She smoothed away the wrinkles from the front of his evening coat. "No ... Even if I agreed, it cannot be done."

"Have some faith in me. I do not make promises that I cannot keep." The arrogance and determination that had driven him since he had left his father's club evaporated when Regan started to tremble. "Ho! There, there ... Christ, don't cry. I thought you would be overjoyed that I finally came to my senses."

"You call this coming to your senses?" Regan laughed even as she wiped away the wetness clinging to her eyelashes. "You sneered when I told you that Lady Karmack was interested in finding me a husband."

"I sneered because you do not have to look for one. You have me."

Regan was not particularly overwhelmed by his declaration. "Why?"

"Why?" He frowned at the question. "Because I am tired of fighting the attraction between us. Although I tried to deny it, that need was there, just beneath the surface when we kissed at Nox five years ago. Time has not caused it to wither. Denial has not smothered it. My feelings for you continue to flourish despite my futile attempts to resist-"

"Of all the insulting things to say!"

His throat burned as bile and panic rose. With all the ways he had imagined revealing his plans to Regan, Dare had not considered that she might reject him. "Do not try to lie and tell me that you do not feel it. We belong together."

Her lowered gaze did not bode well.

"Is it not true that you defied your brother and came to London for me? Earlier this evening at Lady Karmack's, you claimed that you were willing to accept a relationship on my terms."

Her chin snapped up. Anger blazed in her blue eyes. Dare preferred it to sorrow and defeat. "You are twisting my words."

"You want to hear my terms? Fine. I want to marry you. Tonight." He caressed the silky strands of her hair, wondering if he could convince her to not pin it up for their wedding. "I will settle for nothing less."

"You told Frost that you had no intention of marrying me. Now you come to me and claim otherwise. Why? This is about Lady Karmack's small gathering, is it not? You fear that you might lose me to another," she said solemnly, her watchful gaze studying his face.

"You are wrong."

"Be honest, Dare. If I had not arrived in London, you would be happily bedding Mrs. Randall or some other lady who had caught your eye this season."

One of the tiny muscles under his left eye twitched. The unpleasant realization that Regan had struck closer to the truth than Dare cared to acknowledge did not mean that she was correct. "It is unfair to hold me accountable for something that never happened. You did come to London, and seeing you again gave me a chance to come to my senses. There is no other woman for me but you."

Dare had grown weary of talking. He captured her lips with his and tried to explain without words his feelings for her. As his mouth moved reverently over her lips, he could taste the salt of her tears. Threading his fingers into her dark tresses, he silently coaxed her to open her mouth. His confidence grew as Regan tentatively returned his kiss.

They were both breathless when he pulled away.

"Oh," she said as another tear slid down her cheek. "I believe you."

Relief swept over Dare. Still, he would not be satisfied until he heard the words from her lips. "And what about you? Has another man caught your fancy? Perhaps one of those preening peacocks hovering over you at Lady Karmack's?"

Regan gave him a watery smile. "No. There is no one else."

The pain in his ribs lessened at her confession. "Good. Then it is settled. Get dressed. We're getting married."

"Now?" She made an exasperated sound when Dare opened her large mahogany wardrobe and retrieved a dress from the clothes press. "It is impossible. We cannot marry without a special license-"

"The license is in my coat pocket."

The whites of her eyes widened as luminous as moonlight. "You have a license?"

"I purchased it shortly after Frost ordered me from the house." He held up a dress. "What about this one?"

"But why?"

Dare glanced at the dress and scowled. "Do I have to have a reason? It seems fine enough for a-"

"I am not talking about the dress!" She marched over and plucked it from his hands. "Although it certainly will not do. I was referring to the special license."

He stepped aside and watched as she searched for a dress. "After what was said, I assumed I would need more than an apology."

Regan straightened and shook out the dress in her hands. Her right brow lifted as she peered over the fabric in her outstretched arms. "Hmm ... I do not recall receiving an apology or an offer of marriage from you at Lady Karmack's."

"That was because you were too busy flirting with those gents!" he snapped. He immediately regretted his outburst. A man did not coax a skittish lady into marriage by slapping at her with his sour temper.

She brought her hand up to her opened mouth. Dare braced himself for tears or a severe scolding because he deserved both for being so clumsy with his words.

After a moment of silence, Regan surprised him by laughing. Soft melodious sniggers began in her chest until they frothed and bubbled through her fingers and she had to let her hand fall away so she could catch her breath. Staggering backward, her back bumped against the door of the wardrobe as she hugged the dress tightly to her chest. "Good grief, you were jealous. How perfectly splendid!"

Dare stalked toward her. "You sound rather pleased with yourself."

"Oh, I am." She bit the tip of her first finger and stared at him artfully. "Lord Hugh Mordare, worried about a few-what did you call them?-Ah, yes ... peacocks!"

Regan Alice was enjoying herself at his expense, but his pride could take the licks and scrapes. He grabbed the edge of the door of the wardrobe with one hand and braced the other on the wood above Regan's head, caging her with his body.

"Keep your bloody peacocks. I won't begrudge a few wishful glances from lovelorn gents if you end my torment and marry me." His lips brushed her right temple. "Marry me, Regan."

Dare moved closer, letting his hips brush against hers. He was aroused, and had been since he had entered her bedchamber. If he could not gain her consent with reason, then perhaps he should try seduction.

"You need more than a special license," Regan argued, forcing Dare to concentrate on the task at hand. "You will need Frost's approval."

"Do not worry about Frost." Regan was one year under the age of consent, and that had slightly complicated matters. While Dare had secured the necessary papers, he doubted Regan would approve of his methods. So he refrained from mentioning them.

Dare cupped Regan's face with both hands. "All I need is your consent. What say you? Will you marry me?"

Chapter Twenty-seven.

At the stroke of midnight, Lady Regan Alice Bishop married Lord Hugh Mordare in the Marchioness of Netherley's drawing room. At Dare's insistence, Regan had worn the same amber dress she had donned for her first night in London. Bearing witness to their union, the marchioness stood beside Regan, quietly weeping into her handkerchief. Next to Dare, Vane stood like a silent sentinel.

It was not until Regan had entered Lady Netherley's drawing room that she realized Frost and the rest of their friends would not be joining them.

Her new husband had neglected to inform her that they were essentially eloping. Always a practical man, Dare had managed to marry her without bundling her into a traveling coach and heading for Gretna Green. Before she could work up any ire over Dare's high-handedness, Lady Netherley rushed up to them and proclaimed their nuptials the most romantic she had ever witnessed.

With a watery glance at Vane, who was studiously ignoring her, the marchioness told the couple that their love match had given her renewed hope that she would find the perfect lady for her wayward son.

Vane snarled at his sweet mother and sent Dare a glare that promised retribution before he excused himself. Satisfied that their paperwork was in order, and his duty fulfilled, the vicar was the next to depart. Dare had not told her how much he had offered the vicar to marry them at such a late hour; however, both men seemed content with their private arrangement.

Soon, Dare was announcing their departure to Lady Netherley. As he once again expressed his gratitude to the marchioness, Regan took a moment to admire the ring Dare had placed on her finger. The five-carat pale honeycolored topaz gleamed like captured firelight within its silver-cream circle of natural pearls. It should not have surprised her, but the rose-gold ring fit her finger perfectly. Regan cast a sly glance at her husband. A gentleman who carried a ring and a special license in his coat pocket had not been exaggerating when he expressed his earnest desire to be leg-shackled to her.

"Are you ready to depart, my lovely bride?" Dare asked, his eyes silently pleading for assistance. Sentimental and slightly tipsy from the wine she had imbibed to toast the bride and groom, Lady Netherley appeared reluctant to release Dare from her clutches.

Regan hid her smile as she casually walked over to Dare and the marchioness. "Yes, my lord. I confess, I have not yet grown accustomed to these late evenings." She placed her gloved hand on Dare's arm and smiled at their hostess. "Lady Netherley, we cannot thank you enough for everything that you have done for us. Bless you and your romantic heart."

Lady Netherley released Dare and opened her arms to give Regan a wobbly embrace. "Think nothing of it, my dear girl." Regan winced at the marchioness's fierce hug. "There is no shame, now that you and Dare have done the right thing. And you can trust me to keep your secret."

"Come, love," Dare said curtly, deftly separating the two woman. "We have kept this good woman from her bed long enough."

Regan glanced back at Lady Netherley as Dare dragged her out the open front door. "But-" She barely had enough time to raise her hand in farewell before the woman was out of sight. "I am going to lose one of my evening slippers if you do not slow down."

Dare immediately adjusted his pace. "My apologies. I feared if we tarried further, Lady Netherley would insist that we spend the night under her roof."

"And would that be so awful? She is a delightful woman. Vane is very fortunate to have such a loving mother."

Regan nodded to the coachman as she ascended the narrow steps and climbed into the coach. She listened as Dare ordered the coachman to return them to her brother's town house. Regan looked up and caught him watching her while she adjusted her skirts to make room for her husband's long legs.

"Lady Netherley is a resourceful and generous lady. Nevertheless, I have no desire to spend my wedding night comforting her," he said, sliding onto the bench beside her.

A soft thud halted their conversation. The door of the coach opened, and Vane's muscular frame filled the doorway. He was hatless, and his cheeks were flushed as if he had run to catch their coach before it had departed.

"I had not realized the hour. Forgive me for not being there when you said your farewells to my mother."

Regan gave Vane a tender smile. "We understand. It must have been difficult. Everyone is well aware that your mother has such high hopes that you will soon make a good match."

Vane snorted. "Well, that will be impossible since Dare has stolen the prettiest lady in London from me."

Dare scowled at the playful reminder that Vane had flirted with Regan on several occasions. "Count your blessings, my friend. I spared your pretty face, did I not?"

Regan rolled her eyes, ignoring the sudden heat rising in her cheeks. She was dreadfully fond of Vane, but he was not the man she had longed for during her absence from London.

"I wish..." Vane lowered his gaze as he sought the proper words. "... I wish you both a happy and loving marriage." The corners of his mouth quirked into something akin to devilish as his gaze alighted on Dare. "A little luck wouldn't hurt, too. Especially when Frost-"

"There is still time for me to bloody your nose, you silly jackanapes." Dare leaned forward and pounded on the small trapdoor. "Let us be off."

Vane seemed untroubled by Dare's casually delivered threat. "Save your fists for Frost." He closed the door as the coach moved forward. "You'll need them!"

Regan tilted her head and stared at Vane's diminishing figure until he was swallowed by the darkness. "What did Vane mean when he said that you needed to save your fists for my brother?" She gasped as the answer struck her like a carriage whip. "Frost does not know about the wedding."

"Your brother is resourceful. He will learn about it soon enough."

Regan gaped at him. How could Dare be so nonchalant? Frost was likely to murder them both when he learned that they had married without his consent. "Wait! How is this so? You needed my brother's permission to marry."

Dare brought her hand to his lips, kissing the knuckle above the ring he had placed on her finger. "And I had it. An excellent forgery of the man's handwriting, if I do not say so myself. The vicar never even questioned it."

"Oh, my God." Feeling a little dizzy, Regan gave him a bemused stare. "Is that even legal?"

"No one will challenge the authenticity of the letter," he assured her. "Not even your brother. Frost adores you. He would be the last one to drag you into a messy scandal."

No wonder Vane was certain that Dare would need his fists. While Frost may permit the marriage to stand, his pride would demand a blood price.

"Good grief, is Lady Netherley part of this deception? Is that the secret she was referring to as we were leaving the house?"

Dare hesitated, and shot her a wary sideways glance. "Well, I might have embellished our unfortunate predicament when I approached the vicar."

Regan swallowed. "Unfortunate predicament?"

"I may have confessed to the good man that you were enciente."

She slapped his hand away when he tried to reach for her. "Of all the outrageous things! How could you tell everyone that I was-" Regan stopped in midsentence as her gaze locked on the trapdoor. She lowered her voice to a mere whisper. "In a delicate condition."

Flustered and embarrassed by his lie, Regan was mad enough to kick him in the shin. Forgetting about the coachman, she shouted, "You had absolutely no right!"

"How do you know it is a lie?" he quietly countered.

The question took the wind out of her high dudgeon. Indeed, how did she know? Her blue gaze narrowed on her new husband. "A woman knows such things. I am definitely not-not that!"

"Of course you're not," Dare said soothingly. Ignoring her feeble attempts to avoid touching him, he pulled her close so her body molded against his side. He smoothed back the strands of hair that had come undone during their brief struggle. "I only meant to sway the vicar to our side. However, since the lie has distressed you-"

"It has."

"Then I can only think of one thing that will satisfy us both." Dare lightly kissed her pouting lips. "I will dedicate myself to the task of making certain that I spoke the truth."

"Wait!"

Uninterested in continuing their conversation, Dare crushed Regan against the leather-cushioned bench as his mouth plundered hers. Her arms curled around his neck, Regan sighed and pulled him closer.

For once, she was willing to let Dare have the final word.

Chapter Twenty-eight.

Life with Dare would never be boring, Regan mused. With Dare's hand on her backside, he managed to help her climb up the ivy-covered trellis and onto the balcony.

Regan collapsed into the nearest chair. "Sneaking back into my bedchamber is more laborious than I would have guessed. Now that we are married, do you think we might try using one of the side doors?"

Dare ignited several candles. Shadows from the candlelight flickered across his handsome face. "Already losing your taste for adventure?"