Edith stood before Anthony, nervously awaiting his response. An eternity had passed, at least that's how it seemed to the strawberry blonde, and still he'd said nothing. Suddenly, she regretted having acted so foolishly. Anthony, though, was simply rendered speechless by the fact that this charming young woman standing before him wanted to marry, and right away. His eyes traveled down her slender frame and he forced himself not to laugh at her disheveled appearance. The poor thing was covered in mud, hair askew, dress creased and crumpled, and yet, he'd never thought her more lovely. The tall blond was chuffed. Edith was brave, beautiful, spontaneous, and, most of all, for reasons he didn't entirely understand, she wanted him, Anthony Strallan. If he were a peacock, he'd puff out his chest, spread his feathers, and strut about the room. He let out a short bark of laughter at the ridiculousness of such a thought.

Edith had been watching the baronet closely, trying to gauge his reaction and she'd seen the wide grin that crossed his face before he'd burst out laughing. He was going to refuse her, of that she was certain. The strawberry blonde wracked her brain, desperately trying to think of a way to convince Anthony to say yes. "You... you suggested... a... a secret proposal," she stammered, "perhaps, we could have a secret marriage instead. I... I could go to London... visit Aunt Rosamund for a few days. Then, once you'd made the arrangements, you could call on me and we'd go to the registry office. No one need know..."

Anthony's bright smile faded to a thin grim line of, was that anger, disappointment, Edith wasn't sure. Oh. lord, she thought, he doesn't want to get married under any circumstances. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, turning from him "I should leave." He grasped her wrist, "Where are you going?"

"Obviously," she tried to wrench herself free from Anthony's grip, but the tall blond held on tight, "my suggestion was a mistake, so..."

"Why would you think that?"

"Well, you've said nothing. Apparently, you can't even bring yourself to answer no, much less, yes."

"Alright then, no!"

"No," Edith's voice quivered, "no, what?"

"No, we'll not marry in secret. Has I told you, a secret engagement was so that we would not be bombarded with chaperones. Marriage is an entirely different matter. Has man and wife, we've the right to come and go and do as we please. We're free to pursue a deeper understanding of those things we already know about each other, and," his voice dropped to a low tone that made Edith weak in the knees, "completely free to indulge in the more personal aspects of our relationship." Her legs buckling, Edith collapsed onto the sofa behind her. Anthony came to sit beside her, and not at the respectable distance he usually maintained but with his knees brushing against hers and his arm around her shoulder. He leaned in, his breath warm against her earlobe, "So, to answer your question, yes, I'll arrange for a special license and we'll marry right away," he whispered, "but not in secret." His arm tightened around her shoulders and, with his other hand, he tilted her face up to his. "I think this decision warrants a kiss, don't you?" he asked huskily.

"Yes!" Edith squeaked, wincing at the high pitch of her voice.

Slowly, Anthony feathered kisses beneath her ear, along her jawline, and to the corner of her mouth before claiming her lips. His other hand which had, at some point, dropped to her hip, was now working it's way slowly upwards. Under normal circumstances, upon hearing Edith moan, the baronet would have ceased his ministrations, but now, knowing that in a few days they were to be married, he allowed himself a bit of leeway. Grazing the top of her bosom, he paused, was she not? He gave a gentle squeeze, no, she most certainly wasn't. Quickly, his hand skirted up to dip below the neckline of her dress, finding that only the thin cotton material of her undergarment separated his eager fingers from the warmth of her bare breasts.

"Edith," he whispered hoarsely, "not that I'm all that familiar with the latest in women's fashion but I thought...don't women still wear corsets?"

"Of course, we do, silly, but I took mine off before coming to see you." At the jolt of lust that shot through his body, Anthony groaned, leaning into her with his body and pressing her further down into the cushions.

"It would have been a bit difficult," the strawberry blonde giggled, "traipsing across two estates while wearing such a confining garment."

"You came through the woods?" The baronet laughed, "I wondered why you'd arrived in such a of disarray."

"Yes, well, I didn't exactly take the time to plan this little excursion of mine. If I had, I would have worn my riding clothes and boots."

"I'm certainly glad you didn't because then I wouldn't have been able to do this." His hand trailed slowly back down to her hip, brushing gently along her thigh and then down and under the hem of her dress. He paused momentarily before skimming his fingers up over her calf and gripping firmly at the bend of her knee.

"An... Anth... Anthony," Edith whimpered.

"Hmmm," he murmurmed, nipping at her collar bone, "yes?"

"If... If you want...you can have me."

Anthony gave a low growl, very much tempted by the strawberry blonde's offer, but, after a few quick thrusts of his hips against her, he pulled away, leaving the young woman feeling suddenly cold and ashamed. "I didn't mean to ruin the mood," she apologized, "you must think me terribly wanton."

"Yes," the baronet gave a crooked grin, "and terribly spontaneous as well." He paused for a moment as though thinking over an important matter, "spontaneous and wanton, two of your most admirable qualities," he teased.

"Oh, stop it," Edith blushed, swatting at his shoulder.

"Perhaps, when we're married, that's how I shall introduce you, Pardon me, but have you met my wife, Lady Strallan, she's quite spontaneous and," he lowered his voice and raised his eyebrow in a suggestive manner, "wanton."

"You wouldn't!" the strawberry blonde shrieked.

"I seem to recall you mentioning something about hidden layers," he chuckled. "Come," he said, pushing himself up, "I must get you home before it gets any later."

"Wouldn't you like to kiss me for just a bit longer?"

"My sweet, I assure you, there's nothing I would enjoy more."

"Then I don't see ..."

"Edith, if you must know, I intend to speak with your father, to ask for your hand in marriage, but if you and I lie there," he motioned towards the sofa, "kissing each other for much longer, I fear that rather than asking for permission, I'll be informing him that we have to marry."