Loving the Wrong Lord

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  Turning, Josie wasn’t really surprised to see Phin standing there. In the fading twilight, his face was cast in shadow, his body bathed in a purple-blue haze that made him seem more fantasy than reality.

  “I couldn’t exactly go to this evening’s festivities, now could I?” Rising from where she had been seated inside the gazebo, Josie turned to face him. “I can only imagine what the gossip will be like. I disgraced myself today.”

  “You saved my life,” Phin countered as he slowly advanced up the gazebo’s steps. “Do you really think I give a damn what the gossips say?”

  Josie shrugged. “You might not, for you are a duke. You will be forgiven. I am no one. A madman’s daughter. I will be viewed through the same eye of suspicion as he was.”

  Phin reached out to cup Josie’s face. “Not if you are my duchess, they wouldn’t.”

  “But I’m not your duchess.”

  “But I want you to be.”

  “Phin. Be reasonable. We are only just courting.”

  He cocked his head to the side. “Then consider the courtship over as of now.”

  Josie wanted to make some clever remark, but when Phin swept her up into his arms and kissed her, all she would have said died on her lips and fled her mind. Instead, there was just Phin and the feel of his lips on hers. And the feeling was marvelous.

  “We shouldn’t be doing this.” Josie’s protest was feeble at best.

  “Says who?” Phin replied as he began to suck at the tender skin of her neck.

  “Everyone?” Really, though, who was everyone? Josie was no longer certain.

  “They don’t matter. We matter.” He nuzzled the base of her throat. “You matter to me, Josie. More than any sharp-tongued harpy or nosy gentleman.”

  Turning with her still in his arms, Phin sat down on the gazebo’s wide bench. “Did you know that I had this gazebo designed specifically so that a man and a woman could indulge in their baser needs?”

  Josie, who was now straddling Phin’s lap, moaned as her soft, feminine mound met his hard-as-stone erection. “I had no idea.”

  “Mmmm.” He licked the side of her neck before trailing his tongue lower. “I had hoped, well, we shall not discuss what I had hoped for in the past. Rather, let us focus on what I hoped for now, in the present.”

  “Which is what?” Josie arched into Phin’s touch as he freed her breasts from the confines of her gown, the warm night air making her nipples tighten and ache.

  “You, Josie.” Phin suckled on one nipple while toying with another. “I want you. I want to marry you. I want you to be my duchess. I don’t give a damn about gossip or scandal or any of the rest of it.” He licked the shadowy valley between her breasts. “All I need is for you to want the same things.”

  Josie let out an anguished cry. Phin was offering her what she desired on a proverbial silver platter. Her mind insisted that she turn him away and remind him about the gossip. Gossip and scandal that they had both vowed to avoid at the beginning of this little adventure.

  Her heart, however, urged her to say yes, reminding her that if they were together? They could weather the coming scandal. As for her soul? It begged her to give in to what she wanted for once. Because she did want Phin. She perhaps even loved him.

  And in the end? Her heart and her soul overrode her head.

  “I do,” Josie breathed as Phin hiked up her skirts while he fumbled with the fall on his trousers. “I want you, Phin. So much. I want you, and I need you and, oh!”

  With one hard thrust, Phin sild his hard, aching cock inside of her, and Josie felt that now-familiar spiral of desire begin to well up from deep inside of her. This was what she craved as well. She craved this man’s body and the pleasure he could give her. If that made her a wanton, then so be it.

  “Say yes, Josie,” Phin demanded as he thrust inside of her again before kissing her deeply. “Say you will be my wife. I need you, Josie. So damn much.”

  He might not have said that he loved her, but for Josie, hearing Phin confess that he needed her – for whatever reason – was all she needed to hear. Because she needed him too.

  “Yes, Phin! Yes! I will marry you! As soon as you like!” Josie was panting now. With each thrust of Phin’s cock, he was pushing her higher and higher, and, at this angle, she had never felt him drive so deeply inside of her.

  Her release was coming faster than she had anticipated. Everything was coming faster. She felt him begin to pulse as well and knew that he was close to his own release.

  She should demand that he withdraw. Except that he hadn’t before and at this point? What did it matter? They were to be wed, after all.

  “Thank God!” Phin breathed as he bucked hard with Josie on his lap. “Oh, God! Josie!”

  She felt Phin spill inside of her, and when he leaned over to suckle her breasts, Josie felt herself following him over that glorious precipice. It was magnificent. It was marvelous. And for the rest of her life? This feeling would be all hers.

  What she was feeling might not be love. Or it might be. It didn’t matter just then because she would have the rest of her life with Phin to sort things out. That was all that mattered.

  And as the sun finally finished setting over the hidden gazebo at the center of the maze, for the first time in longer than Josie could remember, she felt perfectly and utterly content.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Town Tattler

  (Far, Far Too Early Morning Edition)

  Much as I wrote not so very long ago, dear readers, I cannot and will not believe what many of my fellow gossip columnists are printing this morning. I refuse to believe that Lord Fullbridge compromised Lady Margaretta Kerns in any way, shape, or form. I do not care what she or what that Gorgon she calls a mother claim, either.

  What I can say, for certain, is that Lord Fullbridge is utterly and completely in love with Lady Josephine Marshwood. That is without question and without a doubt. Word out of Havenhurst is that they were quietly betrothed last evening under the watchful eye of her guardian, Lord Radcliffe – at nearly the same time that Miss Kerns swears Lord Fullbridge was defiling her in a butler’s pantry.

  Obviously, one of them is lying. I know which one I believe that to be.

  If Lady Margaretta thinks to trap Lord Fullbridge into marriage? I have a feeling the gentleman has quite a few powerful and influential friends who might have a thing or two to say about her plans. Including Lord Radcliffe and his brother-in-law, The Bloody Duke.

  That is the thing about underhanded dealings, dear readers. Unless you are absolutely certain no one else knows the truth of what you have done or are about to do? Best not to do it. Just in case.

  -Lady A

  “Some house party this is turning out to be,” Cilla grumbled as she slapped the now well-worn newspaper onto Phin’s desk. “Actually, I don’t care about me, Phin. I shall live. What of you and Lady Josie? You are not going to marry that harpy, Lady Margaretta, are you?”

  Behind his desk, Phin rubbed at his temples. Somewhere beyond his study door, he could hear the orchestra already warming up and the clatter of footmen setting out trays of drinks. Cilla’s birthday ball was scheduled to begin in just over an hour. A ball he was quite certain he no longer wanted any part of whatsoever.

  “No. I’m not.” On that point, Phin was adamant. “I don’t care what lies that woman and her mother spread. I will not marry her, and she will not trap me into it. I have already endured one miserable marriage. I will not endure another.” He rested his chin in his hands. “I should have seen this coming.”

  “How?” Cilla stopped her pacing long enough to give her brother a hard look.

  He sighed. “She cornered me last night as I was sneaking out to find Josie. She made it clear she wished to be my duchess. Not because she cared about me, mind you.”

  Cilla picked up the stack of gossip rags that had been arriving all day and flung them into the nearby hearth. “But because she cares about the title and the funds and everything being t
he Duchess of Fullbridge will bring her.” She snorted. “Does the fair Lady Margaretta know that, if I disapprove of your new bride, I can lay claim to all that is unentailed? Not that I would. But I could.”

  “I doubt it.” Phin rubbed his forehead again. “All she sees is a title and plump bank accounts. The rest, including me? Is irrelevant.”

  Cilla finally stopped pacing and kneeled down in front of Phin’s desk and spoke in a near whisper. “And what does Josie think of all this?”

  “I have no idea,” Phin confessed, pushing himself out of his chair. The same chair where he had helped to make so many successful matches over the last few months. What a fool he had been, believing that love would always win the day. “She won’t speak to me. I’m not even certain she is still here.”

  “She is,” Cilla confirmed quietly as she rose as well. “I wouldn’t let her leave. I refused her request to have her team hitched, and her coach brought around.” She shook her head in disgust. “I thought you two had hashed out this entire matter last night.”

  Phin poured himself a drink and downed it in one gulp before pouring another. “I thought we had as well. She agreed to marry me. She agreed that we should not care about gossip. And yet, one hint of scandal and she runs from me, though in truth, a part of me cannot really blame her.” He polished off his second glass of scotch. “Still, if that is all the more that she thinks of me and what is between us? Then perhaps a marriage between us would not work out after all. Such a union would be little better than having Faith back.”

  “Oh, I rather doubt that.” Both Trew siblings turned to see the Bloody Duke standing in the doorway, leaning rather indolently against the frame as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “Your first wife was a frigid shrew, and saying so is being unfair to frigid shrews. You and Miss Marshwood, on the other hand, are perfectly suited. So, let us make certain you don’t muck this up any more than you already have, shall we?”

  “Candlewood?” Phin was in shock. “What are you doing here?”

  “Izzy and I were on our way to Fairhaven when the news broke. Saw the newspaper this morning at the inn where we spent the night. Charming place, really, but that’s beside the point. After some discussion, we thought we might pop by and see if we could offer our assistance.” Phin might be accused of looking like a rogue on occasion, but the Bloody Duke looked exactly like a pirate.

  His face held a day’s worth of whiskery shadow, and his long, now slightly graying hair hung to his shoulders. He looked as if he would be more at home pacing the deck of a ship than lounging about in Phin’s doorway. He also had an air about him that hinted that he would happily spill someone’s blood if the occasion warranted.

  “I don’t see what you could possibly do.” Phin poured the duke a double shot of whiskey, known to be his preferred drink. “Unless you can turn back time so that those stories were never printed.”

  With a yawn, the Bloody Duke plopped himself down into an empty chair. “Not even I can arrange time or the universe itself, unfortunately.” He raised a toast to Phin. “However, I can exert a fair amount of pressure where none yet exists.”

  “On the gossips?” Phin’s head was beginning to throb now.

  “On Lady Temins and her screeching banshee of a daughter.” Candlewood finished his drink, and Cilla helpfully refilled his glass. “Why didn’t you tell me the Kerns chit was becoming a pest?”

  “Until last evening? She wasn’t.” Cilla, who had poured herself a drink as well, downed the fiery liquid in one sip before slamming the glass down so hard that it cracked. Phin did have to admire how well his sister was holding on to her temper at the moment. “Before last evening, she paraded about like a fool and hinted at what she desired. She snipped at the other guests and generally behaved like a petulant child. But it was nothing more than that. I had no idea she could turn so vindictive when denied what she desired.” She sighed. “Though, like my brother, I suppose I should have.”

  The Bloody Duke seemed to mull that over for a moment. “Then she is more troublesome, not to mention more underhanded than I had anticipated.” Then he shrugged as if that new bit of information was of no concern. “Very well. I shall have to take care of things in my own fashion, then.”

  Phin wasn’t quite certain what that meant, but he had a feeling that Miss Kerns and her mother were in for a very rude surprise. “What would you have us do then? Or, rather, me?”

  Candlewood waved a hand in the air. “Proceed with the ball as planned. Do your best to make amends with Miss Marshwood. I’m afraid I can’t help you much there. At least not yet.” He rolled his eyes. “Though if you do thoroughly bugger it up, I shall see what I can do. At the very least, I can order her to marry you. She is under Ben and Julia’s protection, after all.”

  Somehow, Phin didn’t think that plan would work all that well. Josie was her own woman, and would likely not take well to being forced to do anything.

  “I shall…do my best.” Phin had no idea what else to say.

  “See that you do.” Candlewood rose. “Oh, and it might help if you tell the girl you love her. I find that goes a very long way to soothing a lady’s hurt feelings.”

  “But I don’t love her.” At least Phin didn’t think he did.

  In response, the Bloody Duke rolled his eyes. “Of course, you do, you fool. You have from the night of Frost’s ball. Any idiot with eyes could see you very nearly panting all over her. She was little better when she looked at you. Love at first sight between the both of you if you ask me.” He sniffed. “Some matchmaker you are.”

  “Again, I will do my best where Lady Josie is concerned.” Phin wasn’t nearly as confident as Candlewood was about Josie forgiving him.

  The news this morning had devastated her, at least according to Lady Tabitha. In her heart, Josie might not believe Phin had deflowered Lady Margaretta – at least that was what Tabby had said earlier – but at the moment, the gossip surrounding the three of them was so intense that it wasn’t allowing Josie to think clearly. Josie, as Tabby had pointed out, had only just agreed to push aside her fears regarding gossip. This scandal coming so soon after that decision had now made Josie question everything.

  “If you fail?” Candlewood raised an eyebrow. “See if you can enlist the assistance of Lady Tabitha. She is friendly with Miss Marshwood, is she not?”

  “She is.” That came from Cilla.

  “She is also a bit of a blood-thirsty sort and has little tolerance for fools. Despises them actually and is not above using weaponry if the need arises. She might be able to offer some assistance in forcing Miss Marshwood to see reason.”

  The Bloody Duke punctuated his words with a toothy grin, making Phin wonder if he should be more worried about Lady Tabby than whatever the duke might be about this evening.

  “As I said, I will do my best.”

  This time, Candlewood’s smile was softer. Less intimidating. “Sometimes, as gentlemen, that is all we can do. We do what we can and hope for the best.”

  And none of that was really what Phin wished to hear.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “You are going to the ball this evening, and that is final!” Tabby stood behind Josie, jabbing pins into Josie’s hair as they both scowled into the mirror. “I will not have you throw away your future over a bit of gossip that isn’t true anyway!”

  At that, Josie bristled. “You don’t know that it’s not true.”

  “I do!” Tabby jabbed another pin into Josie’s hair, so hard this time that Josie flinched. “Sorry. But I am not in the least sorry about making you go to this ball. Lady Margaretta is a liar, and everyone knows it! Including you! Ask yourself, Josie, when, exactly, would he have had time to deflower that witch when he was far too busy deflowering you?”

  “Tabby!” Josie jumped up before Tabby could stab another pin into Josie’s hair. “You don’t know that. Nobody does!”

  “But you don’t deny it.” Tabby stood back, a smile of smug satisfaction on her face. “Tell m
e I’m wrong, Josie. I dare you.”

  Josie supposed she could deny being with Phin, but to what end? What purpose would it serve? None, she supposed, and if by some chance she was with child? The truth would come out anyway.

  Sinking back into her chair, Josie shrugged. “You are not wrong. I have been with Phin as a husband would be with a wife.” She paused. “More than once.”

  At that, Tabby’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head. “Truly? I mean I knew, or at least suspected, you had been together once, but more than that? You really are in love with the man, aren’t you?”

  “We are not in love,” Josie cautioned, holding up her hand as Tabby began to hop about the room in excitement. “We care for each other, but I do not love him, and he does not love me.”

  Tabby stopped and placed her hands on her hips. “Yes, you do love each other. The only people you are attempting to fool at this point are yourselves. But no matter.” She began rummaging about in Josie’s wardrobe. “The Bloody Duke is here, and he shall put this to rights.” Finally, she located Josie’s jewel case. “Now put on this diamond pendant and let us be off so we can get this whole mess cleared right up.”

  “Tabby?” Josie wondered if she even wished to know the answer to the question she was about to ask.

  “Yes?” Now her friend sounded hesitant.

  “How did you know Lord Candlewood was here?” It was Josie’s turn to put her hands on her hips.

  “Er, well, I saw him arrive.” Except that Tabby didn’t look completely convinced of her answer – and neither was Josie.

  “Tabby, is there something you’re not telling me?” Josie wasn’t certain she could take another surprise announcement at this point.

  The other woman shrugged. “There are a lot of things I am not telling a great many people, Josie. That includes you. I would tell you now, if I could, but I can’t. Please, you must trust me that this will all work out, and the truth will come out. Please. Have faith. Just come to the ball, and you will see.”