To Love a Libertine

by LeFey, Liana

  Now it was her turn to laugh. “I should hope so, because I have no intention of sharing.”

  His smile returned, but only briefly. “Eden, there is so much I have to tell you, so much you need to know.”

  “Not tonight,” she begged, running her hands across the slight roughness of his cheeks and putting a finger across his lips. “This is our wedding night. You can tell me everything tomorrow.” She leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. “Or perhaps the day after that.” She did it again. “Or maybe next week…”

  “Wanton woman,” he laughed, pulling her onto his lap.

  So absorbed was she in learning the finer points of kissing her husband that Eden did not even notice when their conveyance came to a stop. The door opened, and she let out a squeak of dismay, wrenching her skirts back down. Her cheeks were aflame as she stepped out and pointedly ignored the stone-faced footman holding the door open for her.

  Perfect. The servants’ first impression of their new mistress was of a lustful wench. Against her will, Eden’s lips curved up just a little. He’d called her a wanton woman. She supposed it was only fitting that The Terror of the Ton should marry such.

  “Lady Tavistoke’s luggage is to be placed in my chamber,” commanded Percy, sweeping her past the man. “Tell the staff introductions are to be postponed until morning, due to the late hour.”

  The door opened, and a dour looking man took her husband’s cloak and then her own. Eden marked that he did not even bat an eyelash at her presence.

  “Eden, this is Seamus, my valet,” said Percy. “Seamus, this is Lady Tavistoke.”

  A single brow lifted, and the man bowed low. “It is my pleasure to serve you, Madam.”

  She nodded in response. There was so much blood in her face and ears she wondered if there was any left anywhere else in her body.

  “My lord, shall I have a bath readied?”

  Eden’s heart fluttered as her husband looked at her with burning eyes. Oh, yes. There was blood elsewhere in her body, throbbing in all the places she wanted him to touch. Wanton indeed.

  “Not just now, Seamus,” was Percy’s reply as he gestured for her to go ahead of him up the stairs. “We’ll want hot water and something to eat in precisely an hour and a half, but you will send for my solicitor at once and tell him to bring all he needs in order to draw up legal documents.”

  “But my lord, it is—”

  “I know the hour,” snapped her husband. “I don’t care if he must be dragged from his bed by the ankles. He is to come here at once. I pay the man to be at my disposal whenever I need him, and I need him now. You will fetch me the moment he arrives.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “In the morning, should I manage to get any sleep this night, I am to be awakened at the sixth hour. I have an early appointment. Lay out the dark blue jacket, and be sure the driver is ready to leave when I am.”

  So little time!

  The thought that Percy might be taken from her in the morning lent urgency to Eden’s steps. She vowed this night would live perfectly preserved in both their memories until death took them, whether it was tomorrow or fifty years from now. She prayed it would be the latter.

  Their lovemaking was both tender and tempestuous. Already liberated of her maidenhead, Eden felt no reticence, no inhibition. She gave her passion free reign, denying him and herself nothing. She declined no pleasure offered, but reveled in each new sensation. Nothing was forbidden her now.

  As she lay gasping for breath after again being brought to climax by her husband’s skilled tongue, she reflected that rakes did indeed make the best husbands. The stray thought wrung unexpected laughter from her.

  Percy rose up to plant himself between her thighs and lifted a brow in inquiry.

  “I was just thinking how very naïve I was when we first met,” she said, blushing yet again.

  “You’re still quite naïve, but I’ll soon remedy that,” he teased, grasping her hips. “Now—no more thinking.”

  She moaned as he slid into her slick passage in one long, slow stroke. Every inch of her husband was delicious, especially the ones buried deep inside her.

  It was the last coherent thought he permitted her.

  …

  Percy woke with a groan, blinking at the light held up by his valet. “Bloody hell, Seamus,” he muttered. “Is it time already?”

  “’Tis, my lord,” affirmed the man, setting the lamp down on the table beside the bed.

  Thanks to vigorous lovemaking followed by the tedious preparation of legal documents securing both Eden’s future and that of her irksome family, Percy had gotten only a few hours’ rest. It would have to do. Careful not to wake Eden, he swung his legs over and stood.

  Looking down at his wife, he strove to memorize every detail of her face. The lamp cast a warm glow over her still form, illuminating features become so dear to him as to inspire tender pain on sight. She was innocent in many ways, yet had taken to bed sport with absolute abandon as he’d known she would from the first time he’d kissed her.

  My wife. His gaze lit upon her naked hand, which lay curled beside her head on the pillow. His ring, too large by far for her delicate fingers, lay on the bedside table where she’d left it the night before. Going to his armoire, he quietly took out the sapphire-and-diamond ring he’d purchased at Hennell’s and brought it back. Bending, he brushed a lock of lustrous golden hair away from her face.

  Her lashes fluttered, and she opened her eyes to look up at him. “You are leaving?”

  “Yes. With luck, I should be back here before breakfast is on the table.” He sat beside her and took up her hand to kiss it. As he lowered it, he slid the ring onto her finger. “Much better,” he said, smiling. “I’ve been waiting to give it to you for weeks.”

  Clutching the sheet to her bosom, she pulled herself into a sitting position and for a moment admired the shining symbol of her wedded state. “It’s beautiful.”

  “When I return, I shall take you to find fitting accompaniments for it,” he promised.

  Her eyes misted at the reminder of what lay between now and that happy event. “I will not say I shan’t fret,” she told him. “I shall be unable to rest until you are safe in my arms again.” Leaning up, she laid a palm against his cheek and kissed him softly. “Do what you must and then return to me.”

  “I will.” It was a vow he intended to keep. Unabashed by his nakedness, he walked to the dressing room and proceeded to prepare for his confrontation with Ravenwood—and Wells. He tried to relax as Seamus shaved him, but despite having declined coffee he still felt jittery.

  I’m nervous. At first, it came as a bit of a shock, but on closer self-examination he understood why he was so on edge about the coming battle. Prior to now, he’d only had himself to worry about. Now he had Eden and possibly a child, though he wouldn’t know for some time. He had more reason than ever to want to live.

  As he donned his garments, he tried to clear his mind of all distraction. He couldn’t think about Eden now. Survival must be his primary consideration.

  He’d chosen swords over pistols deliberately. A duel with pistols would’ve been a death sentence for both him and his enemy, as both were crack shots. At least with blades there was a good chance one of them would live. Having practiced every day for a decade without fail, Percy was confident he was the better swordsman.

  There was, of course, the possibility Ravenwood might change his mind once he heard what he had to say. A lot would depend on whether or not the man chose to listen. After stopping at Montgomery’s house to pick him up, he told his friend his plan. “Think you it’ll work?”

  Montgomery pulled at his chin. “If you can get him to hear you. I doubt Wells will be willing to set aside the code, considering his stake in this, though I could attempt to distract him.”

  “Do what you can. If not, then I will do what I must.”

  “A bit different now, is it not?”

  “What do you mean?”

&
nbsp; “Facing your mortality when you have someone else to consider,” said Montgomery, a knowing look in his eyes. “Some men say marriage doesn’t change them. They’re right. It’s not marriage but love that alters a man’s perceptions and reactions.”

  Love. He did love Eden. And I haven’t told her. He would have done—he’d contemplated it, but knew if he died this day it would only make it that much harder on her.

  “Already you’ve begun to change,” observed his friend. “You’ll mark it in many small ways over time. I was a reckless fool before meeting Sabrina, but no man should make the mistake of thinking she has tamed me. I’m merely more cautious for her sake because I love her and don’t wish to cause her pain.”

  Percy nodded. “A man’s priorities should naturally shift when he marries. After all, it is his duty to protect his wife.”

  “Indeed. Even if it be from himself.” Montgomery looked out of the window. “We’re slowing.”

  Peering out, Percy saw the eastern sky was a deep peacock blue with streaks of red and amber just above the horizon. “Good, we’re a bit early. Ravenwood is already here, as well. I can see the lamps on his carriage.”

  “Which means you’ll have time to try and make him see reason. I’ll occupy Wells.”

  Within a moment of the carriage’s coming to a stop, they were out and striding across the mist-shrouded field.

  “Eager to cross swords today, are we, Tavistoke?” said Wells as he approached.

  “Not particularly,” Percy answered in a bored tone. “As it happens, I’ve just left the considerable comforts of my marriage bed. I would prefer to be quick about this so I may return forthwith.”

  “So you did it after all, you married the little coquette?”

  Percy turned to face him. “I did, and in the future I advise you to have a care how you speak of Lady Tavistoke.”

  To his satisfaction, Wells fell back a step, rightly interpreting the chill in his voice. “I crave your pardon,” said the man, bowing. “Have you your blade?”

  “Montgomery has it.”

  At that moment, Montgomery came up and began to engage the man in conversation.

  Glancing at the sky, Percy made his way over to where Ravenwood stood removing his coat in preparation for combat. “Ravenwood, a word with you in private,” he murmured, removing his own coat.

  “Save your breath,” replied the man. “I’ve nothing to say to you.”

  “You need say nothing. I ask only that you listen.”

  Ravenwood shrugged. “I care not if you wish to unburden yourself before you die.”

  Despite the stakes, Percy couldn’t help smiling in admiration of the man’s bravado. “I know Wells put you up to courting Eden, and I know why you did his bidding.” Leaning close, he murmured the name of the brothel Ravenwood frequented, a secret name otherwise known only to a very select clientele.

  Ravenwood’s hands stilled. “How…?”

  Percy smiled coldly. “I have many eyes about town. And I’m guessing I’m not the only one who knows what you’ve been up to,” he added, nodding toward the other two men.

  Ravenwood’s Adam’s apple bobbed hard before he whispered back, “Wells came to me at the beginning of the Season, and he has held me hostage ever since. You must believe I never intended to harm her,” he added, the words tumbling over one another in his haste to explain. “I needed her in order to present an acceptable face to the world.”

  “And stealing her from me would have been the perfect way to perpetuate that façade.”

  “Just so.” The other man’s eyes betrayed his terror, as did his next words. “I would rather die now than face a trial. You know what they’ll do to me.”

  “Would you not rather keep both your life and your secret?”

  Ravenwood licked his lips and glanced again over at Wells, who was currently occupied with examining their blades while Montgomery talked a steady stream. “Of course, but I don’t see how it can happen.”

  “Tell me everything you know about Wells. You can start with how he came to possess such information.”

  Percy attended carefully as Ravenwood spoke fast in a hushed voice. Wells, in addition to frequenting the same brothel, was also a client of the Temple of Aurora. His stomach knotted as the man told him of Wells’s boast of having just acquired from the Aurora’s unknown proprietress a virginal girl of ten.

  “Only just?” Percy demanded. “When?”

  His former rival frowned. “A week ago he complained he’d paid for her some time past, but there was a problem—the Aurora had to move, and it delayed her delivery.”

  “Address,” Percy bit out. When the man did not immediately answer, he moved another inch closer.

  Ravenwood’s face paled. “I don’t frequent the Aurora—it’s not my—”

  “Not the brothel, the house where he’s keeping her.” Percy narrowed his gaze. “I know Wells enough to know he doesn’t share his toys. He’s got her stowed somewhere private. Where?”

  Glancing nervously toward the other two men again, Ravenwood shook his head a little. “I don’t—”

  “Yes, you do.” Percy’s pulse pounded in his ears. A glance east showed a deep orange sun beginning to peek above the horizon. There was little time. “You’d have wanted whatever leverage possible against him, which means you had him watched. Now tell me where he’s keeping her.”

  The other man licked his lips and shot another telltale glance at Wells. “If he finds out, he’ll send—”

  “And I’ll rip out your throat now if you don’t tell me what I want to know.”

  Something of the savagery he was barely managing to control must have come through in his flatly spoken statement, because Ravenwood capitulated at once and gave him the address.

  Percy stared him down. “If I find you’ve lied to me…”

  “She’s there,” said Ravenwood, looking even more miserable. “One of the men I have posted in the house came and told me she arrived last night. The rest of the servants all think she’s his illegitimate get.”

  Last night? Which meant the bastard likely hadn’t yet… “Listen carefully,” Percy told him. “After a suitable interval, I’ll disarm you and agree to spare your life if you will agree never to revisit our quarrel or reveal our discussion. We will both walk away.”

  The other man shook his head. “He has threatened my exposure if I don’t kill you or die in the attempt. If I let you leave this field alive, my life is forfeit.”

  “You have my word he won’t make good his threat.”

  A look of undisguised doubt entered Ravenwood’s eyes. “I believe you to be a man of honor, but how can you guarantee another man’s actions?”

  “In this particular instance, I assure you I can.”

  The other man’s expression became wry. “Somehow, I doubt asking how you’ll achieve such a thing will elicit an answer.”

  Percy remained silent.

  “Very well,” said Ravenwood. “But if it appears Wells cannot be muzzled, I’ll not allow myself to be taken. I’ll shoot myself first.”

  A prickle ran up Percy’s spine. “That is your decision to make. For my part, I’ll do all I can to ensure his silence.” And he would. Wells would be offered a choice: leave England quietly or face justice and a public hanging.

  Though he disliked the idea of letting this degenerate walk away, Percy disliked the idea of Wells getting away far more. At least Ravenwood’s vices were indulged with consenting adults. “Are we agreed then?” he asked, as out of the corner of his eye he spied the other two men breaking apart.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ravenwood’s nod was miniscule. “The sun rises,” he said, raising his voice as Wells and Montgomery approached.

  “It does indeed,” Percy replied.

  Wells’s gaze flicked between them and came to rest on Percy. “Are you determined then, not to ask pardon for your abuses of yesterday?”

  “I’ve said I will offer no apology,” he answered. “And t
o that I hold. My cause is just, and I will be vindicated. Let us delay this no longer.”

  “Agreed.” Ravenwood moved toward Wells to take his sword.

  As he took his own blade, Percy murmured to Montgomery, “Number four Crown Court. Tell Loxdon that Wells is keeping a young girl there, possibly the one for whom we’ve been searching.”

  Montgomery nodded and backed away. “The usual distance, gentlemen,” he said, joining Wells.

  As he turned, Percy saw Wells nod slowly at Ravenwood with eyes like twin stones. Their message was clear: kill his adversary or there would be hell to pay. Ravenwood’s face was inscrutable as he turned to face the field.

  Though he’d reached a gentlemen’s agreement with the man, Percy was no fool to throw caution to the wind. He approached this battle as if their discussion hadn’t taken place for, indeed, he didn’t trust Ravenwood. He’d honor his part of their bargain, if at all possible, but if it came to it and he was hard-pressed, he’d not hold back.

  Following the obligatory salute, they began to circle, each combatant finding his footing, learning the terrain. Percy had done this countless times in this exact spot, yet he treated it as if it were the first. Complacency was a man’s deadliest enemy.

  Ravenwood lunged. Percy parried the thrust at his midsection and countered with a swipe across his opponent’s line of sight, his slightly longer reach providing him an advantage. The other man flinched back and brought up his blade to parry a subsequent feint to his left side.

  Around and around they circled, testing each other’s reflexes, looking for patterns and weaknesses to exploit. Percy made sure to give him none. After about a quarter of an hour, he had a good fix on his adversary’s style.

  He’s quick, but his parries are slightly wide, a waste of motion.

  He launched a flurry of attacks with the intent of gauging just how large an opening he could expect. Once his curiosity was satisfied, he retreated.

  Ravenwood’s face was pinched now. In his eyes lived the comprehension that defeating his enemy would be nigh on impossible.