by Kit Tunstall
He looked wounded. “I had nothing to do with that ridiculous wager, Lady Stanhope. As for your inheritance, it would not matter to me if you had not a pound to your name.”
She grimaced. “There is no way to prove that, sir.” Rebecca tried to bite her tongue, knowing it was stupid to sabotage his proposal. Yet, the thought of being his wife and sharing his bed nauseated her. She could not accept him.
He took her hand again. “I must have you.”
“I would refuse any offer, so do not waste your time.” She snatched her hand from his and marched away. She paused to glance over her shoulder, catching the dark look he sent her before he turned and strode from the ballroom.
Rebecca stopped near a pillar, using it for support. She took a deep breath, then another, before her heart stopped racing. The confrontation with William Bradleaf had her rattled.
“I see you have a taste for rakes.”
Her heart skipped a beat, and she whipped around to glare at Alex. “Must you creep up on me?”
He ignored her question. “You seem to have angered Bradleaf. I have heard he has a most unpleasant temperament. Among gentlemen, such tales run rampant.” Alex glanced off in the distance. “He is said to have peculiar tastes, and many brothels will not serve him because of damage inflicted to their girls. He is dangerous, Rebecca. Not just to soiled doves, but to the foolish and naïve of society, as well.”
“Interesting that he was just saying much the same about you.”
Alex arched a brow. “Warning you off, was he?”
She shrugged. “And proposing.”
His light-blue eyes turned frigid. “Are congratulations in order?”
“Of course not. He is much too insistent for my tastes.” She shuddered. “I suspect he is one of the fools behind the wager circulating throughout the city.”
His expression warmed. “Ah, yes. Who shall capture the lady and penetrate her icy shell?” His voice lowered to a whispered breath across her bare neck. “We both know the answer to that, do we not, m'lady?”
She stiffened. “I thought we had an arrangement. My silence for yours?”
He waved a hand at the clustered groups. “None are near. Only your ears and mine hear of what I speak.”
Rebecca moved away as he moved closer. “I do not care to be reminded of the incident.”
He chuckled. “Tell me, do you waltz?”
“Upon occasion.” She gasped when he took her hand. “No, I…not here, with you.”
“Smile and pretend you are fond of me, m'lady.” He swept her onto the dance floor as the music for the waltz began. Most of the older couples had stopped dancing, but the younger ones threw themselves enthusiastically into the dance.
She held onto him as they spun around the floor, carefully following his footsteps. “Mama does not approve of this dance, so I have had little opportunity to try it,” she said the third time she trod on his dress shoes.
“You are doing fine. Do not concentrate on the steps so much. Look in my eyes and let your body feel the rhythm of mine.”
A blush swept across her cheeks as she immediately thought of a different type of rhythm. Their gazes locked, and time seemed to stop at that moment. She was aware of moving around the floor, but wasn't sure how they managed. All she could feel was his solid presence so close to her. She could smell him—this time a heady aroma of sandalwood and something unique to him that reminded her of their last time together.
“You learn quickly.”
She nodded, tearing her eyes from his. Rebecca took a deep breath as she realized how hot it was in the room. She took her hand from his shoulder to flick open her fan.
He frowned down at her. “Are you alright, m'lady?”
“It is unbearably hot in here.”
“Fresh air,” he decreed, leading her from the dance floor to the gardens outside. He pulled her down onto a stone bench beside him and handed her his handkerchief.
She blotted the perspiration from her face as she sucked in air. Nausea welled up, and she struggled to force it down. Rebecca continued to fan herself until she had a tenuous mastery of her body once more. “I apologize if we were a spectacle.”
Alex shrugged. “It is unimportant. Are you feeling better now?”
She gave him a wan smile. “I think I shall retire early once more. I see it was unwise to venture out tonight while feeling poorly.”
“I shall see that your sister is informed, as it would not be proper for me to escort you home two nights in a row.”
Rebecca looked up at him, sensing he wasn't being honest. His words made sense, but there was a sense of falseness to them, as if he had other reasons besides what society might think for avoiding the task. Did he wish to avoid spending more time in her company? Was she so unpleasant?
She pushed back her hurt. “There is no need. I will find her myself.” She stood, intent on hurrying from his presence, but a wave of dizziness caught her by surprise. “Oh, my.”
“What is it?”
“I do believe—” Before Rebecca could sit down, she felt herself falling, but didn't reach the hard stone ground before fainting.
Chapter 10
The first thing Rebecca noticed as she came around was the jostling of the carriage. She blinked open her eyes and found herself looking into Alex's blue ones. They were filled with concern and something else until he realized she was watching. They returned to their normal watchful state, minus any emotions. “What happened?” Her throat felt dry.
“You fainted at the Drendens,” Elizabeth said.
She tried to sit up and noticed she had been lying across Alex's lap. He helped her into a sitting position braced against the seats. “I cannot imagine what happened.”
“No doubt you became overexcited from the waltz.” Elizabeth's mouth pursed in disapproval. “I hope you realize now Mama was correct about the dangers of that dance.”
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes and forced a bland smile. “I am feeling better now.” She turned her head to frown at Alex. “Thank you for accompanying us.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why have you?”
Philip and Elizabeth immediately made apologetic sounds, but he ignored them. “I found myself seated in the carriage after carrying you from the Drendens’ ball, without quite realizing how it happened.”
“Oh,” she said in a small voice. When would she stop torturing herself, hoping he would admit to some small measure of feeling for her? The carriage stopped before she could humiliate herself further. Elizabeth and Philip climbed out, and Rebecca tried to ease past Alex, frowning when he put his arm up to block her. ”Let me pass.”
“I will carry you.”
“There is no need.”
“Please let him, Rebecca. I do not want you to take another tumble.”
She frowned at her sister. ”I got overheated and nothing more. I am in no danger.”
He exited the carriage, then leaned in and lifted her onto his shoulder.
She gasped with outrage, kicking her legs against him. Her eyes widened when he slapped her bottom. ”How dare you?”
“Relax, m'lady.” He sounded unconcerned as he lugged her inside with all the care he might show a sack of flour.
To her surprise, he didn't lower her to her feet on the landing. “You may put me down now.”
”Where is your room?”
“You are not carrying me to bed.”
He swung around to Elizabeth. “Where are her chambers?”
“On the second floor—the third door on the left.”
Rebecca could see her sister clutching her hands together if she craned her neck around. “Make him unhand me, Elizabeth.”
“It is for the best if you do not tax yourself.”
She grunted. “Why do you never listen to me?”
“I am certain Lady Rebecca would appreciate a nice cup of tea,” Alex said as he began to climb.
Elizabeth inclined her head and hurried into the kitchen, leaving a bewildered Philip behind.
/> Rebecca struggled to pull away as he carried her into her chamber. “Nora!”
“There is no need to wake your maid.”
“Companion,” she snapped. A small sound of surprise issued from her when he dropped her on the maroon silk coverlet. “Nora will assist me. You may leave.”
“I will stay until your sister arrives.”
“There is no need…” She trailed off, looking into his pale face. Was she imagining things, or were his hands trembling? “What is it?”
“Are you ill, Rebecca?”
She blinked at him, bemused by his evident concern. “Not overly so.”
He sat on the bed beside her, gripping her arms. “Are you or are you not?”
Rebecca touched his leg, feeling his bunched muscle slowly loosen. “I shall be fine.”
He sucked in a deep breath. “What is wrong with you?”
She slid her eyes from his to the door connecting her room to Nora's. Where was she? “I will recover in time. Now, you really must leave.”
“Rebecca.” He wore a determined expression.
She twisted her hands together. “It is better for you not to know.”
Alex released his hold on her arms. “Oh, God.” His breath hissed through his teeth. “Why did you not tell me on board the Margaret you were ill? I never would have allowed you to make that foolish bargain if I had known.”
“I was not ill at that time. The symptoms are more recent.”
“Have you seen a physician?”
She shook her head.
“Right. I shall send for my private physician immediately.”
She put a hand on his. “There is no need. I know the cause.”
“Well, tell me, for pity's sake.”
She dared to meet his eyes again, seeing them boring into her. He was annoyed, but also worried. She took a deep breath, preparing herself. “Your methods were not as effective as you thought.”
He looked confused. “Pardon?”
She dropped her head, squeezing the hand under hers. “I am with child.” Complete silence greeted her announcement. She dared to peek at him and frowned, seeing his flabbergasted expression. His mouth hung open, and he had stiffened. “It is yours,” she whispered.
His brow furrowed, and a flush swept across his cheeks. “Of course it is. I did not think otherwise.” A half-smile curved across his lips. “You would not want another in your bed after I had pleasured you.”
Rebecca bit back a sniff at his arrogant words. Exhaustion was catching up with her quickly, and she suddenly wanted him to be gone. “You may leave now that you have been assured of my health,” she said dismissively.
He stared at her as if she had gone mad. “I am supposed to walk out of here and leave you to deal with the consequences of my actions?”
She moved her hand from his, toying with the reticule still hanging from her wrist. “I thought that would please you.”
“It would be dishonorable to abandon you in such a condition.” His mouth tightened. “We shall wed.”
“No.”
“What?”
“I shan't marry for anything other than love.” She gasped when he cupped her still-flat stomach. “What are you doing?”
“Your option of marrying for love is not available any longer, m'lady.” He squeezed gently. “He changes that.”
“He?”
“My son.”
She frowned at him. “And if she is a girl? Would you still insist on marriage?”
“It is a matter of honor.” There was a stubborn set to his shoulders.
She shook her head.
“I will not accept no, Rebecca. You will become my wife as soon as possible.”
She burst into tears, and then nearly fell from the bed as he slapped her on the back. “Why did you hit me?” she blubbered amid tears.
He sighed again. “I was offering you comfort.”
Rebecca wiped her face on the long sleeve of her pink gown. “Do so more gently in future, m'lord.”
“Why are you crying?”
“Everyone will know why we wed so hastily,” she whispered. “I cannot bear the scandal.”
He shrugged. “Gossip will wane, Rebecca. I shall apply for a special license, and we will marry in three days. None will know of the event until you are settled in my home. We will not affix a date to the ceremony. If any ask, you shall tell them we wed in London during my last trip, but you wished to spend a few weeks with your sister upon your arrival.”
She shook her head. “Who will believe that?”
His chin tilted. “I shall ensure no rumors reach your ears, m'lady. There are few who would contradict me if I were to announce the sun is blue and the moon is pink. Money and social position buys complicity and discretion.” His mouth twisted. “It can also buy silence.”
“You are so cynical.” She leaned away from him. “How can we form a bond built on love and trust?”
He snorted. “You are a romantic, my dear. Our marriage will be one of my convenience.” Alex pulled the pins from her hair, sending the locks cascading down her back. “Our marriage bed will not be cold and empty.”
“Lovemaking without love?” Could she do such a thing again, knowing how she felt while knowing how he did not feel?
“Exactly. Let the poets speak of tender sentiments, but never let such words pass our lips. If we approach this partnership logically, we will have no need for the illusions other couples see turn to ash before them.”
“You are most practical.” Rebecca tried to suppress another round of tears at his unfeeling words. How could she enter such a union—one where her body was freely shared, but not her heart? “One might say bitter, even, m’lord.”
Alex shrugged. “It is not bitterness. I have seen unions built and businesses thrive, while others born from contrived affection whither and die. My parents had such a marriage.”
She frowned. “I do not understand.”
“My father broke a contract to marry an heiress so he could wed my mother. Their passion faded, and they were left with nothing.”
She shuddered. “I will not have such a union.”
He nodded, looking satisfied. “Precisely. If you enter with your eyes open—”
Rebecca vigorously shook her head. “I shall not enter it at all. I will not marry you.”
Alex’s mouth tightened, and his hand pressed more firmly into her stomach. “You have little choice, m’lady.”
She tilted her chin and met his gaze. “I do not wish to marry. Ever. I shall run Stanhope Shipping and provide for my child.”
A hard laugh escaped him. “A woman in business? Have you lost your mind, Rebecca? Your delicate condition is obviously interfering with your logic.”
She glared at him. “I am as capable of running the company as my father. More so, because I shan’t succumb to the evils of gambling, drink, and women.”
He still appeared amused, but he didn’t smile. “The creditors will pick apart your pathetic shipping company within months. As soon as they catch up with you here in the Colonies, they shall seize your ship and cancel any contracts you might manage to secure.”
Rebecca dropped her eyes, determined to hold onto her impulsive plan and resist marrying any man. “I will earn enough to repay his debts.”
Alex pushed up on her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “No merchant will give you a contract. I shall ensure it personally, though it is hardly worth the bother. What sensible person would entrust cargo to a woman?”
“You are a hateful man.”
“And the father of your child.” His grip firmed. “I will not have my son raised as a bastard. Do not make me go to your guardians. Your sister will be crushed, and Mr. Gallow will no doubt do the right thing. You will be just as married to me, but without privacy, and at their terms, not ours.”
Her eyes darted around the room with desperation, seeking a way out. “I shall run away.” Even to her ears, the threat sounded weak.
“I will find you,”
he said firmly. “Be sensible, Rebecca. Think of our child. Do not be selfish or obdurate. It is unbecoming in a woman.”
Was it selfish to want love in her marriage? She had thought never to marry, yet what choice did she have? His hand on her stomach forced her to acknowledge whatever choice she made affected her child too. She wilted. “If we must do this, I wish to finish with the details quickly.”
“I shall arrange it all, Rebecca. You will stay in bed and rest.”
“But—”
He put his finger against her lips. “Until the wedding, you will stay in and conserve your strength. We will allow a few days for the gossip mongers' tongues to stop wagging before either of us venture forth into society.”
She sighed. “Very well.”
He leaned toward her. “Let us seal the arrangement with a kiss.”
“I—” Her protest was swallowed by his lips against hers. Rebecca tried to move her head away, but he put a hand at her neck to anchor her. She closed her eyes and submitted to his soft kiss. It was gentle and undemanding, and he made no attempt to deepen the caress. She sank against him, wrapping her arms around his waist.
They pulled apart when a crashing sound came from the doorway.
“What are you doing?” Elizabeth looked shocked, with her hands on her hips. “You will leave now, Lord Hanover.” An angry blush stained her cheeks. “You are to stay away from my sister.”
“Your sister will be my wife.”
Rebecca squeezed his hand to get his attention. When he turned his head, her eyes implored him not to speak of their true reasons for marriage.
“What?”
A besotted expression crossed his face, and he pushed a lock of hair off Rebecca's face with a gentle hand. “I have fallen victim to your sister's charms.”
Rebecca shot a cautious look at her sister, stunned to see a large smile enveloping her face. “You are not angry?”
“I am ecstatic.” Elizabeth rushed forward to embrace her sister, walking right through the debris from the fallen tea tray. “You have found a husband. I told Mama sending you to Boston was a splendid idea. She will be so happy.”
“Yes.” A lump in her throat made it difficult to force out the word.
Alex rose from her bed. “I shall arrange it and send you a missive with the details.”