by Dara Joy
He better not be mauled for his trouble.
There was no telling whether a white, orange, and black spotted rug would fit in with his new bride’s preferred decor. For himself, he rather thought it would add that special something to any room he might be in.
Without hesitation he pulled the door open on the pudgy cat’s cage, grabbed the furry irritant by the scruff of his neck and yanked him out. He held him aloft at eye level.
The two stared at each other with squinty eyes.
In silence.
For several minutes.
The cat growled. Tyler growled back.
“They’re waiting on ye, Lord Devon,” Mabel called out.
Whereupon Tyler lowered the cat to the ground, and the two of them strolled into Islemoor Hall side by side.
Proving the old maxim that it took one to know one.
Chapter Eleven
They were married.
Ginny could hardly believe it! She looked down at the plain gold band Tyler had placed on her finger not more than an hour ago. It had all happened so fast.
She recalled being ushered into Islemoor Hall and a brief glimpse of an immense grand foyer before being led into a side parlor. The Duke thought Ginny might like to freshen up after the long coach ride, perhaps change her clothes. She had wanted to, but Tyler had insisted they get on with the ceremony.
Ginny attempted to tell him of the wedding gown Mabel had found in the attic. Her mother’s dress.
Mabel had carefully pressed it, and Ginny had lovingly held it to herself in front of the mirror. Yet, when Lord Devon gazed down at her silently from his great height with that stony expression in his pastel eyes, she found she could not get the request out.
He would think her silly and sentimental.
After all, theirs was nothing more than an arrangement.
He might think it peculiar that she wanted to wear her mother’s bridal gown.
So she said nothing, and quietly acquiesced to the immediate ceremony. Mabel bristled at his cavalier behavior, but for once held her tongue.
A local parson had performed the ceremony.
There was some disruption when Ginny insisted that Henley, not Jediah, give her away. In the end, her uncle had no choice but to stand down. It was a solemn Lord Henry who stood by her side until the very end.
The Duke surprised everyone by graciously offering to give Ginny his departed wife’s sapphire and diamond ring for the ceremony. The very one he had given his Duchess when they had married. Obviously, the old man assumed his wastrel grandson would not arrange for a ring.
Before Ginny could respond, Tyler hissed out a cold refusal. Retrieving a ring from his waistcoat pocket, he grabbed Ginny’s hand, and roughly placed a plain gold band on her finger.
Not understanding Tyler’s actions, Ginny contemplated the ring with quiet fascination. It was an unusual choice.
Beautiful in its simplicity. It was the kind of ring only someone who truly knew her would get. It was perfect.
She glimpsed up at him, flashing him a breathtaking smile.
Tyler sucked in his breath. At that moment, he discovered he rather liked when she smiled at him. He didn’t know why, yet for some reason, his little wife actually liked the unadorned ring he had given her.
He liked it as well. While it was true he had to give her something plain due to his supposed lack of wealth, he had specifically chosen the ring for its perfect simplicity.
The service ended with Tyler electing to kiss his bride on the forehead.
Henley was still sniffling when Lord Devon announced that he and his bride would be leaving straightaway for his townhouse in Grosvenor Square.
Everyone objected at once to this bit of news.
Jediah thought they would spend the night at Islemoor Hall. He was certainly looking forward to being sumptuously entertained. Henley and Mabel were concerned for Ginny, saying the additional trip to London would be too tiring for her.
The Duke unequivocally stated they should remain at Islemoor Hall.
Tyler firmly held his ground.
Taking an exhausted Ginny by the hand, he led her outside to his coach.
“A moment, Lord Devon.” Lord Henry confronted Tyler.
Tyler regarded the weepy fop with a faintly amused expression. “Yes, Henry?”
Henley drew himself up, puffing out his bony chest.
“I want you to know I shall be stopping by to visit with Ginny in a few days.”
Tyler said nothing, just raised a black eyebrow.
Henley continued on, his high voice gradually gaining in pitch with his nervousness. “I- I trust she w- will be in g- good health.”
Well, I’ll be damned, Tyler mused. The fop genuinely cares about her. So much for curtailing the Duo’s visits.
Leave it to Ginny to have two fops as champions. He nodded curtly. “As you will, Lord Henry.”
He again turned to leave with Ginny in tow.
Mabel quickly trailed after them.
“I’ll be comin’ wit’ ye, m’lord.”
Tyler stopped short on the stairs to face the servant, marveling at the loyalty this girl inspired. “That won’t be necessary. You and–” He visibly winced, “Charles may come in the morning.”
Mabel stood her ground. “I’ll not be leaving me little girl now.”
“Your little girl is now my wife.” This time Lord Devon‘s tone was utterly implacable.
They locked eyes for a moment and Ginny thought some silent battle appeared to be going on between the two of them. She knew who the victor was when Mabel slumped her shoulders.
“Aye, that she is, my lord.” Mabel crossed her arms over her ample bosom. “No doubt you’ll be explaining it to her.”
A brief smile flashed across his handsome face. “No doubt I will.”
Mabel grinned cheekily at him. “I never thought elsewise, m’lord. Y’ are a right fine taste of the devil, ain’t ye?”
Tyler roundly winked at the older woman. As he led a questioning Ginny away, he said over his shoulder, “Have no fear Mabel, I shall not be explaining too much this evening.”
Mabel’s knowing chuckle followed them down the stairs.
Ginny dug her heels in, refusing to enter the carriage.
“What was that about?”
Lord Devon scooped her up in his arms and, placing her on the seat beside him, motioned to the driver to go.
Turning to her, he innocently replied, “Mabel wanted me to explain to you the duties of a lord’s wife. I simply told her I probably would wait before indoctrinating you into the role.”
Ginny was perplexed. “You mean I shall be expected to-to entertain and such?”
Tyler answered her with a roguish grin.
“It’s more about the ‘and such’, love. Ask anyone.”
* * *
The ride to London was a long one.
Already exhausted, both physically and emotionally, Ginny felt her eyelids closing with the monotonous sway of the carriage as it lulled her to sleep. She hardly protested when Tyler lifted her onto his lap, covering them both with a lap robe. The night was a damp and chilly one; the warmth of his arms soon lulled her into a deep sleep.
Tyler relaxed as Ginny nestled into him.
He knew she was exhausted after the long day and ceremony, but he refused to spend the first night of his marriage under the same roof as his grandfather. The thought of this innocent girl coming under the sphere of his evil influence sickened him.
Already at the back of Tyler’s mind was the Duke’s threat to take his first son from him. He knew the crafty old goat would not separate the child from its mother–
so he supposed his grandfather would attempt to take Ginny from him as well.
Maybe after the birth of his child, the bastard intended to kill him off?
He wouldn’t put it past him. Men who wielded that kind of power often did not consider themselves bound by a morality they considered only for the masses.
There was more than one kind of outlaw.
Some robbed with a pistol or a sword. At least they were honest about being thieves. But, the one who sits behind a desk and commits skullduggery with a plume... Well, there was the man to worry most about.
Unconsciously, Tyler stroked Ginny’s back. He’ll not take another bloody thing from me, he vowed. His arms came around Ginny in a possessive grip. Least of all my wife. The Duke unwittingly gave her to me, and I intend to protect her in spite of it.
It was the Duke’s first mistake as far as Tyler was concerned.
Ginny was no duty to him but a gift he could come to treasure. Like him, she had suffered, but she would not suffer because of him. Lord knew he had few principles left in his sordid life.
He was shocked to discover a scrap of decency still clinging to his corrupted hide.
By a thread.
When the coach arrived at the townhouse, Ginny was still sound asleep in the protective custody of his arms. He carried her inside the house, instructing his butler, Pratt, to make up the room adjoining his for Lady Devon.
If the butler was surprised that his wayward master had returned home with a new wife in tow, he didn’t show it. Pratt was a very astute man and rarely questioned his lordship. The fact that Lord Devon had never brought a woman home before did not concern him. If he suspected certain truths about Tyler Devon, he never let on. He was paid to do a particular job, and he did it well. In the tradition of all great English butlers, Pratt gave his complete allegiance and loyalty to his master.
Tyler carried Ginny to his own room while hers was being made up. Gently depositing her on his bed, he briefly entertained the idea of leaving her there.
He observed her lying on top of the counterpane from under lowered lids. The entire time he stood by the bed, he tried to convince himself it would be better to wait. So much better.
His gaze traveled unerringly to the pouting raspberry lips. Lips that seemed to be innocently waiting for the tender press of his own. He almost groaned aloud.
God’s teeth, he never claimed to be a saint.
To hell with it.
He was just leaning over her when she drowsily opened her eyes and smiled up at him with a sweet and trusting expression. Tyler paused, then cursed under his breath.
Bloody hell, he couldn’t do it!
Not with her looking at him like that.
Ginny yawned rather loudly, sitting up to stretch her arms over her head. “I’m sorry I fell asleep on you, Tyler. I really should have kept you company on the long drive.”
She was apologizing to him. Tyler looked away feeling strangely guilty. Damn and Blast, who ever heard of a guilty rake!
“Am I in my room?” Ginny peered through the darkness to the room beyond the bed curtains, observing the masculine decor.
“No. My butler Pratt is preparing your room. It should just be a few minutes. Would you like some refreshment while we wait?”
“Thank you, no. I’m still rather tired.” She gazed pensively at the surroundings. It felt peculiar to be in a man’s bedroom. Especially this man’s. The infamous womanizer Lord Devon. Her hand fell to the soft coverlet on the bed, idly stroking it. How many other women had he brought here?
Tyler’s glance fell to her hand on his bed. He considered her fingers lightly gliding across the silk sheets highly provocative. Unwarranted, he felt himself stirring as a tremor of desire trickled through him.
In an effort to stop her unconsciously seductive gesture, Tyler sat on the bed and placed his hand over hers.
It was a mistake.
The sensation of her tender hand under his rocked him. He automatically closed his fingers about hers, bringing their entwined hands up to his heart. His other hand lightly skimmed along her forearm.
Ginny trembled at the forward caress. What was the man doing? Why had his eyes become so bright, his voice so husky?
“Ginny, love, I know we said certain–”
A knock at the door interrupted his words. With an exasperated expletive, he released her, his voice brusque with annoyance. “Yes, what is it?”
Pratt’s muffled voice came through the door. “Her ladyship’s room is ready, my lord.”
“Thank you, Pratt. I’ll see to it. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, my lord.”
Tyler shrugged off the untimely interruption with good grace. It was just as well; it wouldn’t do for him to terrorize the poor girl the first night in her new home. Besides, his original plan was the best. She needed time that much was obvious. He’d wager the chit had no idea how close she had just come to being thoroughly seduced.
Convinced for the moment that he was following the right course, Tyler abruptly stood, showing her the door to the adjoining room before he changed his mind.
* * *
Mabel and Charles arrived bright and early the next morning.
Charles made sure to let everyone in the household know he was now in residence. His first patrol of the house was conducted with a condescending nose in the air and a chubby sway of the backside.
When Mabel opened the bed curtains to let in the day’s sunshine, she was very relieved to see that his lordship had kept his word. Ginny was alone in the big bed.
“Rise and shine, me girl. Are ye going ta lie abed all day?”
Ginny felt something heavy bounce on the bed, then heard a whirring sound coming closer and closer to her face. Scraggly whiskers tickled her chin.
“Charles, don’t.”
She muttered the same thing every morning to the obstinate cat. Every morning Charles ignored her words, rubbing his face right into her neck.
“Very well. Very well– I’m up!” Sitting up, she pushed her tangled hair out of her eyes.
“I’ve unpacked all yer things already. Go on wit’ ye and get dressed. In the mean time I’ll go tell that fancy french cook he’s got ta fix ye somethin’ decent and English to eat. Don’t tarry too long or chances are that cook will get in a snit. He’s just the type that one. Why, I–”
“Mabel, where did you put Reggie’s clothes? It wouldn’t do to have anyone in the house find them.”
“Wot? Oh, them things. I put them under the bed in a box. T’would be best for ye, miss, to forget they’s there.”
“Don’t be silly, nothing’s changed. I still plan on meeting Henley at Frock’s whenever I can.”
“Nothing good will come o’ it, mark me words. Yer husband won’t be liking his bride going about dressed as a man.”
“Well there’s nothing he can do about it.”
Mabel snorted. “That one? He’ll do as he pleases.
Don’t ye be thinkin’ otherwise. I can tell by the look o’
him he’s no man ye can twist to ye liking. And right handsome he is too, into the bargain.”
Ginny flushed. “That’s how much you know, Mabel.
Lord Devon does whatever I tell him to.” Sort of.
“Besides, he won’t be finding out about Reggie so we don’t have to worry about it.”
“As ye say, miss.” Mabel shook her head as she left the room closing the door behind her.
Ginny jumped off the bed eliciting a protest from Charles. He undoubtedly thought they might have a nice little nap together.
“Shh!” She scratched behind his ears. “I have to check something; please, be quiet for a few minutes.” She threw up the dust ruffle on the bed, crawling halfway underneath to sort out the contents of the box. Everything seemed to be there.
* * *
Tyler opened the connecting door to Ginny’s room only to be confronted with the sight of a luscious derriere thrusting out from under the bed.
It was bobbing amid the bed ruffles.
A broad grin etched across his rugged face. He’d know that backside anywhere.
He paused for a second to admire the view, letting it sink slowly and fully into his mind for later replaying.
What was she doing under there anyway?
Leaning against the door fr
ame, he crossed his arms over his chest to assess the situation at hand. His wife had one beautiful bottom. He cleared his throat, loudly.
“Ahem.”
Ginny banged her head on the bedboard. “Ow!”
Tyler grinned broadly. “What are you doing under there?”
She quickly scrabbled out from under the bed, rubbing at the sore spot on her head. “What are you doing out here?”
He walked over to her, skimming her attire. Corset and chemise. Again. Was this a favorite secret uniform of hers?
If so, he was all for it. “I asked you first, Lady Corset.”
“Don’t call me that. I– I was looking for Charles.”
Meow came from the bed.
Tyler looked at her skeptically. “One might try the top of the mattress before the underside.”
Directly on cue Charles jumped off the bed, scooting underneath it.
Tyler chuckled. “Supposing that miscreant wanted to be found, of course.”
Ginny silently thanked her cat for corroborating her story.
“So what did you enter my room for– without knocking?”
Tyler ignored the criticism. He’d come into this room any damn time he felt like it. Without knocking. If she thought he was a man who asked permission for anything, she had wrongly assessed him.
He walked purposely around her. His hot breath caressed her neck as his smooth, low voice tickled her ear.
“Would you care to go riding with me this morning?”
Her nerve endings sizzled from ear to toe. “Riding?”
Her voice cracked.
“Yes.” His arms came around her from behind, drawing her back to him. “After all, you have assured me you are such a good mount.” The languorous suggestion played havoc with her pulse. He was teasing her in some way again... What was the rogue insinuating?
Whatever it was, she didn’t care much for it. She attempted to unclasp his strong hands from her waist.
He ignored her efforts, pulling her close to him.
His head dipped; velvety lips nuzzled lightly at her throat.