After he returned home, he wrote a missive to Tricia and then set about reviewing the documents that had arrived concerning Chloe’s estate. She was quite well off and brought an ample dowry for him as well as an independent income for herself. Though he’d built his estate up a great deal, much of it was still entailed. He’d set about purchasing more assets, but it was a relief to know she’d be cared for if anything happened to him.
He’d wanted her to have the house as well. And though he’d hated to see her aunt get it, he couldn’t help but admire Chloe’s kind and forgiving heart. That feeling returned. Of wanting to press against her while she stroked his hair. By God, he’d have to impregnate her quickly. The more time he spent with her, the harder it was to resist her charms.
He dropped his head into his hands. He had to resist.
“For a man about to marry, you look rather glum.” Landon stood in his door.
Dryden lifting his head, a small smile touching his lips. “They just let you in here now?” But he rose and came about the desk to shake Ryker’s hand. Lord Ryker Landon, the Duke of Landon, was like a brother to Fin. He’d give his life for the man.
“I am family, Fenton.” Landon answered, taking a seat next to the fire. “Tricia sent me. I couldn’t give you the opportunity to send me away without speaking to you.”
He sat on the other side of the fire. “I’ve told you a thousand times, it’s Fin if we’re going to be familiar. Only Tricia calls me Fenton and I only allow it because I can’t say ‘no’ to her ever.” She’d never uttered a cross word to him in his life and she’d risked her life to pull him out of the hell hole he’d crawled into to die.
“Oh good. She wants you to bring your fiancée for dinner tomorrow night. In terms of saying no, that makes two of us. What is it about that woman that keeps me so tied up?” But Ryker grinned like an idiot. Five years after he’d said his vows and he clearly still loved his wife.
“If you figure it out, let me know. I seemed to have resigned myself to the same fate. I’m fairly certain Chloe could tell me to toss myself in a fire and I’d do it.” He was surprised how easy it was to say those words. Warmth filled his insides at the thought of Chloe traipsing about his house, telling him what he should and shouldn’t do.
“Ah. So you’re in love?” Ryker’s grin broadened.
But Fin give a stiff shake to his head. He couldn’t allow that level of feeling into his life. “No. I’m not.”
Ryker turned his head to the side, studying him. “Would you care to explain?”
“Not particularly,” he answered. Then he let out a long breath. “I was never the warmest man. And after opium, it was months before I felt connected to anything at all. I don’t have enough to give and I could swallow all her—” He didn’t want to explain his deepest fear. He was a void that would eat her up.
“Does she care for you?” Ryker fiddled with the cuff of his shirt, clearly trying to give Fin space to answer.
Fin shook his head. “I’m not sure. I think she has some affection for me but I also near trapped her into this marriage.”
“Trapped by an earl?” He gave his cuff a good tug. “Is that even possible?”
“Trapped by a half man,” he answered staring down at his own hands.
“Ah,” Ryker said. “I must confess to you, that while I didn’t have your colorful past, I felt much the same. But, what I know now is that we are all only half. We never give them whole, it’s them, the women that love us, that complete us.”
His forehead creased. That sounded so lovely but there was a catch. “What if she never loves me in return?”
“They don’t call it falling for nothing. It takes a leap of faith.” Ryker leaned forward. “I know you must feel like you lost that long ago, but one thing Tricia taught me is that the right woman can make you see the world with fresh eyes and she can bring all kinds of emotions back into your life that you thought you’d lost. Don’t give up just yet.”
Fin stared into the fire. Give up? Ryker’s words implied he had tried to win Chloe’s affection.
Chapter Eleven
Chloe sat in the morning room at Annabelle’s home, staring out the window. The dark, cold sky matched her mood perfectly. She should likely be planning the details of the wedding, but she wasn’t sure how to start. She didn’t even know where it was to take place, though she was certain it wouldn’t be at her friend’s. She was a guest who hadn’t even seen her host, Annabelle’s father.
Her temple throbbed and she lifted her hands to rub her head. Her confrontation with her aunt the day before and Fin’s subsequent announcement that they would marry had kept her up half the night. This was a mad plan that made her insides churn with unease.
Breakfast would be served soon enough, and Annabelle would join her. Perhaps then, she could put her thoughts into proper order.
The butler entered the room and Chloe rose, hoping he had come to summon her to the morning meal but instead he held a tray with a note.
Unfolding the parchment, she scanned the contents of the hastily scrolled words. She’d been summoned to dinner with Fin’s family tomorrow night. Her stomach gave a wild pitch. How could she meet his family tomorrow? She’d no time to prepare. Social engagements were not exactly her strength. And what would she say? Obviously I am ill-equipped to be a countess, but I’ve allowed Fin to ruin me so you’re all stuck with me.
“Is breakfast ready?” she asked the butler, sitting straighter.
He gestured with his hand. “Yes, miss.”
“Excellent.” She’d eat a quick bite and then either hire a hack or borrow a carriage. She needed to have a private conversation with Fin.
An hour later, she set out, trying to plan what she might say. Was she going to convince him not to marry her? No one knew of their time in the garden, save for her aunt. Did she object to his plan of leading separate lives after she’d conceived? Until she’d met him, freedom had been what she’d wanted. Did she simply want more information about this dinner? She needed time to prepare. Know who she was meeting and why she was meeting them. She pressed her fingers to her forehead.
Annabelle had offered to come with her. But there were things that needed to be discussed privately. Her eyes fluttered closed. If she didn’t marry now, she’d be ruined. Her aunt would get all her inheritance and Chloe would have to find some means of supporting herself.
What a mess.
The carriage pulled up to a stately looking home with a large iron gate. Within, she caught glimpses of well-trimmed gardens and a large stone porch adorning the front. This was Fin’s home? The man who’d near died in an opium den?
Stepping out of the carriage, she made her way up the front steps and raised the large iron knocker. She’d never been to a man’s home alone, and most definitely not uninvited. At least today, she was wearing her own gown, having removed her clothing from her aunt’s house.
A butler answered the door, his face set in a frown. Or was she imagining that?
“May I help you?” he asked.
“Yes. Miss Chloe Finch. Here to see the Earl of Dryden.”
His expression didn’t waver as he stepped back. “Do you have an appointment?”
“No,” she said as she stepped inside. A light snow had begun to fall and she resisted the urge to brush off her pelisse and hat. She’d leave water all over the marble floor.
“Right this way.” The man gestured toward a sitting room. “I’ll tell his lordship that you’re here.”
She tilted her head and several puffs of snow fell from her hat. They both watched them splat onto the floor. “Thank you.”
“Shall I take your coat and hat, Miss Finch?”
She relaxed as she unpinned the hat. At least the man expected her to say long enough to need to remove her coat. She’d had this sudden fear that she’d be turned away. Looking about again, she knew why. She didn’t belong here. Every detail of the house was perfectly groomed. Not a bit of dust marred the gold fixtures and the maho
gany wood gleamed with fresh polish. She was far too imperfect for such beauty.
Chloe crossed the room and stood by the fire, holding out her hands. She picked a gown that looked lovely but wasn’t the best choice with the cold snow. Rubbing her arms, she stood closer to the fire.
“You’re frozen,” Fin rumbled behind her.
Before she’d even turned, his heavy, delightfully heated coat landed on her shoulders. “Oh, that is heavenly. I got wet coming from the carriage.” She pulled the coat tighter. How had he ever managed to get the coat that warm to begin with? The man must have a fire inside.
“We’ll have to get you some heavier dresses. That one isn’t fit for this weather.” His hands slipped around her waist even as she turned to find his face just inches from hers.
Her breath caught as she looked up at him. “Fin,” his name caught in her throat. “It isn’t too late to cancel the wedding.”
His hands stilled. “You want to cancel?”
To her complete surprise, his face tightened a muscle in his jaw clenching. Had she hurt his pride?
“For your sake, maybe. I meant what I said. I’m a terrible choice for your countess.”
His face relaxed and his shoulders lowered down a notch. “I disagree.”
“I can’t talk to people I don’t know well, I’m not a lady, and I have no real family considering how I left relations with my aunt. I can’t think of a worse choice for you than me.” He turned her around and then fit her snuggly against him. Her body heated, a flush climbing up her neck and warming her face as her breath hitched. Who was she fooling? At this moment, she didn’t want to be anywhere else.
He fit her head against his chest. “I appreciate your concern.” His voice vibrated through her body. “You’ve come here unattended, sweetheart. What other choice is there really?”
She shook her head against him, the rich smell of his clothing wrapping about her. He smelled of cigar, and horse, and something so masculine and rich. “I could take myself out of the country. Find an occupation. I don’t know.”
“Ruined?” He cradled her neck and tilted her head back. “Or a countess. How will you decide?”
Chloe wet her lips, a tension she couldn’t explain passing between them. She stared up at him. “I choose you.” Then her tongue darted out to lick her lips again and he followed the path of her tongue with his eyes. “But you don’t have to choose me. I’m trying to give you permission not to choose me.”
“Thank you for that.” He followed the path of her tongue. “But I choose you too.”
“Oh,” she said as he dipped his head lower. His lips touched hers in a gentle brush that made her insides ignite. So odd for such a small touch. But she didn’t think on it further as he did it again and then again, each touch lasting longer than the one before it.
Her head swam and her knees grew weak as she grasped at his shirt to stay standing. As he pressed his lips to hers again, he slanted her mouth open and gently probed his tongue between her teeth, touching the tip of hers.
An ache throbbed between her legs and her knees threatened to give as a breathy moan escaped into his mouth.
He lifted her, bringing their bodies even closer and taking the weight off her knees. He didn’t stop kissing her and she only dimly noted when they sat, her legs falling off one side of his as their torsos pressed tighter. His tongue and lips created a rhythm that was building inside her. A frantic hunger that threatened to consume her entirely.
He slowed the kiss and then pulled back. “Still cold?”
“I’ve forgotten what cold even feels like,” she murmured. She wanted to lean in and kiss him again. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt.
He chuckled as he kissed her cheek, her nose. “Anything else you wish to discuss?”
She blinked. “I’ve forgotten all of it. Did you do that on purpose?”
He full-out laughed and Chloe blinked. Had she heard him laugh before today? He had a lovely sounding laugh. It changed him. Made him brighter. He smiled down at her where she was practically cradled against him. “I did not but I will remember that for when we’re married.”
Married. “Oh yes, now I remember. Wedding preparations. I need to make some, but I haven’t the first clue about our wedding.”
One of his eyebrows rose. “Shall I kiss you again?” Then he winked. “I jest. You’re right. We should make some plans. I thought we’d hold the ceremony and breakfast here if that’s amenable to you.”
“It’s beautiful.” She looked around, her mouth turning down.
“You don’t look like you think it’s beautiful.” And then he nuzzled his nose just behind her ear.
A shimmering ache travelled down her body, settling in her core. Her eyes fluttered closed. She hadn’t imagined him like this. Together right now, many of her worries disappeared. “It’s so fancy. I thought you’d had financial difficulties.”
He whispered his answer. “I did. I don’t any longer. This house was entailed, and it takes a great deal of money to keep it looking like this.” Then he pulled back studying her features. “Perhaps we could put up some Christmastide decorations to make it more welcoming. I know the holiday is still a week out, but it might do the trick.”
She sat up in his lap. “What a wonderful idea.” How was this man so in tune with her? “We could have ivory linens with red ribbons and…” Then she stopped because she’d remembered her other fear. His family. “Who exactly are we inviting?”
“Your friends and, for propriety’s sake, your aunt. I don’t like large gatherings so my only family not spending the holiday in the country is my cousin, Tricia, and her husband. I’m sure it’s only because she was concerned about me being alone. She rescued me when I would have died, and I couldn’t get married without her.”
“Is she who invited us for dinner?” Nerves began to make her stomach ache again.
“Yes.” Then he kissed her again. The touch was soft and sweet, and it made her heart fill. “But try not to worry. She’ll love you.“
It was hard to worry now, tucked in his lap, with soft comforting kisses. But later, she most certainly would worry. A great deal, in all likelihood.
Fin tried to remember when he’d had a more pleasant day. He and Chloe had chosen a menu for their wedding, picked from his vast collection of linens and plates for the table setting, and then wrote out invitations for their small guest list.
The only challenge had been to keep his hands to himself. He wanted to kiss her again. Hell, he wanted to pull her naked body against his. But their courtship had been unconventional enough, he’d save her deflowering for after the wedding. At least that’s what he had to keep repeating to himself as he stared at her writing on the other side of his desk.
He needed to get her back to Annabelle’s before he did something less than honorable. Again.
“Many of your trunks arrived last night and this morning. Shall we have a look and pick what you might wear for tomorrow night’s dinner or the wedding?” he asked, just trying to stay focused on anything other than how beautiful she was.
But dresses were a mistake. First because the trunks had been placed in the suite next to his. And as they entered the room, she stopped and stared. “This will be my room?”
“Do you like it?” It was on the tip of his tongue to offer to redecorate. Of course she would at some point. But like the Christmastide decorations, he had the overwhelming urge to make her happy. If she were happy, then she might feel for him the way he felt about her. How did he feel? Was Landon correct and he was falling in love? He closed his eyes. What was happening?
“It’s beautiful,” she gushed, spinning in a circle. “I absolutely love it.”
Relief flooded his body, making his shoulders hunch until she crossed the room to her trunks and began pulling out various dresses. Watching her as she picked up different silks, tulles, and taffeta, the fabric draped across her, his body tightened as she bent over the bed studying ensembles. She was so lovely.
“For the wedding, I shan’t tell you. It will be a surprise. For dinner with a duchess and duke, I’m not sure how I could possibly have anything nice enough.”
“The red silk,” he said as he crossed the room to stand next to her. “It’s perfect.” His voice dropped an octave, and he pictured the dress pooling at her bare feet. He brushed the sinful image away.
Her fingers brushed the fabric, a delicate touch that set his body to flame. “You think so?”
He cleared his throat and took a step back. He’d behave. “I do. I’ll send a servant to help you pack up this dress and whichever dress you’re wearing for the wedding and then I will escort you to Annabelle’s. It’s getting late.”
Then he turned and headed for the door. Fantasies of laying her in that pile of lace and silk made him hurry for the exit. He only had to last a few days. Then she’d be his. And he’d find a way to make her happy. At least for now. He’d promised her she could live her own life. Once he’d touched her, held her, he’d be able to let her go. And she’d be all the better for the separation. Safe from him.
Chapter Twelve
Chloe stood assessing her reflection in the mirror. The red silk was perfect, Fin had been correct. The deep red set off the blonde in her honey hair and made her feel bold, confident.
She took a deep breath, filling her lungs. Was that the dress or Fin? Her world had been spinning since the death of her mother, out of control, and quite suddenly the dizziness had stopped. Crystal-clear vision now filled her eyes. She’d gone mute to attempt to control her aunt’s rage, she’d allowed her aunt to manipulate her into a place of fear and, oddly, even though Fin was a fierce man, with him, she’d never felt more safe. It wasn’t until she’d relaxed that she realized just how tense she’d been all the time.
The Wicked Wallflowers: Regency Boxed Set (Chronicles of a Bluestocking) Page 6