Married By May

course, for the brood they would have.
She could be happy, he knew, in that quiet, bucolic, tiny corner of the world.
“I hope to,” he answered honestly. “One day.”
Because he was watching her so closely, he noticed the sudden tilt of her chin and the squaring of her shoulders.
She took a deep breath then turned slightly so she was fully facing him.
“And do you hope to go there alone. Or—” Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, and he had to force himself not to react to the innocently provocative action. “Or do you imagine that you’ll have someone with you?”
Ewan’s heart stopped.
He wasn’t an idiot. He knew what she was asking.
So, what did he do now? Break her heart? Lead her on?
Before he could decide, however, he felt her suddenly throw herself against him and once more, he found himself being thoroughly kissed.

Chapter Ten
For an awful moment, Bea didn’t think that Ewan would respond to her clumsy attempt to kiss him.
This hadn’t been the plan.
When she’d discussed the evening with Natalia, there’d been no mention of throwing herself at him like a wanton, for example.
But something was wrong.
Bea could tell that Ewan’s mind was elsewhere, and she needed to know if she’d made a colossal mistake. If she’d thought he cared for her when he didn’t.
And in the first moment when her lips met his, her fears seemed founded in truth.
He froze, his whole body becoming a statue, and Beatrice’s heart stopped with dread.
She was about to pull away and run inside when he groaned as though he were in pain before suddenly his arms were around her in a vice-like grip and she was caught in a maelstrom.
This kiss was nothing like the one before. There was a desperation to it, a lack of control that wasn't present in the last one.
Beatrice was overwhelmed as sensation after sensation rocked her to her core.
His lips crushed hers, his tongue demanded entrance to her mouth, and she couldn’t stifle the moan of need as he awoke in her a strength of desire she didn’t know she possessed.
Good lord, how did people embrace like this and not expire from the emotion it invoked?
Ewan wrenched his lips from hers, bending to trail hot, desperate kisses along her jaw and down the smooth column of her neck to her rapidly beating pulse.
Her whole body was shivering, but she felt as though she were burning alive, her very blood engulfed in flames.
Beatrice clung to him for dear life, worried that she would wind up a puddle at his feet.
But she need not have feared, for his arms pulled her closer still before lifting her clean off her feet as his mouth once more descended to hers.
She could stay like this forever.
How could she ever have doubted his feelings? He couldn’t hold her like this, kiss her like this unless he loved her as much as she loved him.
And suddenly, Beatrice couldn’t wait to tell him. She was sure they would marry. She would travel to Scotland with him and meet his family. She would travel to India and see the home he’d made there and the business ventures he’d built.
Beatrice pulled her lips from his so she could look into his eyes.
He looked tormented, tortured. But it could only be because he was as swept away by the strength of his feelings as she.
“Ewan—” She could hear the raw, gravelly tone in her voice, but she didn’t care. Gathering her courage in both hands, she looked straight into his deep, blue eyes. “I love you.”
Her words seemed to freeze the air around them.
How long they stood thus, staring at each other, Beatrice didn’t know.
But the longer he stayed silent, the more her ardour cooled, and an insidious fear began to creep into her heart.
He hadn’t said it back.
He wasn’t saying anything.
“Ewan,” she prompted softly, fear making her voice wobble.
That one little entreaty was enough to jolt him into action.
He released her and stepped back as though she’d burnt him alive.
“Ewan, what—“
“I’m sorry,” he blurted, and she could only stare at him as her stomach dropped with dread. “I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry?” She was confused and suddenly frightened, and even she could hear the edge of hysteria starting to creep into her voice now. “What for?”
“Nicely done, Cousin. Though I would have appreciated a signal of some sort. I didn’t even have time to gather a crowd.”
Beatrice spun around to see Sir Edmund standing there with the most awful smirk on his face.
She turned back to Ewan in confusion but instead of looking as baffled as she, he looked stricken.
What on earth was going on?
“Edmund, get the hell out of here.”
“And miss the show? I think not.”
Beatrice’s cheeks scalded as she realised that Sir Edmund must have seen them.
Only minutes ago that wouldn’t have bothered her. After all, they were headed for a betrothal anyway. Or so she’d thought.
But now. Now, she didn’t know what to think.
Her stomach started to roil, and her palms began to sweat.
She suddenly knew that she was in the middle of something she didn’t understand.
“I told you that I wasn’t going to do this.” Ewan spoke over her head as if she wasn’t even there.
“Well, it looked as though you were doing it from where I’m standing. Now, do you want to tell the lady what it is you’re up to, or shall I?”
“What the hell are you doing, Edmund?” Ewan suddenly snapped, and Bea felt a sliver of fear at the cold hatred in his eyes. He looked as though he could murder Sir Edmund with his bare hands. “This doesn’t fit in with your grand plans.”
He spat the words as though they were the vilest of curses.
Beatrice began to shiver again but unlike last time when she was in the throes of desire, now she felt sick and inexplicably afraid.
The sudden arrival of Natalia and Ben only added to her distress.
“No, it doesn’t.” Sir Edmund spoke as though it were just he and Ewan on