I Love to Hate You: Revenge has never tasted so sweet... (Marry in Haste Series Book 1)

by Elizabeth Keysian

  “Is Miss Dunstable at home?”

  “She is not. Did you wish to speak with her?” Oh, Lord, why was she hiding behind pleasantries? She, too, was anxious—so much so, she was shaking. She thrust her hands behind her back lest he see.

  “Of course not. I only want to see you, Athene.”

  Her breathing eased at the passion in his voice, and she took a pace towards him.

  “Why did you leave Hedenham without a word?” she demanded. “I thought you’d abandoned me.”

  “Never.” He closed the distance between them and took her hand. Then immediately started chafing it between his own. “Good God, woman, you’re freezing. Have you had your hands in the ice bucket?”

  “No, I’ve been sewing on a cold day.”

  He raised her fingers to his lips and blew on them, then kissed them. “I left precipitously because I needed to find Harry. He’d absconded, you see, and I had an idea of what he might be up to. He blackmailed you into refusing me, didn’t he? Why didn’t you say something?”

  She gazed up at him, losing herself in the tenderness of his expression, the softness in his eyes. “I was afraid it would only make things worse if I did.”

  Then, not a moment too soon, he enfolded her in his arms, pressing her hard against him. Heat flooded into her. Not a sensual fire, but a comforting warmth, protective, potent and caring. She snuggled into his embrace and peeped up at him.

  “I never thought I’d say this, but I’ve missed you dreadfully, Oliver.”

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ve missed you too. More than I ever did before. I’m sorry it took me such a long time to come—I never want to be apart from you so long again. Unfortunately, it took some manoeuvring to mollify my father and come up with a plan to silence Harry.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Not another plan. As I’ve discovered, they don’t always work out the way you intend them.”

  “But they can work out for the best, can’t they?” He searched her face. “Come. There’s a great deal to be said. Shall we talk here, or shall I whisk you away in the carriage for a hot, heartening meal?”

  “I’m not dressed for going out. And I don’t want you to have to wait while I change.”

  “I shan’t mind. Not if I’m allowed to watch you.”

  The suggestive timbre of his voice made her shiver in anticipation. Nothing had taken the edge off her desire for him. “That might prove too distracting if we have plans to make.” Her voice had never sounded so sultry.

  He chuckled. “A disappointment. But I insist on taking you out after we’ve talked. You look like a half-starved street urchin. If you don’t mind me saying so.”

  She extricated herself from his arms and led the way to the parlour, then cleared a chair for him by the fire. “If I minded, would it make any difference? I’ve come to expect blunt speaking from you.”

  “As have I from you.” He didn’t give her the chance to use her own chair, but pulled her onto his lap. She wriggled a little, then settled. He made a comfortable, if extremely distracting, seat.

  “Talk to me then,” she invited, draping her arms around his neck so she could toy with his hair.

  “I love you.”

  Her heart leaped, and tears threatened again. Had he really just told her he loved her or was it wishful thinking and an overactive imagination on her part?

  His arms loosened their grip. “You look stunned. I hope the news is not unwelcome.”

  “No… No…Not unwelcome at all. I fear don’t deserve your love.”

  He squeezed her tightly and nuzzled her hair. “Of course, you do. You always have. I’m not saying it by way of atoning for my sins. But I want the chance to prove my love if you’re prepared to have me.”

  Could they truly be together? Had he found a way?

  He pressed a finger over her lips as she was about to speak. “Please, let me finish. I want to marry you. Not because I should but because I cannot imagine there ever being another woman in my life besides you. If we cannot prevail over Harry, then I will swear myself to celibacy. I’ll make him my heir, and I’ll ensure you and I have no issue.”

  No children? As her heart sank, he lifted her chin and brushed her lips with his own.

  “Don’t look disappointed, my darling. There are plenty of ways in which we can still take our mutual pleasure. It will take self-control, but it won’t be impossible. If it means we can be together without fear of reprisals, I will endure anything.”

  “Oh, Oliver. I do love you!”

  “Damn it, woman—you’d better mean what you say.” He seized her face between his hands and kissed her. She thrilled to the touch of his lips—after all this time, it felt like being kissed by the sun, heat and light and a blaze of uplifting glory. The man, his mouth, his tongue, his soul, pouring into her all the joy of which she’d felt deprived her entire life. They were one incandescent whole, each feeding hungrily on what the other had to give.

  When they eventually separated, she felt as limp as a rag doll. If he’d chosen that moment to hoist her up, strip her naked and throw her onto the bed, she’d have found no will to resist him. In fact, getting naked had considerable appeal.

  “I want to say I’m the happiest man alive.” His voice was a sensual drawl, though a little breathless. “But it won’t be truly the case until the day we stand side by side at the altar. Will you accept my alternative terms if my plan to deal with Harry is unsuccessful?”

  “I will.” She was dying to know what his plan was, but her mind kept wandering to other things, such as the feel of Rushbourne’s sturdy thighs beneath her, and the heat of his hands around her waist.

  He kissed her forehead. “Good girl. Harry told me what he’d said to you—after a little leverage on my part. Foul creature—I wanted to break his nose. I doubt we’ll ever be friends again. If indeed we ever were.”

  “What did he say?”

  “About needing to be my heir. He also admitted to having kissed you in the dark, our first night at Hedenham. The little runt.”

  Rushbourne was jealous? Delicious. “Harry told me he was disappointed.”

  “Only because he had no idea how to kiss you properly. If his are the only lips to have transgressed, I shall be well pleased.”

  “No other has kissed me but you,” she reassured him. “Though perhaps I ought to try out a few more gentlemen, in case you’re not so good a lover as I think.”

  He squeezed her tight and growled in her ear, “I sincerely hope I am. Now, before you torment me to death, shall we start coming up with ways of silencing Harry?”

  “Yes, indeed.”

  She doubted she’d be much help—Rushbourne had far greater knowledge of his brother than she. But if she was to have the kind of marriage she craved, any plan he came up with had better be very sound indeed.

  Chapter 18

  By mid-December, Athene was installed in private apartments in London, with the services of two maids, a cook, and a footman-cum-steward. She had an account at one of the finest mantua makers in the city and had, in an extremely short time, become one of the darlings of the Ton. This, she informed Rushbourne, when he arrived in a swirl of early snow, was only because they had yet to discover her true nature.

  He laughed as he brushed the fine flakes from his coat. “I worry sometimes I have not yet discovered your true nature, and once you have netted me for your husband, you’re going to make me regret ever doing so.”

  “If I still craved revenge, I might very well do that, but you’ve been weakening my resolve of late. Anyway, I’m not allowing myself to get too familiar with anyone in London society, lest Harry get his way and you’re disinherited.”

  He ran a finger down her cheek, his touch thrilling her. Hot and enticing, and so hard to resist—even when they were out in public, she struggled to keep her hands off him.

  His thumb grazed the corner of her mouth, and his lips followed in a brief salute. “Don’t worry. My Cirencester estate is entirely my own, willed to
me by my late uncle. You may not find Cotswold society as brilliant as London’s, but we’ll make the most of it, I’m sure. However—”

  “However?” The thrill became a chill. She didn’t like howevers.

  He grinned. “However, Harry shall not prevail. Today his reckoning will come, and you and I will be there to witness it. Now put on your warmest pelisse and muff—we have a journey to make.”

  With the help of her new lady’s maid, she did as bid, and moments later stepped out into the ice-grey day, her breath forcing clouds of warmth in amongst the eddying snowflakes.

  Her fiancé’s carriage stood outside, with its familiar coat of arms emblazoned on the sides, and a team of bay horses sending up further clouds of vapour into the frigid air.

  But there was something different about it today. Was the carriage sitting lower on its springs? Suddenly she saw a movement within.

  “Who’s coming with us?” she demanded, halting Rushbourne with a hand on his arm.

  He tapped the side of his nose and gave her a mischievous look. “You’ll see when we get inside.”

  Accepting his arm, she climbed up the steps into the carriage. In one corner, well wrapped against the cold, sat the Duke of Burlington. She baulked, then remembered she was due to become a countess and should be able to hold her head high in any company.

  “Your Grace.” She inclined her head and took the proffered seat next to him.

  “Miss Hartville. An absolute delight. I trust you have forgiven me for the cruel trick I played on you back in November? It seems,” he added, winking at her, “to have produced dividends.”

  “You’re not taking the credit for this, Burley,” was Rushbourne’s gruff response. “I’ve been the perfect suppliant and suitor. Besides, Athene made the first serious move, did you not, my angel?”

  Insufferable man! She was tempted to kick him, but at that moment the carriage lurched forwards, then settled into a steady rocking motion as the horses clattered their way across the cobbles.

  The duke smiled at her. “I trust you don’t object to me accompanying you? I am rather looking forward to seeing the Honourable Henry Paviland put in his place—I am well aware of his peccadilloes and think it a great pity his Papa is too ill to be told. Your fiancé has covered for the youth long enough. It’s time Harry grew up and took some responsibility.”

  Anticipation pricked at her spine. The problem of Harry was about to be resolved, the only major obstacle to her marrying Rushbourne. Still pink-cheeked from his veiled reference to the tying-to-the-bed incident, she risked a glance at him. He looked as self-assured as ever, clearly confident of success. If only he’d let her in on the plan he’d dreamed up … but he’d teased her with a blunt refusal. The suspense was exasperating.

  A glance out the carriage window showed the snow was easing off. It also showed she was in familiar surroundings. Surely, they were heading east, towards where she’d been living a mere two weeks previously. Weren’t they approaching the end of their street?

  The coachman pulled his team to a stop just shy of Kat’s front door. Rushbourne got out and helped her down. Once the duke had disembarked, the carriage was sent for a trot around the block to keep the horses warm.

  “Are we going in?” she asked.

  Rushbourne reached into his pocket and dangled something in front of her. “We are. I have the key. Now, I adjure everyone to silence if you please. Particularly, you, Burley old friend. I know how noisy you can be when excited.”

  “You wound me, sir.”

  Why did they have to be quiet? What in heaven was going on? Feeling like a thief, she stole up the stairs behind the men and came to a halt outside Kat’s bedchamber. Rushbourne knocked softly on the door, and Kat’s voice answered, “Come in.”

  He turned to them, grinning broadly. “It would appear our plan has met with success. My dear, I would prefer you to wait outside while I escort the duke in.”

  “If you leave me outside, I shall scream,” was her terse response. “You won’t like it. I have much bigger lungs now I’m grown up.”

  He grimaced. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he growled, as he flung open the door.

  The sight that met her eyes almost did make her scream. But whether it would have been a scream of horror or delight, she couldn’t say. There, spread-eagled on Kat’s bed, was Henry Paviland, naked as the day he was born, his ankles and wrists tied to the bedposts using what looked like the very same ribbons with which Athene had once bound Rushbourne.

  Harry was unable to express his views on the matter. Not because he was gagged, but because his mouth was full of small pieces of paper.

  His eyes registered complete dismay when he realised he had an audience, and he writhed about on the bed, tugging ineffectually at his bonds. Then he narrowed his eyes at Kat, who stood over him, fully dressed and brandishing a birch rod.

  “Good morning, brother. We appear to have caught you at a bad moment.”

  Athene nudged her fiancé’s elbow. “Don’t gloat,” she whispered. “You fell for it too.”

  “Indeed, and I know who taught you. I begin to envy Foulsham his inventive mistress.”

  “Shh.” She kicked at his ankle. “The duke will hear you.”

  Burley had approached the bed. “Well I never, it’s little Harry. How do you do, sir?”

  Harry was attempting to speak, but the papers in his mouth prevented him. He began to go red in the face. Athene watched with interest as the flush proceeded down his chest towards his…

  Rushbourne turned to Kat. “Cover him up, please, Miss Dunstable. I think we’ve all seen enough.”

  Kat gave Athene a conspiratorial grin, then threw a sheet over the fuming Harry. He was now chewing at and attempting to spit out the papers in his mouth.

  “Harry, be still.”

  The note of command in Rushbourne’s tone made Harry freeze. He gave his brother a helpless look, then his head thumped back on the pillow, and he closed his eyes.

  “What are those papers, Viscount?” The duke pointed to Harry’s mouth.

  Rushbourne removed the soggy bundle, pressed his finger on Harry’s lips in warning, then separated one undamaged paper from the rest and handed it to Burlington. “Just one example among many.”

  The duke moved closer to the window to read. “This is a cancelled IOU from Lord Pentonbrooke.” He turned back and leafed through the other papers, which Rushbourne had unceremoniously laid on his brother’s chest.

  “Another cancelled IOU from the Duchess of Ayr. And what’s this? A bill for a hundred guineas from a jeweller in Hatton Garden? Where did you get a hundred guineas from, boy? He frowned at Harry. “And what in God’s name did you spend it on? Your father would be appalled if he knew.”

  “Shall I explain?” Rushbourne offered. At the duke’s nod, he continued, “I have a few friends who have been keeping an eye on Harry this past year. Thus, I’ve been able to keep track of all of those to whom he has lost at gambling. Through various means, I managed to get each IOU cancelled.”

  Athene took Rushbourne’s hand and held it tightly. He’d had a lot to deal with, trying to resolve everything and at the same time keep Harry’s misdemeanours a secret from his father. Her admiration for him grew. In his own sphere, he was clearly a man to be reckoned with.

  Harry had turned his head to the wall. Kat, with a wink at Athene, started undoing his bonds.

  “But what about this huge jeweller’s bill?” the duke persisted. “If I am to speak to the earl about it, I must have all the particulars.”

  “It may not come to that,” Rushbourne informed him. “Assuming Harry sees sense. He’s been trying to buy the favours of a very expensive opera dancer. He used his winnings as a partial payment on a fine set of diamonds. I’ll say this for him—Harry has good taste. This jeweller had the bad grace to request the remainder of the payment when Harry’s luck at the tables was somewhat…poor. I have since acquired the diamonds, returned them to the jeweller and used the residu
e from the original payment to mollify the female in question. She understood when I explained the gems were not yet paid for.”

  “You’re a cad, Rushbourne.”

  “Simply trying to keep you out of trouble, Harry.”

  “I know what will keep him out of trouble,” the duke announced. “A long spell in the army. Should give him a bit of backbone. I have a cousin who knows everyone who’s anyone—I’ll send him a note and ask him to place a recruit. As far away from Gloucester as possible, I take it, Rushbourne?”

  “Cornwall would do very well,” was the reply.

  “Cornwall?” Harry blustered. “Nothing ever happens in Cornwall.”

  “I beg to differ, you young scoundrel. Now, am I to take these IOUs to the earl, or are you going to retract all the vile threats you’ve been making against Rushbourne?”

  Her fiancé tugged at Athene’s hand. “Shall we leave them to their negotiations?” he suggested, angling his head towards the door. “I think, for now, our work is done. We can wait in the carriage if it has returned.”

  She nodded, but when they opened the door and looked out at the weather, snow had started to descend more thickly, swirling flakes that settled rapidly on the cobbles and pavements.

  “I think we may be too cold, Oliver.”

  “Very well, I’ll have the coachman drive us back to your apartments. He can return for the duke directly. I expect he’ll want to head straight for White’s.”

  “Don’t you want to go with him? Find out what was said?” she asked as he handed her up into the carriage.

  “He may be ramshackle, but when the Duke of Burlington sets his mind to something, he generally achieves it. He’ll put the fear of God into poor Harry. Neither of us has any intention of telling Papa what’s happened, as I don’t want him upset, but Harry will never know that. Anyway, why would I want to go to White’s when I have you with me, foolish girl? If this snow gets any thicker, you’ll need me around to make sure you don’t slip over, or run out of firewood and other provisions. You could end up being snowed in, and I’ve no intention of not being with you should that happen.”