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a noisy bellows in the rear guard.
    She wanted to marry him. Even against parental disapproval. Perhaps even refusal. She wanted him. The feeling was very nearly heady.
    She must not know what her father had done, or she would not be so anxious to put herself under his control. And he couldn’t imagine Lady Theodora knew either, or she never would have welcomed him so cordially.
    “Lizzie,” Marlowe called quietly, catching her arm. It was a compulsion, this need he had to touch her. To feel her. To indulge himself in a different kind of triumph. For reasons other than the ones he had concocted at the assembly.
    “As flattered as I am by your insistence on haste, perhaps it would be best if we give your parents a bit more time. Tomorrow is soon enough. You father’s consent—”
    “No.” She cut him off, sliding out of his grasp. “I told you, I mean to go on indepen—”
    “Independently. Yes, I know. But you can’t become independent until he signs that settlement.”
    Lizzie closed her eyes and set her mouth. For the first time in his life, he saw an unrestrained look of raw frustration and real anger color her face. A blotch of heat rose on her chest beneath the transparent fabric of the fichu.
    “Is it too much to ask to have some say in my own future?” Her voice was low and bitter.
    “No. No, it’s not too much to ask, Lizzie. All you have to do is ask the right man.” It was startling, how little she knew of the world.
    “Of course. But then, I still have to ask, don’t I?” Her liquid green gaze was resolute and at the same time astonishingly vulnerable. He instinctively reached out to touch her, startled by her intensity.
    “We all do, Lizzie. No one in this world can expect to sail on his own tack all his life. No matter what, there are duties and responsibilities, and choices and yes, even loves that dictate what we can and cannot do. You’re just too used to getting your own way.” He passed over the draft, setting the paper into her clenched hands. “Read it over,” he ordered gently, “handsomely now, and I’ll make whatever changes you want before it’s presented to your father.”
    She swiped the paper out of his hand, still full of resentment.
    “Then why are you letting me have my own way? Have such control over your fortune?”
    “You can hardly do any worse than I. I’m a sailor, Lizzie, not a cit. And you’re a sharp enough lass. You’ll do fine.” He drew a knuckle along the line of her chin and marveled again at the contrast between the infinite softness of her skin and the sharp line of her jaw.
    At his touch a slow smile blossomed across her face, warm and untutored, rising to stretch over the curve of her cheekbones, until it reached the corners of her eyes.
    Devil take it, he wanted to kiss her. Here, now, in front of her father and the rest of the world. And she knew it. The marmalade brow slid upwards, daring him. One of these days, soon, very soon, he was going to lick it.
    “Why Jamie Marlowe,” she whispered as his mouth descended, “you have grown sentimental, haven’t you?”
    Unfortunately, Lady Theodora, trailing a brace of panting, goggle-eyed spaniels, chose that moment to drift out onto the terrace in a cloud of lily-of-the-valley perfume.
    “Oh, Elizabeth, at last, there you are! Come in and sit with me so we can make arrangements. I’ve called for tea. Where are you going?”
    “To change my dress, Mama. I’m off to the rectory to get married.”
    “Married? Right now? Oh, Elizabeth, my dear, no!” A lace handkerchief fluttered out of nowhere. “We must make some preparations. How will it look? I do so hate to see you do something so rash.”
    Lizzie kissed her mother’s cheek fondly.
    “Well then, Mama, I’d advise you to close your eyes.”

C HAPTER 3
    I n the end, they prevailed upon her to wait another day. Had she only to consult her own feelings, Lizzie would have proceeded to the rectory without delay. But such haste would have