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Caroline rolled onto her back and shut her eyes obligingly. She lay like this for what felt like a long time. “Have you woken up yet?” she asked out of the corner of her mouth.
“Yes,” he replied. “I’m just enjoying the view.”
Opening one eye, Caroline found him propped up on one elbow simply gazing at her. The expression in his eyes was so soft, she had to catch her breath. “We forgot the bolster,” she remarked. The cats should also be in bed with them by rights and Gervaise had certainly not been naked under the sheets the first time around, but she left these inconsistencies unspoken.
“Imagine I have already dispensed with the bolster,” he replied, entirely unruffled. “Are you awake now?”
“Were you waiting for me to wake?” she asked with surprise. He nodded. “Oh, then yes.” She turned her head to look at him.
He cleared his throat. “Miss Halperston,” he said, looking serious. “Forgive me, but circumstances made it regrettably necessary for me to compromise you last night, and now we must marry with all due haste.”
Caroline frowned at him. “Regrettably necessary?” she repeated. This was not playing out at all the way she had thought it would.
“I’m afraid so.” He looked so sincere, Caroline felt faintly outraged.
She sat up. “No, this won’t do,” she said firmly and started climbing out of the bed. “You are spectacularly bad at asking people to marry you!”
“Caroline—” he said in a panicked voice, leaning over and catching hold of her nightgown as her feet hit the floor. “Where are you going?”
“I am waking first,” she said, yanking her borrowed nightgown free from his grip. “But this time, I do not feel the aftereffects of a crushing migraine. Instead, I am in full possession of my faculties as you are about to find out to your detriment!” He looked nonplused. She held up an admonishing finger. “I woke first,” she insisted and stalked around to the foot of the bed.
He settled back against the headboard and nodded his assent. “Continue.”
“Sir!” she addressed him, flinging back her head. “You are a scoundrel of the worst order! You took advantage of me when I was at my lowest ebb and have now ruined me in the eyes of polite society. I demand reparation! I demand that you take me forthwith to a parson and make an honest woman out of me.”
Gervaise rolled his eyes upward, seemingly considering her proposal. “I don’t know that our situation really warrants such drastic measures, madam,” he prevaricated. “We slept all night with a bolster between us, and we both know you leave this bed as blameless as you entered it.”
“Oh?” Caroline said, folding her arms and sticking her foot out so she could tap it against the rug. “And what of our good host and hostess who I am sure would testify on my behalf?”
“Are you sure though? Really sure?” he countered, drawing up his knees and resting his elbows on them. “Witnesses are not always as dependable as they should be, especially when money is involved.”
She gave an indignant gasp. “You dare to speak to me of bribery, my lord? You are bold indeed!”
“Oh, I am very bold,” he agreed, a gleam in his eyes. “If you come a little closer, you’ll find out just how bold I can be.”
“I am not afraid of you,” she said, marching around to his side of the bed. “Perhaps you should show me this alleged bolster, for I see no sign of it—”
Abruptly, Caroline found herself caught up under her arms and hauled onto the bed. She lay on her back beneath him, blinking up at him. “How dare you, sir?” she said breathlessly. In truth, she did not sound as irate as she ought.
“I am afraid you have made a grave miscalculation, my dear Miss Halperston,” he said, lowering his face to hers.
“How so?”
“You look so pretty when you’re outraged,” he said huskily. “And I find I like an imperious woman.”
Unable to resist, she reached up to stroke his cheek. “Is that so?” she murmured, her eyes roaming over his face. “You’re very handsome too, despite your caddish ways. I always thought so. Even the first time I ever saw you at the Farises’ Christmas party.”
“I’m thinking of reforming,” he said in a low voice. “The right woman could likely bring me to heel.”
“Is that so?”
“Think you’re the equal to such a task?”
“I don’t know…” she prevaricated.
“Tell me to kiss you,” he growled. “Order me to.”
“Kiss me, Gervaise,” she muttered, her hand sliding into his hair. “I want you to.”