One True Love Part 10

"Do you think the sheep farmer can dance a quadrille?" the viscount asked, sneering as Max faced him. "I'm surprised he managed the waltz. What did you trade for lessons, Halfurst, mutton?"

Maximilian gazed at Howard levelly. The guests had grown silent, the better to overhear someone else's business. Of more concern to him was Anne, practically quivering with anger and indignation beside him.

At that moment he realized he wouldn'ta"couldn'ta"lose her, no matter what it took. She'd made several good points in her argument. Whether he cared about his reputation or not, she did, and if they were to be married, their names would become joined.

"I have respected my fiancee's friends.h.i.+p with you, Howard," he said in a low, level voice. "But now you are embarra.s.sing her. Leave."

" 'Leave?' I have no intention of going anywhere. You're the outsider here, marquis."

"Lord Howard, please stop," Anne hissed. "You've done enough damage."

"Oh, I've barely begun. Please, let's hear more of your witty repartee, sheep farmer."

That was enough of that. Anne had urged him to take action. "How's this?" Max returned.

He shot out with his right fist, catching Howard square in the jaw. With a grunt the viscount dropped to the polished floor.

"Much better." Maximilian faced Anne, ignoring the explosion of gasps and t.i.ttering from all around them. "Come with me."

"Good heavens," she whispered, staring at Howard's crumpled form. "One punch."

Max was unable to help a grim smile at her astounded expression. "You should have told me earlier that you preferred a man of action."

Anne felt too dazed to speak as the marquis led her out the nearest exit and down a narrow set of stairs. She'd only meant that he should defend his reputation verballya"knocking Desmond unconscious had not been part of the scenario, satisfying as the sight had been. "He's going to be very angry."

"Hence my escorting you from the scene," Maximilian returned, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. "Where in d.a.m.nation are we?"

"These are the servants' stairs, I think."

As she spoke, a footman laden with a tray of sweetmeats exited through a swinging door, nearly colliding with Halfurst.

"Beg pardon, my lord," he stammered, attempting to bow and balance at the same tune.

"What's through there?" Maximilian asked, indicating the door.

"The kitchen, my lord."

"Is there an exit on the other side?"

"Yes, my lord. To the gardens."

"Good." The servant continued to gawk at the two of them, until the marquis nudged him toward the stairs. "Go."

As soon as the footman vanished up the stairs, Maximilian yanked Anne up against him and lowered his head to kiss her with a ferociousness that left her breathless and taut with desire.

"Someone will see us," she managed, tangling her fingers in his black hair.

"I don't care."

"I do."

He lifted his head again, gazing down at her with glittering gray eyes. "Because you don't want to be forced into marriage?"

he breathed.

"Maxa""

Grabbing her hand, he pushed through the kitchen door. A dozen servants froze in various stages of meal preparation.

"Ignore us," he commanded. Heads lowered at once.

"Maximilian," she repeated, half wis.h.i.+ng she'd kept quiet so he might have continued kissing her in the hallway, "what happens now?"

"Wait here a moment."

To her surprise he left her and went scouring about the kitchen, apparently looking for a snack. At the far end of the room he seemed to find what he was after, because with a murmured word to one of the cooks, he wrapped something large in a napkin and returned to Anne.

"You know your Greek mythology, I presume?" he asked, holding out his hand.

"Yes," she answered, dividing her attention between his intent face and the item resting on his palm, "though I don't see the relevance between goldena"halveda"apples and this situation."

A slow smile touched his mouth. "Wrong myth. Open it."

Her heart unexpectedly thudding, Anne pulled back the napkin. "A pomegranate," she said. A pomegranate.

Maximilian cleared his throat. "As you may recall, the lovely Persephone found herself torn between her lover, Hades, in the world below, and her mother, Demeter, in the world above, until they devised a way for her to have both."

Abruptly Anne couldn't breathe. "You would leave Yorks.h.i.+re?" she asked, her voice breaking.

"That, my love, is up to you."

A tear ran down her cheek. "You called me your love," she managed.

"That is because I love you."

"Oh my, oh my," she whispered. She could have everything, now. She could have Maximilian Robert Trent. He would be hers, forever. Fingers shaking, she removed six pomegranate seeds, one after the other. "Six months in Yorks.h.i.+re, and six months in London," she said.

"And you with me, Anne. Say you'll marry me."

She took the red fruit from his hand and set it aside, then flung her arms around his shoulders. "I will. Yes, I will marry you,"

she said, laughing and crying at the same time. "I love you so much."

He kissed her, lifting her in his arms and swinging her around and around. "Thank G.o.d," he murmured, over and over again.

Anne couldn't stop kissing him. Three weeks ago she would never have thought that she would agree to marry a sheep farmer, much less that she would want to do so. He would have to stay in town a few more days now, because she didn't think she could stand letting him leave without her. And if he obtained a special license quickly, they could be in Yorks.h.i.+re by spring, and she would be able to see the daffodils bloom.

"Happy St. Valentine's Day," she whispered, hugging him tightly.

She felt him smile. "Happy St. Valentine's Day."