Something in her expression must have convinced him that her courage stirred. His smile became less strained. “They wouldn’t catch us tonight.”
She caught her breath. “T-tonight?”
“Yes, tonight.”
He’d always been gentle with her. This hint of arrogance thrilled her. “Where?”
He raised his head and cast a telling look around the room. “Why, here, of course.”
Something other than excitement at the prospect of giving herself to Miles made her heart skip a beat. She’d stifled her fears of the future as she’d stifled them so often since her betrothal. But in this stuffy room, other fears stirred. “In the haunted bed?”
“I thought you dismissed the legend. That’s why you had the bed brought up from the cellars and put back together. You said a woman who believed in science would never fall victim to ludicrous superstition.”
Ordering the bed restored had been an act of defiance, not just against the tragic legend. “I did say that, didn’t I?”
His uncharacteristic ruthlessness faded into the affection that always warmed her. “In fact, you insisted this would be our marital bed, curse be damned. About the same stage you said you didn’t believe Marston Hall was haunted and the aspect was so pleasant, you wanted to live here instead of in one of my houses. You said that even if the doomed Chinese princess’s robes formed the bed’s hangings, her spirit was long gone. She had no further influence over the living.”
“I didn’t say damn,” Calista prevaricated.
Miles laughed softly. She loved his laugh. Just the sound of it made the world a better place. Oh, she was so overwhelmingly in love with him. He’d destroy her before he was done, however much she battled to protect herself, however often she exhorted herself to be daring and seize this chance.
“Perhaps not. But you definitely said that even if wicked Josiah Aston was dragged from the Chinese bed on his fatal wedding day, the bed has no power to curse all newlyweds in this house.”
“I know my qualms sound absurd.” She’d always dismissed the tale of the Chinese princess drinking hemlock after her paramour deserted her. Somehow, today, as she lay on the bed and contemplated her own wedding, the gruesome tale gained fresh sway. “But I’d like formalities out of the way before I test the legend.”
“I’d like to banish any lingering specters with good earthy lust before I make an honest woman of you on the morrow, my love.” He paused, inadvertently giving her a chance to relish the endearment. “The specters in this room, who I don’t believe in at all. And the specters in your heart, who wield far too much power over you.”
Her show of bravado hadn’t fooled him one whit. She hadn’t fallen in love with a stupid man. Which occasionally seemed like a pity.
Miles rolled away and stretched out upon the heavy cream silk, his thoughtful gaze never shifting from her. Even recognizing the intelligence that lurked beneath his decorative exterior, she was surprised that he saw so much of her turmoil. Most people found her hard to read. Briefly the temptation to confide her fears hovered once more. Then like a coward, she avoided the questions in his eyes.
“You’re a barbarian, Miles, putting your boots on that cover. The embroidery is priceless.”
His lips curved in a lazy smile. “If you’re going to nag like a wife, beloved, at least offer me some husbandly privileges to sweeten the pill.”
“Miles—”
“Please.” He extended his hand toward her, palm upward.
Heaven help her, she was a hopeless case. She couldn’t resist him. She could never resist him. Which of course was a large measure of the problem.
Hesitantly she placed her hand in his and felt immediate warmth when his fingers closed hard and secure around hers. At moments like this, she could almost believe that the love in his eyes would endure through the years.
“You’re as wicked as Josiah Aston.” She hoped he wouldn’t hear the revealing huskiness in her voice.
His smile indicated that he recognized his triumph over his bride’s scruples. “Only with you, Calista.”
“If we’re discovered, we’ll be the talk of the county.”
“I’ll make it worthwhile.”
“You’re very sure of yourself.”
Actually she had no doubts he was a wonderful lover. His kisses set her ablaze. She’d spent the last months wandering in a daze of hunger for more than the circumspect encounters they’d sneaked under the watchful gaze of parents and society. Her doubts, as ever, centered on her ability to satisfy him.
“And of you.” It was as if he read her mind. He sat up and pressed a fervent kiss to her palm. “Midnight.”
“Midnight,” she echoed, wondering just what she promised.