To Capture a Rake

by Lori Brighton

  A part of her appreciated his interest in their financial assets, another part of her wanted to scoop up the papers he read day after day, toss them into the fireplace, and demand he look at her. Truly look at her in that heated and thorough way he had before they’d married. Was he distancing himself? Or had he only been interested in the land and financing all along? She didn’t wish such traitorous thoughts, but they came anyway.

  She took her lower lip between her teeth and rested against the doorjamb, remaining purposefully silent as she watched him lean over the desk and scan a sheet of paper as if it held the very answers to life’s pressing problems.

  She wondered if it was hard for him to concentrate on paperwork, knowing at Lady Lavender’s they’d spent most of their time in more leisurely pursuits. She was desperate to know the extent of his knowledge on estate business, but he was a proud man who didn’t like to ask for help. An ember of compassion heated within the depths of her body. She knew only too well how difficult it was to rely on others.

  Dressed in clothing as fine as a lord, Gideon looked powerful. He looked like an earl, a prince. But underneath that cool façade was a dangerous man, and his dark looks only added to his mystery. Yes, the world might mistake him for a lord, but no one would think he was a gentleman. He was magnificent, and he was her husband. She’d been grateful and content to be with Mr. Ashton, but it hadn’t been a real marriage. Could it be real with Gideon? Only if he accepted his position in life, accepted her, accepted the fact that he had a family now.

  She pressed her hand to her lower belly. It should have been her time a week ago. Was she already with child? The thought thrilled and worried her all at once. Of course she’d always wanted children of her own, but what would he think? Their relationship was a precarious balance of give and take. She had a horrible feeling that it could topple over at any moment.

  Gideon sighed, rubbing his hands over his weary face. His jacket was thrown haphazardly upon the chair next to the fireplace, his shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows and his silver waistcoat unbuttoned. An elegant man at ease, except he looked anything but easy. There was an air of ruthless determination in his movements, as if he had a mission and would do whatever it took to see it through. Her hands curled as she resisted the urge to go to him and smooth down the wayward strands of his dark hair.

  “How much work did you do for your husband?”

  He’d startled her, and she stiffened. How long had he known she stood there? “What do you mean?”

  He held up a stack of missives. “Most of these papers are in your handwriting.”

  She flushed, unsure how much she should tell him, almost embarrassed by her talent. “I helped him with investments.”

  “Elizabeth,” he drawled out, finally glancing up at her.

  She sighed. “I found I had a knack, a special gift, for guessing which investments would be productive.”

  He set the papers down. “From the paperwork I’ve uncovered I’d say you saved this place.” He settled his hands on his flat belly. “The fortune is yours.”

  She wondered how he felt, knowing many men didn’t like bluestockings. Her gift with numbers was something she had discovered after marrying Mr. Ashton. He had been thrilled, but he wasn’t like most men.

  “No, it’s the family fortune.” She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her, not wishing to discuss money or investments. “Do you plan to leave us?”

  Gideon frowned. His gaze quickly scanned her form in that same thorough way he always did, a look that was highly inappropriate, yet she highly missed. A way that left her heated and breathless. Would she ever feel normal again now that she’d known true passion? She hoped not. Elizabeth started across the room toward him.

  “Do you?”

  He leaned back in his chair, studying her with a casual disregard. He was deceptively calm, and she knew by now that when Gideon was too relaxed he was the most emotional. “What do you mean?”

  Elizabeth forced herself not to smile. He might feign indifference, but she could see the wary emotion in his gaze. Perhaps the coldness was there not because he didn’t care but because he cared too much.

  “We’ve been married three days now.”

  He pushed the pile of papers together, making neat stacks in a play of being busy. She knew the truth; he merely wanted to avoid her gaze. “And…is that special in some way?”

  Elizabeth didn’t bother to dwell on the sting of hurt but merely sighed. “No. It’s just…you’re not making an effort to join our family. You stay locked away in here all day, every day. The…the children are asking after you. They miss you.”

  I miss you.

  His beautiful face had turned hard as stone. “Surely you must have known this would not be a typical marriage. I gave no indication it would be so.”

  Her heart cracked, threatening to shatter. No! He’d come so far, given her so much hope, he couldn’t return to that hard, unfeeling man he’d been. “And does that mean you will no longer be sharing my bed?”

  His jaw clenched, those lashes lowering. He might not wish to care about her, but he still wanted her, she could see that in the furiously beating pulse at the side of his neck. She sure as hell wasn’t above using his attraction to get what she wanted.

  “Do I bore you already?”

  “No,” he whispered harshly.

  The pain in his gaze nearly did her in. Why? Why must he deny what they had together? It was magical, did he not see it? She did not question how or why she had been lucky enough to receive all that she had. Her dreams, her hopes were so closely within reach, she would not give up now.

  “Then what is it?” She moved closer to him, her pink muslin gown swooshing across the carpet. “It could be normal, you know. Our life together. It could be a real marriage.”

  If only you’d believe. If only you’d trust me.

  He sighed and stood, pacing to the fireplace, where a cheerful blaze glowed. When he didn’t respond? She wondered if maybe he didn’t want a real marriage after all. Maybe he had taken vows for the money and status. Was that gallant lad who had protected his mother and tried so desperately to save his family still there?

  “Are you leaving?” she demanded once more. “I deserve to know. The children deserve to know the truth.”

  “I don’t plan on it.”

  She sank back against the desk, her knees weak with relief. “Then why not try to have a true marriage? Do you not care for me? Do you not trust me?” She was vaguely aware that her words were coming out so fast, they sounded mumbled, but she felt as if her hopes and dreams were slipping like sand through her fingers. “If not, your trust and care could grow. We are truly stuck with each other, Gideon, it would benefit—”

  “I care for you,” he said so softly that it felt like a caress.

  She released a shaky breath but didn’t dare move for fear that he would disappear and take his words with him. Gideon cared for her. He didn’t love her, but it was enough for now.

  “Elizabeth.” He turned to face her, his silver gaze so full of heated emotion that her entire body thrummed with the desire to be closer to him. “You seem to thrive on the delusion that Lady Lavender will not protest my leaving.”

  She swallowed over the fear clogging her throat. “You think she’ll come here?”

  “I know she will.”

  Elizabeth reached one of the leather chairs near the fireplace and leaned against it for support. They had too many enemies as it was, they didn’t need another. She had hoped, prayed that this would all end with their marriage, that Lady Lavender would heed her threats. But as she had assumed, the woman was much more complicated than she portrayed.

  “And you think she will—”

  “She won’t leave without me.” He closed his eyes, cringing as if in pain. “She won’t let me go. Do you know how many times I tried to escape? They didn’t take my stubbornness well.”

  Elizabeth felt ill. What had they done to him? Not only would they const
antly have to worry about the dowager, but now Lady Lavender as well? Would they never be free? Suddenly, instead of hopeful, the future seemed filled with a great open void of misery. “We will win. Perhaps when Mr. Smith arrives he’ll have news.”

  “The man who was supposed to be back already?”

  He’d hit upon her fear. No, it didn’t bode well that Mr. Smith still hadn’t returned and she’d already sent footmen to ask over his welfare. Damn Gideon, why couldn’t he pull her close and offer her the comfort she so needed, instead of feeding her fears? “Perhaps he’s found a lead.”

  Gideon snorted.

  Angry and annoyed by his cutting disregard, she stomped toward him, so close the fire was warm upon her arms. “Then we run!”

  His hard features told her that he was just as furious with her. “I will not force you to leave your home. But I hope…eventually, to take care of not only the dowager’s threats but Lady Lavender’s as well. There must be something, anything we can use, and we will find it.”

  Her anger faded. “I thought you were researching the lands, but you’re not.”

  He actually averted his gaze. “No. I’m trying to find clues.”

  She didn’t have the heart to tell him that they’d already searched the area thoroughly. Not only had they found very little in the house, but Mr. Smith had found nothing they could use either. How did he plan to stop Lady Lavender?

  She couldn’t imagine life without him, and she sure as bloody hell couldn’t imagine him bedding woman after woman. No, he belonged to her now, and if there was one thing she’d learned while living in the worst rookery of London, it was to guard what was yours with your life. “So you’ll return with her when she comes for you?”

  He lowered his lashes. “No.”

  Her relief was short-lived.

  “Not alive.”

  Elizabeth’s angry determination faded into something all the more despondent. They were a sad pair indeed, she constantly fighting death and he welcoming it. “All this time you’ve assumed you would die.”

  He didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to. Gideon…dead. No, she couldn’t imagine it. No. He was too…too strong, too sure of himself, too full of life and vitality. She couldn’t imagine him gone because then her days would go back to what they had been, a dull and pale reflection of life.

  “Let’s leave. Go to America…Australia…anywhere.” She gripped his hand in hers. “We can start over anywhere, Gideon. Somewhere we’d all be safe.”

  “Elizabeth.” Her name came out like a sigh. She could read the hesitation in his voice. Damn him, sometimes a person had to run; there was no shame in surviving. “We can’t.”

  “No!” She tore away from him, stumbling back a step. They stood only a few feet apart, still so close his musky scent swirled around her. Yet it felt as if he’d constructed a wall around himself. An island on an uncharted ocean. Did he not understand that they could win if only they worked together? “It’s the perfect solution!”

  “Henry can’t abandon his inheritance.” He turned away from her and paced across the room. “We can’t constantly hide. There will always be more threats; we will never be able to stop. I know what it’s like to never have a home. I won’t do that to you, or the children.”

  “Then what?” Damn it, she didn’t want to fight with him, she wanted him to see reason. He acted as if they should merely stand their ground and wait for the ax to fall. Well, she wouldn’t accept such a fate. “We can leave if it means we’ll all be safe. We could be happy.”

  He paused in the middle of the room. “Elizabeth—”

  “Damn it, Gideon.” She refused to back down. “I don’t want you injured or worse!”

  “Why?” he asked. No, demanded.

  His jaw was clenched, his hands fisted at his sides. Pride demanded she keep her mouth shut. After all, why tell him of her feelings when he hadn’t even spent the last three nights in her bed? She was setting herself up for a long, hard fall. Yet, her heart pleaded with her to be honest for once in her blasted life. He needed her honesty, he needed her.

  “You know why,” she replied softly.

  “Why, Elizabeth?”

  He stared at her with an intensity that made her uneasy. Dear God, he didn’t just want her heart on a platter, he wanted her soul. “Because…I care about you.”

  “Why?”

  He didn’t look away, daring her to speak the truth. She knew if she didn’t tell him now, she would forever regret it. Why must she always give, give, give? But when she saw the torment in his eyes, her anger fled and only warmth remained. She knew without doubt that he desperately needed to hear the words, even more than she did.

  “I love you,” she said without hesitation.

  The clock ticked slowly upon the mantel. He stood as still as a statue. Didn’t even blink. She knew he’d heard her, but he didn’t act as if he had. He didn’t make a bloody sound. But she could read the truth in his gaze. No, his eyes never lied. Despair, worry, anger…hope. Yes, there, shimmering in the back behind the gray and blue of his eyes lay hope.

  “I can’t stop thinking about you,” she whispered brokenly. “Everything seems brighter, more alive when you’re here.”

  “We’ve only known each other three weeks,” he said in exasperation.

  “I know, but it doesn’t seem to matter. Gideon, I feel as if I’ve known you forever.” She stepped hesitantly closer to him, afraid of scaring him off. “And you know more about me than anyone else. You know all of me…the good, the bad.”

  He closed his eyes, as if fighting his inner demons. She didn’t want him to fight. She wanted him to accept what he felt, accept what had been given to them.

  Yes, he knew everything about her but one…“I’m going to have a baby.”

  His eyes burst open. “What?”

  She pressed her hands to her flat belly. “At least I…I think I am. I’m late, and I’m never late.”

  Gideon had gone pale. The very man who was always in control suddenly seemed lost. Elizabeth wasn’t sure if she wanted to give him a hug or laugh over his utterly shocked expression. She pressed her fingertips to her lips, hiding her grin.

  “A…baby?” His voice came out raspy, his eyes wide and haunted.

  Her smile fell. Not exactly the reaction one wanted from a husband. She nodded. For a long, tense moment, neither of them said a word. The only sound was the crackle of the fireplace, the roar of blood pounding in her ears. A soft knock sounded on the door, startling them both.

  “My lord,” Will called out. “We found him.”

  Elizabeth wasn’t sure who “he” was, but the man must have been important, because the shocked look on Gideon’s face turned into one of pure rage. She didn’t have time to question him, for Gideon was already heading toward the door.

  “Gideon?”

  “I can’t talk about this right now,” he muttered.

  He was out the door before she had time to call him back. For one long moment Elizabeth merely stood there, stunned. What could be more important than a baby? A shiver of unease spurred her forward. Desperate, Elizabeth scooped up her skirts and raced after the man who was her husband.

  She spotted his broad back just ahead with Will at his side. “Gideon, who did you find?”

  “No one.”

  He turned a corner, disappearing from sight, but Will was slower. Elizabeth reached the lad and sank her fingers into his brown jacket, jerking him to a stop. “Will,” Elizabeth snapped. “Who?”

  Will paused but glanced toward Gideon like a puppy longing for its master. She sighed, annoyed. The boy had already tossed her aside for the manly lord of the house. She should have been highly offended, and a part of her was, but she was also reluctantly relieved they had accepted Gideon so readily.

  “Who, Will?” She left no room for argument in the tone of her voice.

  He rubbed the back of his neck, grimacing. “The man who shot at you.”

  Elizabeth shook her head, confused. “I
thought he was imprisoned?”

  “He is, but we found his friend, the one who worked with the dowager.”

  “Will,” Gideon’s voice snapped out, echoing down the hall, and like a good little lapdog, Will raced after the man, leaving Elizabeth standing there worried and stunned.

  Gideon had been looking for the man? He did care. He’d been trying to protect them all along. Oh God, if he would have murdered the dowager without conscience, he’d have no qualms about killing his man. Elizabeth hiked up her skirts and raced after them.

  She could hear the shouted curse words of a man irate as she rounded the corner and headed into the entryway. Two footmen were doing their hardest to hold onto a disheveled lad who seemed vaguely familiar. Had she seen the young man in town? Elizabeth paused near the railing of the staircase. His speech was slurred, his hair mussed. Although his cheeks were still round with youth, he was old enough to be considered a man.

  His heated gaze found her. “Bitch!”

  She stiffened, startled by his hatred.

  “She’s the reason Lord Collins fired me!”

  Her husband had fired this man? “I don’t…” Suddenly, it came surging back. Over a year ago she’d caught him taking advantage of a maid who had most assuredly not appreciated his slobbery kisses and roaming hands. Oh God, he’d been more than happy to assist the dowager in planning her demise, it was his way to get revenge.

  “Mr. Miller,” Elizabeth whispered.

  “She’s the bitch!”

  “Silence,” Gideon demanded, and the man fell quiet because everyone listened to Gideon. The entire household paused, from the footmen holding him to the housemaids peeking from the rooms. Nervous anticipation was thick in the air. “Who hired you?”

  “Not bloody well tellin’ ye anything.” Mr. Miller glared at Gideon, but Elizabeth didn’t miss the flicker of unease in his dark gaze. She had a feeling things would not go well for him, and he seemed to agree.