by Merry Farmer
She peeked at Adrian again. He seemed to be having a hard time not letting the intensity of his opinion about what Hattie had just suggested shine through in a smile. His lips were pressed firmly together, but his eyes danced with delight.
Asher wasn’t a fool, though. He glanced between Hattie and Adrian assessingly, even rubbing his jaw as though blatantly doing the math involved with titles, fortunes, and matrimonial prospects. Not that Hattie had the first intention of marrying Adrian. Oh, no. Her interest in the man was decidedly baser. She could already imagine him splayed on his back in her bed while she rode him until they both cried out in ecstasy.
“Very well,” Asher said at last with a sigh as though he knew exactly what Hattie had in mind. “Whitemarsh, you are more than welcome to stay and recover. I can have a room prepared for you and a bath brought up right away. You can join us for breakfast soon, or, if you’d prefer, you can sleep for a bit and join us for luncheon. I believe Roselyn and Evangeline are planning a picnic.”
“We are,” Roselyn said from where she’d watched the greetings by the front door. She, too, wore a mysterious grin that said she knew precisely what Hattie was up to. Fortunately for Hattie, Roselyn was also the sort to appreciate a man for what he could do in bed. None of the McGovern women were particularly prudish in that way.
“It’s settled, then,” Asher said, stepping to the side and gesturing for Adrian and Hattie to follow him inside. “You can stay as long as you’d like to recover, and you are welcome to join in whatever games the family has it in their head to play this afternoon.”
“Ooh,” Hattie said as she and Adrian fell into step on their way into the house. “I do love a good game. Don’t you, Lord Whitemarsh?”
Adrian grinned down at her, fire in his eyes. “I most certainly do,” he said. “Though you should know right now that whatever game I play, I play to win.”
“I certainly hope so,” Hattie said, already flushed with anticipation. Nearly dying might just turn out to be the luckiest thing that had ever happened to her.
Chapter 3
She was the one. Lady Hattie McGovern was the woman Adrian was going to spend the rest of his life with. He knew it within moments of pulling her from the carriage. Her selflessness in helping the other women to safety before saving herself was admirable, but the way she had clung to him one moment, shaking and afraid, then transformed into a woman of strength and wit had decided it. And he wasn’t too proud to admit that the way she’d felt in his arms as he comforted her added to his determination to wed her and bed her. Not necessarily in that order.
Yes, Hattie was his ticket back to England, back into his father’s good graces, and back into the money that he so desperately needed to settle his Italian accounts. All he had to do was convince her of the fact. And, of course, the way to a woman’s hand in marriage was through the gentlemen in her family.
Which was how he found himself approaching Lord Asher McGovern and Lord Trent McGovern, Lady Hattie’s cousin and brother respectively, after a short but refreshing nap, a wash, and a shave in one of the villa’s numerous guest rooms. The entire McGovern family was spread out on the sloping lawn of the Tuscan villa, enjoying an al fresco lunch and various games and amusements in the sunshine.
“Gentlemen,” he nodded to the two McGoverns as he wedged his way into whatever conversation they were having. “Allow me to thank you again for your hospitality.”
The two men welcomed him into their circle easily.
“I should be thanking you for coming to my sister’s rescue,” Trent said, extending a hand to shake Adrian’s. He paused to laugh. “There’s a phrase I never thought I would utter.”
He glanced to Asher, who laughed along with him. Adrian didn’t quite get the joke, but he took a moment to observe each man so that he would know what he was up against in asking for Hattie’s hand.
Asher and Trent McGovern were as different as two gentlemen could be. Asher was clearly the head of the family in every way—from his style of dress to his height and stunningly good looks. He was the sort of man that ladies would fall all over themselves for, with blue eyes, blond hair, and a chiseled jaw. Trent was the sort most ladies would hide behind their fans and snigger at. He had the McGovern height, but none of the family’s trim good looks. Although his face was kind and his blue eyes shone with compassion, he was stocky, and even standing still, Adrian could tell the man had little in the way of grace. He seemed to know his shortcomings as well, judging by the way he stood. Although, as Adrian finished shaking the man’s hand, he wondered if what the man he was determined to make his future brother-in-law needed was a good tailor.
“Thus far, I have found Lady Hattie to be an incomparable woman of determination and fortitude,” Adrian said, sharing a friendly smile with the two men.
Once again, Trent and Asher laughed at a joke he didn’t understand.
“Determination is true enough,” Asher said.
“Fortitude as well, depending on how the word is used,” Trent added with a grin.
Adrian glanced between the two men. “What other adjectives would you use to describe such a beautiful and lively woman?”
The two McGoverns exchanged glances.
“Cunning,” Asher said.
“Devilishly cunning,” Trent laughed. “And wily.”
“Definitely wily,” Asher agreed with an arch of one brow. “How about ‘defiant’?”
“That goes without saying,” Trent shrugged. “Is there a single word for the concept of one being impossible to pin down and be made to behave?”
“Impetuous?” Asher suggested.
Adrian’s smile broadened. With each new word, his heart beat harder and faster. “Might I suggest ‘ideal’?” he asked.
Both men stared at him in surprise. “Now there’s a thought,” Asher said. “Ideal for what, though?”
“Marriage.” Adrian shrugged. He might as well lay all his cards on the table. Even though doing the same the night before had cost him a small fortune. Metaphorical cards were much easier to play than actual ones.
And yet, both McGovern men blinked at him, their mouths twitching as though they were trying hard not to laugh at his expense.
“Now there’s a word I never thought I’d hear applied to Cousin Hattie,” Asher said, giving in to laughter at last.
Adrian’s confidence in both his aroused interest in Lady Hattie and the success of whatever proposal he would make faltered. “And why is that? Aren’t all ladies of her age in search of suitable husbands?”
“Not all of them,” Trent answered with a grin.
Adrian’s confidence fell farther. “She’s not, you know, inclined toward female company, is she?”
Both men burst out laughing. “Far from it,” Trent said. “My sister is as unconventional as the rest of our wicked clan. I doubt she is inclined to marry because it would mean limiting herself to just one man.”
Mad as it was, that revelation excited Adrian. He’d never cared much for milquetoast misses anyhow. A modern woman of experience was far more enjoyable to bed than a blushing virgin. Though Asher and Trent did have a point about luring that sort into marriage.
“I can assure you,” he told the men with a smile. “I am up for the challenge.”
Trent raised his eyebrows. “Are you?” He shifted to study Adrian with deeper scrutiny. “If you don’t mind my asking, who are your people again?”
Adrian pulled himself to his full height with an admittedly smug look. “My father is Lord Reginald Fairfax, Marquess of Ashbourne. I’m currently the Earl of Whitemarsh, but as the eldest son, I stand to inherit my father’s title and everything that goes with it.”
Trent blinked, then glanced to Asher. “What do you think? Is that enough to entice Hattie?”
“She’s your sister,” Asher shrugged. He turned back to Adrian with an assessing look. “Are you related to Lord Gregory Fairfax?”
“He’s my younger brother,” Adrian said, suddenly anxious. Gregor
y was the black sheep of the family in a few too many ways.
As soon as Adrian had that thought—and as soon as he noticed the suddenly serious look in Asher’s eyes—several thoughts sprang up from the back of his mind. “Hold on,” he said. “Addlebury, right? I believe Gregory has mentioned you a time or two, though I can’t for the life of me remember what it was in reference to.”
“I’m sure it was nothing,” Asher said, suddenly tense. His smile was tight, and it was as if a mask had descended over his features. He cleared his throat and said, “If you will excuse me, I must speak to…to my sister.”
He walked abruptly away, leaving Adrian gaping in his wake, no idea what had happened. Though the more he thought about it, the more he remembered Gregory hinting that Lord Addlebury was a shifty sort of character—one that had cause more than a little trouble for Gregory and his friends. Perhaps that explained why the entire McGovern family was on holiday in Europe instead of making a splash on the social scene in England.
“Don’t pay him any mind,” Trent said. He sounded at ease, but when Adrian glanced to him, there was just as much tension in the man’s face as there had been in Asher’s. “Asher has far too much on his plate, what with keeping the family in line during this sojourn.”
Adrian started to answer, but every thought was blown out of his mind when he spotted Hattie sweeping out of the house. She looked as bright and refreshed as a new day in her dazzling afternoon gown. Her dark hair was minimally styled, and its length hung down her back like a delicious curtain Adrian couldn’t wait to run his hands through. Every fiber of his being responded to the sight of her, a few more than others.
“If you will excuse me, my lord,” he said distractedly to Trent. “I believe your sister looks lonely.”
Trent laughed. “I’m not sure that’s a state she’s familiar with.”
Adrian would have come up with a reply, but Hattie had paused on the terrace just outside the house. She stood there for a moment, searching. It thrilled Adrian to think she was searching for him, and when their eyes finally met and she blossomed into a smile, it was as though the heavens had opened and the angels were singing.
“Lady Hattie. Don’t you look lovely after your nap,” he said with as much charm as he could muster. Charm was the very best tool in any man’s arsenal when it came to wooing a fair maiden. Adrian was determined to have Hattie agree to his marriage suit before the day was over.
“Didn’t I insist that you call me Hattie?” She advanced across the terrace boldly, meeting him at the edge of the lawn and extending her hand, as though deigning to let him take it and kiss her knuckles.
He wasn’t about to let her down. He slid her hand into his, bending gallantly for the expected kiss and lingering where he could glance up at her with a wicked look. “I wasn’t sure whether you were serious,” he teased her.
“I can assure you, Lord Whitemarsh, when it comes to my friends, I am always serious,” she said.
Adrian straightened, but continued to hold her hand. “I thought I insisted you call me Adrian.” He winked. Before she could do more than smile and turn a sultry look on him he went on with, “Am I your friend?”
“I think you are,” she answered, her smile growing. “Though it would be much more enjoyable if you were something else.”
“Your devoted servant, perhaps?” He shifted to stand by her side, offering his arm so that he could escort her across the lawn to one of the various games her family was playing.
“I can think of quite a few good uses I could put a devoted servant to,” she said with a spark in her eyes, steering him away from the games and toward the tables that had been set with food for luncheon.
Adrian’s cock stiffened at the implication of her words and at her ability to guide him where she wanted to go. He’d never thought he was the sort to enjoy being dominated by a woman, but Hattie McGovern was special. Perhaps they could take turns with the domination.
He had a mission, though—to convince Hattie to marry him—and only a limited amount of time in which to accomplish it. At the very least, he needed to endear himself to Hattie enough to be invited back into the McGovern fold for another visit once he left.
“Have I told you how beautiful you look this afternoon?” he began. It was always easiest to start by complimenting a woman’s appearance. Vain or not, the way to a woman’s heart was through appreciation of her physical attributes.
“You’ve barely had the chance to tell me,” she laughed, approaching the refreshment table at a leisurely pace.
“Well, it’s true. You are as radiant as the sun and as alluring as the moon,” he said.
She sent him a sideways look, her lips pressed into a teasing line. “In this old thing?” she asked, picking at the lace of her skirt. “I only dress like this when I am home with family and have no need to impress anyone.”
Adrian’s gut clenched. Every other time he’d complimented a woman that way she’d blushed and cooed. Hattie reacted as though he’d asked the price of the lace that went into her gown and she’d made a full and passionless account of costs. He’d never known a fine compliment not to turn a woman’s head before.
“Can I prepare a plate from this magnificent feast for you?” he asked, letting go of her arm and beating her to the table. Every woman he’d ever known adored it when a gentleman offered to perform mundane tasks for her. He would be her knight in shining armor. “Let me serve you, my lady,” he added for good measure.
“But how would you know what I like to eat?” Hattie asked, taking an empty plate for herself and ignoring his offer. Her flashing gaze swept him from head to toe, pausing in the middle as though she had something in mind besides the food on the table that she’d like to put in her mouth.
The prospect sent a shiver of lust through Adrian. “You could tell me,” he said, taking a plate all the same and following her as she moved along the length of the table, selecting finger sandwiches and miniature savory tarts for herself.
“Yes, but if I did, it would take so much more time than if I helped myself,” she argued, glancing back over her shoulder at him. “I am accustomed to helping myself where delectable treats are concerned.”
As stirring as her comment was, it also made Adrian feel as though he were on the back foot. Compliments and chivalrous actions had failed him. He would have to do far better than he was if he hoped to win his way into Hattie’s affections and snag her hand in marriage. The trump card he knew he could play wasn’t subtle, but it was beginning to look like the only thing that could secure her interest.
“Our cook back in England is quite skilled in producing feasts such as this one,” he said as they reached the end of the table, where desserts of all descriptions were piled.
“Oh?” Hattie asked, selecting a particularly fat éclair for her plate.
“Yes,” Adrian went on. “She’s been known to create culinary masterpieces for all of our family’s notable friends. Mama likes to host supper parties in our London home in Mayfair, and at any of our numerous estates throughout the country. Everyone who is anyone attends when she plays hostess.” He paused to see if his implication of the Fairfax family’s importance was sinking in as they stepped away from the table and headed to one of the white wicker tables that had been set up around the yard.
“I supposed your family is wealthy and well-connected,” Hattie said, leveling a flat look at him. Dammit, but she could see exactly what he was doing, and she didn’t seem impressed.
“I’ll be a marquess someday,” he said stupidly. Blast it, but nothing was working on the woman.
He set his plate on the small table they’d reached, then moved to hold a chair out for Hattie. She sat elegantly, grinning up at him, utterly in control of the situation. Once she was seated, Adrian shuffled into the seat across from her.
“A marquess, you say?” She batted her eyelashes, her cheeks glowing pink.
“It’s not bad.” He did his best to appear casual. “A lady could do much
worse.”
She hummed, picking up her éclair with delicate fingers. “And are those all of your finest assets?” she asked, arching one eyebrow. “Or do you have something sizeable to offer?”
Before he could answer, she brought the éclair to her pink lips. With her eyes dancing with mischief and locked on his, she drew the lucky pastry into her mouth. Deep into her mouth. Deep enough to be shockingly lewd. Her accompanying expression of pleasure had Adrian blessing his lucky stars that he was sitting down. His cock went so hard as he watched her enjoying the éclair that he nearly groaned in pain. The torture was made even worse when a bit of cream burst out the side of the pastry, spreading across her lips and chin.
“Oh, God,” he croaked before he could stop himself.
She dissolved into peals of laughter that seemed to come from the depths of her throat as she withdrew most of the éclair, biting off the end and setting the rest on the plate. With one finger, she wiped the escaped cream from her face, then sucked it off her finger.
Adrian was reasonably certain he was in danger of unmanning himself right then and there.
“I know what I want, Adrian,” she said in a husky voice. “I see no reason to deny it or pretend otherwise.”
“I know what I want as well,” he said, hoarse with lust. He wanted her naked, on her back, and spread in his bed while he fucked her until they were both sore. And he wanted that every day for the rest of his life.
He leaned across his ignored plate of luncheon, scrambling for words wicked enough to tempt Hattie into abandoning her family’s activities and accompanying him inside, but Gianni’s sudden shout of, “Mia bella, where are you going?” cut through the haze of his lust and reminded him of where he was and what he should have been doing. He leaned back quickly, frowning as he watched his friend chase Miss Sewett across the lawn.
“Oh, dear,” Hattie laughed. She snorted, then raised a hand to hide her mouth. The whole thing was so adorable that Adrian had to adjust the way he was sitting to relieve the pain of trousers that were suddenly agonizingly tight. “Poor Miss Sewett,” Hattie went on, watching the aging chaperone as she attempted to escape Gianni.