“Mine?” her voice shook. Her gaze captured his.
“Yes. You see, I practically threw my heart at you, asking—nay, begging for yours in return, and when you gave me your most precious possession, I spurned it at the first opportunity. And for that I will always be sorry. So I ask you keep my heart for the pain I’ve caused yours. I love you, Cordelia. I wish that were enough to keep you, but I see you for the woman you are. A woman who deserves a man who will nurture and provide for her, who will protect her when people slander her, a man who will—”
“Oh, stop already!” Cordelia pulled Ambrose to his feet and before he could protest, kissed him full on the mouth. “I love you… I love you.” She kissed his lips and neck, and Ambrose found he wasn’t quite in the mood to control himself either. And considering he had such a close brush with death earlier in the day, it wasn’t quite fair to point fingers. Frankly, his sluggish mind conjured up the idea that he was still somewhat foxed.
Never one to turn down an opportunity, he picked her up in his arms and laid her across the couch, covering her body with his own. Drinking in the taste of the woman he didn’t think would ever forgive him for his stupidity.
“We will be discovered,” Cordelia said between kisses and sighs.
“Oh, I hope so.” He bit her lower lip and opened her mouth, tangling his tongue with hers.
“Heavens!” Lady Trowbridge gasped at the spectacle in front of her. Ambrose could only smile smugly as Cordelia blushed to the roots of her hair.
“Yes,” Ambrose helped himself off the girl he was accosting and nodded. “We shall be married immediately.”
Lady Trowbridge opened her mouth to speak, but before anything was uttered, her eyes rolled back, and she hit the floor. Ambrose did have half a mind to catch her but was too stunned and amused, and as he realized earlier, still somewhat drunk.
“Will you?” he whispered, kissing Cordelia’s cheek.
“It appears I have no choice.” She giggled.
Ambrose grinned. “Yes, well, compromising you was plan B, just so you know. I’m not as heroic as I seem.”
“And plan C?” she asked.
“Kidnap you, of course, and if that didn’t work, I had half a mind to paint my body green in hopes that you’d think me a potted plant and stand next to me at the upcoming ball this night.”
“Ambrose!” She laughed. “Then I would have been your wallflower!”
“You still are…my wallflower. Nobody else’s.” His hungry gaze fell to her lips again. Both of them forgetting that someone lay unconscious on the floor.
“I do love foliage.” She breathed against his neck.
“Care to show me what else you love, Cordelia?” He led her back into the room and shut the door, this time locking it against intruders.
Epilogue
History Repeats Itself
“Dance with her!” Cordelia ordered her brother-in-law, poking him square in the chest with her gloved hand.
“Cordelia, you’re making a scene!” Anthony cursed and then blushed a beautiful shade of red all the way down his neck.
“I swore I would revere the day I saw my brother blush!” Ambrose applauded his wife. “Well done, my dear. Anthony looks quite put out.”
“I assure you, I am fine.” Anthony cleared his throat.
Just then Wilde approached the group. “Has he gotten the nerve yet, or are we still pressuring him to approach her?”
“Still pressuring,” Ambrose and Cordelia answered in unison. Ambrose gave his wife a wink and pulled her as close as he could without causing scandal.
As he watched Anthony look towards the girl again, a plan formed in his mind. “Say, Anthony?”
“What?” His eyes still trained on the girl by the plants.
“Would you agree that every Season, you are approached by several women for little dalliances?”
“Yes.”
“Would you also agree that you’re one of the most sought after bachelors in the ton?”
Wilde cursed. “I’ll answer that for you. Just this morning in the park a girl cried when he picked up her fallen hat.”
“Perfect.” Ambrose smiled. “Do you believe you could make any woman fall in love with you then, Anthony? Or have you lost your touch?”
“Not that it matters, but yes I do believe that.” Anthony smoothed out his jacket.
“Any girl?”
“To be certain.” Anthony still wasn’t paying much attention, but the rest of the group had caught on, including Wilde who appeared to be mumbling a prayer heavenward.
“And you’re willing to wager you could accomplish this in say… four weeks?”
“Yes.” Anthony nodded his attention back on the girl. Ah, his twin’s issue with agreeing without listening made this almost too easy.
“Shake my hand, Anthony,” Ambrose ordered.
Anthony reached out and shook his hand. Then froze. “Blast.”
Ambrose grinned. “What was that?”
“Did I just agree to a bet?”
“Yes, and guess who I’m choosing.”
Anthony closed his eyes. “I don’t want to guess. I want to go back in time and slap myself before I accepted the terms.”
“Not possible. Do you see that girl over there? The one you’ve been salivating over for the past ten minutes while you handed over your life to me on a silver platter?”
Anthony cursed in response.
“You haven’t called me that in ages!” Ambrose slapped his back. “Her. You must make her fall in love with you in four weeks’ time. Good luck!”
“Why do I feel like this is going to go terribly wrong?” Wilde muttered.
“Or,” Cordelia kissed Ambrose on the cheek. “It could go terribly right.”
“Yes… yes, it could.” Ambrose leaned down and kissed his wife full on the mouth. “After all, it’s just a bet.”
Cordelia slapped him with her reticule and giggled. “Who knows where it will lead?”
“Probably somewhere near the potted plants.” He pointed as the girl in question tried to hide behind the large plant, failing miserably.
“Saving wallflowers everywhere?” Cordelia quirked her brow.
“One plant at a time, my love.”