “About the library . . . ,” she whispered.

  “Oh yes,” he muttered.

  In a heartbeat, he had swept her off her feet and was hurrying toward the nearby stairs. Bianca laughed with heady delight as his head swooped down to crush her lips in a fierce, possessive kiss.

  Suddenly the curious glances of the servants did not bother her a whit.

  Bianca’s earlier bout of vigor was decidedly absent as she lay wrapped in Edward’s arms. In truth, she was quite certain she might never be capable of moving again.

  Not that she minded, she acknowledged with a sated smile. She could think of no more pleasant means of devoting a morning.

  And half the afternoon.

  With her head pillowed on the broad chest, she absently ran her hands over hair-roughened skin.

  “Breakfast is bound to be cold by now,” she murmured in lazy tones.

  Edward ran his fingers through her curls. He seemed fascinated by the tumbled mass.

  “Mmmm . . . perhaps we shall rise in time for tea.”

  “It seems rather decadent to be lying here in the middle of the day.”

  “I did say you were a bad influence upon me. I have been thoroughly corrupted.”

  She tilted her head to meet his hooded gaze. “Do you mind?”

  “Not as long as you make an honest man of me.”

  She studied him a long moment, her heart lodged in her throat. “You are certain, Edward?”

  He smiled with a slow tenderness. “Yes, muirnin. I am very certain.”

  She blinked back those absurd tears that seemed to be always hovering. What the devil was the matter with her?

  “You do realize the fuss and bother my parents will expect for my wedding?” She felt duty bound to warn him. She better than anyone knew her mother had been planning her wedding since the day she entered the world. “It is bound to be the worst sort of spectacle.”

  His smile never faltered. “As long as you are there, I do not care if they have dancing bears and monkeys leaping upon on the altar.”

  “Do not jest. My mother has a great fondness for peacocks, and she will no doubt have the grounds filled with the beasts. Not to mention the entire royal family.”

  “Egads, peacocks and the Prince?” He gave a dramatic shudder. “Perhaps we should consider eloping.”

  Bianca snuggled closer to his warm body. She could think of nothing better than simply being done with the business so she need never be taken from his side.

  “I will not object if that is what you prefer.”

  He gave her curls a gentle tweak. “We could not possibly disappoint your mother. Besides which . . .”

  Her brows lifted as his words trailed away. “Yes?”

  The hazel eyes smoldered with a heat that touched her very heart. “Besides which, I want the entire world to know beyond a shadow of a doubt you are mine.”

  She touched her lips to his chest. “And that you are mine.”

  “From the moment I saw you across that crowded room.”

  His head lowered, but before he could reach her lips there was a disturbance outside. With a shocking lack of embarrassment, he rose from the sofa and crossed to the window. Not that Bianca truly minded. She fully enjoyed the view of his hard, perfectly chiseled male form.

  Of course, she preferred it when it was not quite so far away.

  There was a moment of silence before Edward turned back to regard her with a small grimace.

  “I fear our delightful solitude is about to come to an end, muirnin. We have a caller.”

  A faint flutter of fear raced through Bianca as she sat up and reached for her shift. Dear God, surely her father had not discovered her disappearance so swiftly?

  “Who is it?”

  “Biddles.”

  She breathed out a sigh of relief. “Good heavens, what would Lord Bidwell be doing here?”

  He turned to flash a wry smile. “Whatever it might be, he will not be satisfied cooling his heels in the foyer. Whether we might wish it or not, he is about to stick that pointed nose directly into our business.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Several hours later, Edward found himself strolling the gardens with his friend. Thus far they had discussed nothing more pressing than the latest news from Parliament and the usual gossip swirling about London.

  Bianca had disappeared shortly after tea, no doubt sensing that the two men desired to be alone, but still Biddles had avoided revealing his reasons for traveling to Kent.

  An avoidance that was beginning to stretch Edward’s renowned patience.

  As much as he enjoyed Lord Bidwell’s companionship, he would far prefer to devote himself to Bianca. All too soon this stolen interlude would come to an end and she would be forced to return to her parents’ home until the lavish wedding could be properly planned and conducted.

  It might be months before he had her alone again.

  Still, he could not be openly rude to the gentleman who had been his friend since they were both grubby lads. Sooner or later Biddles would confess his reasons for his unexpected arrival.

  He could only hope it would be sooner.

  Reaching the edge of the garden, Biddles came to an abrupt halt, his nose wrinkling at the unmistakable scent of rich earth and manure.

  Hiding his smile, Edward stepped beside his friend and arched a teasing brow.

  “I assure you that the natives will not attack if you go beyond the grounds.”

  Flicking open his fan, Biddles wafted it vigorously beneath his pointed nose.

  “It is not the natives that concern me, old friend. It is those horrid cows. They are always eyeing me as if they intend some nefarious business.”

  Edward could not halt his laugh. He had never encountered a gentleman more suited to London.

  “They are no doubt in shock,” he murmured, his gaze moving over the crimson coat and yellow breeches. “It is not often they encounter such a brilliant ensemble.”

  Biddles offered a sniff. “Of course they do not. There are few who possess my flare for fashion.”

  “Thank God.”

  “Careful, Harrington.” A dangerous smile curved the nobleman’s lips. “I recall a certain pair of pink stockings that nearly got you beat to death at school.”

  Edward shuddered at the unpleasant memory. A boarding school was no place for the weak or helpless. It was a brutal environment that tested the staunchest of nerve.

  “They were a gift from my horrid Aunt Esmeralda. Since she was paying for the school, what could I do?” He gave a small shrug. “Besides, I held my own.”

  Biddles rolled his eyes heavenward. “Why should you not? Even then you were big as an ox.”

  “And you were a sly little ferret that always managed to slip out of trouble.”

  A decidedly smug expression settled on the narrow countenance. “When you are half the size of other lads, you must learn to protect yourself by means other than brawn. Thankfully, I discovered that information is a powerful weapon.”

  “You managed to hold the entire school hostage with your nasty little skill, from the head master to the lowest servant.”

  “Except for you.” Abruptly turning, Biddles regarded him with a piercing gaze. “You were so damnably perfect that I could not discover even the smallest sin to hold over your head. Gads, I do not believe you even cheated upon an exam.”

  “Hardly perfect.”

  “You are one of the few honest men I have ever encountered.”

  Edward found himself oddly embarrassed beneath the steady gaze. Hell’s teeth, he possessed all the faults and weaknesses of every other man.

  Perhaps even a few additional ones if he were to search hard enough.

  “Are you going to tell me why you have come to Kent?” he abruptly demanded, anxious to change the subject. And even more anxious to be alone with Bianca.

  Biddles paused before he at last gave a lift of his shoulders. “I was concerned.”

  “For me?”

  “Lady Bianca did not reveal my part in her arrival here?”

  A frown touched Edward’s brow. “No.”

  Biddles returned his attention to the distant meadows. “She came to me and demanded to know where you had disappeared to.”

  Edward could not deny that he was surprised. Oh, not by Bianca confronting Biddles. He had discovered his soon-to-be wife possessed a stubborn will that would allow nothing to stand in her path. But he was taken off guard that Biddles would allow himself to be bullied. He had faced Napoleon himself without batting a lash.

  “And you told her?”

  “Obviously.”

  “Why?” Edward probed, his curiosity thoroughly roused. “I thought you disapproved of my relationship with her.”

  “I did. But . . .”

  “Yes?”

  The pale gaze slashed back in his direction. “She managed to convince me that she loved you despite her reputation of being without a heart. Did I do wrong?”

  “No.” Reaching out, Edward placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “In fact, I am in your debt.”

  “You have decided to forgive her?”

  Edward gave a firm shake of his head. “There was nothing to forgive. I realize now that I was merely using Lord Aldron as a reason to push Bianca away.”

  Biddles shut his fan with a snap. “You do not love her?”

  “God, I love her so much it makes me ache,” Edward readily admitted.

  “Then why would you push her away?”

  “Because I did not truly believe she could be content as my wife.” He sucked in a deep breath, his gaze instinctively turning toward the small manor house. “What do I have to offer such a woman? I am a plain, simple man who prefers being among my tenants to dashing about society. Even worse, I have managed to make an enemy of half the aristocrats with my radical notions. What if she finds herself shunned by her friends and family?”

  Shockingly, Biddles tilted back his head to laugh at his dark mutterings.

  “Good God, Edward, Lady Bianca is not only the daughter of a duke, but she possesses the stubborn determination of a mule. I do not doubt she will rule society no matter how radical your notions.”

  Edward could hardly argue with such obvious logic. Bianca was a force to be reckoned with. He knew that better than anyone.

  “No doubt,” he conceded with a reluctant smile. “Still, I am hardly the sort of dandy she has become accustomed to.”

  Biddles gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “You cannot believe a woman might prefer honor and integrity to shallow sophistication?”

  Edward felt himself stiffen at the accusation. How could a gentleman such as Biddles possibly understand? He had been born and raised to consider his blood bluer than that of others. He would never doubt his own worth.

  “I can only trust that she does,” he said so softly that the breeze stole the words from his lips.

  Still, Biddles must have at least sensed something of his inner doubt as he frowned in sudden concern.

  “Edward—”

  The sharp sound of pounding footsteps interrupted whatever Biddles had been about to say, and both gentlemen turned about to watch a young lad charge up the path toward them. “What the devil is that?” Biddles muttered in surprise.

  “My lord.” The lad waved his arms in a frantic manner. “You must come quick.”

  Edward stepped forward. “What is it?”

  “The Foster cottage has caught fire.”

  “Good God.” He glanced toward his companion. “I must go.”

  “I will join you,” Biddles swiftly offered.

  “No, I need you to stay here with Bianca. If the blaze becomes out of control, I want you to take her to the village. There should be rooms at the inn.”

  “But—”

  “Please, Biddles.” He grabbed his friend’s arm, his expression fierce. “I need to know she is in no danger.”

  Biddles gave a nod of his head. “Very well.”

  Assured that Bianca would be safe, Edward set off at a swift run. Collecting the young boy, he commanded him to race to the church as quickly as possible to ring the bells. Soon the entire neighborhood would be gathering to assist in putting out the fire.

  Until then he had to ensure that the Fosters had reached safety.

  Bianca regarded Lord Bidwell with a hand pressed to her heart. There was something upon the narrow countenance that sent a chill down her spine.

  “A fire? Dear God, where is Edward?”

  There was a short pause, almost as if the gentleman was debating whether or not to lie to her.

  “He has gone to assist,” he at last grudgingly admitted.

  The chill became more pronounced, and without thought she turned to hurry from the parlor. “No. I will not allow it.”

  “Hold.” Moving with a speed that caught Bianca off guard, the nobleman was standing directly in her path. “You must remain here.”

  Her hands clenched at her side as a wrenching pain clutched at her heart. Dammit all, why was this man pestering her? She did not have the time for this nonsense.

  “When Edward is in danger? Do not be daft,” she growled.

  “Now move aside.”

  Lord Bidwell held up a slender hand. “Lady Bianca, I cannot allow this. Edward specifically commanded me to ensure you remained far away from the fire.”

  She narrowed her gaze with seething impatience. “And what of Edward?”

  “He will be quite safe. No doubt by the time he reaches the cottage, the tenants will have it well in hand.”

  “And if they do not?” she demanded, her vivid imagination already filled with ghastly images of her fiancé dashing to the flaming cottage. “You know Edward. He is so blasted noble he is bound to risk his bloody neck if he thinks it necessary.”

  “Edward will do nothing foolish,” he retorted, his expression one of grim determination. “And neither will you. Not even if I have to tie you to a chair.”

  Bianca attempted to charge around the slender lord, not at all above an ugly brawl if that was what was needed to reach Edward. Unfortunately, the slender man was astonishingly strong, and even as she darted forward he had captured her in his arms with a grip that she could not break.

  “Lord Bidwell, I insist that you release me,” she gritted in rising fury.

  “Not until I have your promise that you will obey Edward’s command.”

  Knowing that she had no hope of physically overcoming her captor, Bianca accepted that deception was her only hope of escape. A knowledge that did not trouble her a whit.

  Not when Edward might very well be in danger.

  With practiced ease, she smoothed her expression to one of resigned petulance.

  “Oh . . . very well,” she muttered, stiffly waiting until he warily lowered his arms. “At least I must request that cook prepare some food for those assisting Edward. I trust that meets with your approval?”

  His eyes narrowed with suspicion. “So long as you do not leave the manor.”

  She managed a tight smile. “Make yourself comfortable, Lord Bidwell. I shall return as soon as I have completed my task.”

  Without a backward glance, she swept out of the parlor and down the short hall to the stairs. She even turned to head toward the kitchen in the event the sly man was keeping an eye upon her. Only when she was out of sight did she hastily dodge into a side passage that led her to a small door.