His to Keep (Regency Scoundrels Book 2)

by Mathews, Marly

  Isla smiled at her, and moved over to the table and chairs that sat on the other side of the cabin. “You should have a little bit to eat, my lady. You look like you need the sustenance. You look quite ill, indeed.”

  “I shall be fine, thank you, Isla.”

  “Lord Northam, I do not, she doesn’t look too pleased with her situation. Is she, have you brought your wife her under duress?”

  “My wife wants to be with me,” he said, strolling over to her, he pulled her to him and gave her a passionate kiss. She remained impassive and indifferent. Isla looked worried. She had her hands on her hips, and her brows were furrowed.

  There was no point in imploring Isla to help her. Not in front of Archie, anyhow.

  He didn’t seem too pleased with her cool reaction to his kiss. Pulling away from him, she walked toward the generous sized bed, and sat down.

  Gemma stood back up again, as she felt quite restless, swaying when a blackout washed over her. She shook her head, clearing her sight of the stars that swam in front of her. “Perhaps, I wouldn’t be opposed to some of that toasted bread you have there.”

  “My wife has a healthy appetite, Isla.”

  “Ah, that’s what I like to hear. You look as if you starve yourself, my lady.”

  “I assure you, Isla, she doesn’t. I saw the evidence of her healthy appetite at work.”

  She could feel her cheeks blooming with heat. That’s just what she needed to do, she probably had bloodshot eyes from the few tears she’d shed, and now she was blushing! Well, at least she hadn’t fainted. That would have taken what little she had left of her pride.

  “Since I have found myself in this predicament, I assure you, my lord, my appetite has diminished considerably.”

  His eyes flared, she could see his jaw clenching and unclenching. “You should sit, and eat, Lady Northam,” he ordered.

  “Only if you do, Lord Northam, you look a mite peckish yourself.”

  He gave her a bit of a force smile, though by the weary look in his eyes, he was either tired of fighting with her or he was just plain tired. Were the events of the night finally taking a toll upon him? She hoped so. Oh, how she wished she could get an annulment from him. She knew it was a slim hope, but she had to grasp onto it with every part of her being.

  How was Mallory faring now? She couldn’t help but smile a little at his foolishness that had landed them in the current predicament. He had more or less m made her marry Archie, and look where that had gotten all of them! Initially, she hadn’t wanted anything to do with Archie, and he had bloody well shoved Archie down her throat.

  If she wasn’t careful, Archie would be taking a trip down petticoat lane and she wouldn’t want to stop him.

  She sat down at the table and reached for a piece of toast. She yawned again. She reached for the cup in front of her, and lifted it to her lips. Without thinking, she drained most of what was in the cup. It tasted like heaven.

  “What was that?” she asked, gratefully licking the last few drops off her lips.

  Archie grinned. She watched Isla give him a satisfied look. “That, my lady was my own special kind of hot chocolate.”

  Her stomach fell. Recognition dawned. She’d been such a silly twit. “The same hot chocolate you gave to Charles,” she deduced with widening clarity. Her stomach fell. She had just cooked her own goose.

  “Aye, and he’s sleeping like a wee babe now.”

  She gasped. And, damn her, she let out another very big, very unladylike yawn.

  “My lord! You’ll need to attend to her, she looks like she’s about to go to Bedfordshire!” Isla said.

  Her eyelids were growing so heavy. She had to sleep.

  “Remind me to abstain from your special hot chocolate in the future,” she murmured, drowsily.

  “It won’t harm you, my lady. But you will sleep long and hard, and you’ll dream vivid dreams.”

  She yawned again. “Nightmares, you mean. That’s what I’m in the middle of, and only night terrors will haunt my sleep.” Her shoulders sagged. Before she could fall face first into her plate, Archie was at her side, lending her his much-needed support.

  “Oh, and Lord Northam?”

  “Yes, my lady?”

  “Damn you straight to the fires of hell.”

  “I love you, Gemma Campbell, Marchioness of Northam.” His last words echoed through her brain, as she finally succumbed to the sleeping tonic that Isla had placed in her hot chocolate and nodded off into a land plagued with the one man she wanted to damn one minute and kiss the next.

  Chapter Twenty

  Gemma had hoped the last month spent as Archie’s wife had been a terrible nightmare.

  She had been wrong. She awoke to the sound of a ship at sea.

  “We will be at our destination soon, my lady.” Archie was there. So close to her, she shut her eyes again, and prayed for some semblance of self-control.

  “My ears ring at the horrible grating sound of your voice,” she said snippily, wincing at her harsh tone.

  “Many tell me I have a handsome voice.”

  “Perhaps, to some people. But not to me!”

  “Oh, come on, Gemma. You can’t be cross with me forever. I shall win you back shortly. All you have to do is listen to my voice, let it caress you.”

  He was right. He did have a voice that would entrance many women. Too bad for him, she had become immune to it. He could no longer charm her or woo her with his silver sounding tongue and his chivalrous ways.

  “I wish you wouldn’t say my name like that.”

  “Like what?” he asked, seemingly perplexed.

  She creaked one eye open and bolted upright.

  “As for this,” she gestured to him. “You shouldn’t be in my bed!”

  “This is my bed,” he countered. “And as you are my wife, it is now your bed.”

  “You keep calling it our destination. Doesn’t this place have a name? Or are you taking me to the middle of nowhere?”

  “That’s what you might consider it. Anyplace outside of England is probably the middle of nowhere in your books.” He sighed. “We cannot always be at each other’s throats.”

  “Can’t we? Besides, there is no place you can take me where my brother shan’t find me. He knows who you are. He knows of your title. Other men in the ton shall betray you.”

  “I wouldn’t be so certain of that, my love,” he said.

  “Perhaps, I should go back to calling myself Lady Gemma St. Martin, as you did rather pull the wool over my eyes.”

  She knew she wore a nightgown, and she could only pray that Isla had been the one to put it on her.

  “Never, say that name again, attached to yours. You are my wife—you have my name now. You are mine! You are no longer a St. Martin, and you shall be a Campbell for the rest of your life, so get used to it.”

  “Why should I become a Campbell? I would much rather stick to being a St. Martin.”

  “I grow weary of this. No matter how you might delude yourself, you are my wife. You are Gemma, Marchioness of Northam.”

  They fell into an uncomfortable silence. She simmered, and he raged.

  “I assume you are taking me home to your family. So, one would naturally deduce that we are going to Scotland.”

  “Naturally,” he said, though by the tone of his voice, she could tell he was being sarcastic.

  “I will, of course, afford your mother with respect. As for the rest of your family…”

  He cut her off before she could elaborate further. In a swift movement, he had shortened the distance between them. He hovered over her, his mouth scant inches from her own. She waited, on bated breath. She hated herself. She should have given him some sort of struggle and yet, he now hovered above her in a very commanding position. She was definitely at a disadvantage. He could take her right now, so easily. And, with the smoldering look in his eyes, and her regrettable temptation to kiss him, she would probably become lax in his arms, maybe even an excited and willing particip
ant.

  “You have a silent invitation in your eyes, Lady Northam. And, it is one way to end the row brewing between us. I can hardly stay angry at you, whilst I’m making sweet love to you.”

  In the next instant, he had claimed her lips, and her thoughts abandoned her. She was lost to him.

  Memories flooded her mind. Strength surged within her. She brought her knee up and slammed him soundly with it. He groaned, rolling away from her.

  She jumped out of bed. He looked livid. She felt just as livid as he looked.

  “Don’t think you are going to get me to play along to your merry tune, Archie. You, sir, are a bloody scoundrel!”

  He met her gaze. She looked wildly around the room. She had to find something with which to defend herself with.

  “What are you doing?” He sounded confused.

  “I’m trying to figure out how to defend myself from you—you will no doubt be wanting to take out your retaliation on me.”

  “For what?” He craned his neck to the side. “I thought I already made it quite clear to you that I wouldn’t lay a violent hand on you. I only beat up men that can fight me. You, my dear, would have no chance against me in a proper range. Not when you are in your nightgown with no weapon to speak of.”

  Her breathing slowed. “You aren’t mad at me?” she asked in disbelief.

  “I didn’t say that. I am angry, but not for the reason you might believe. I thought you had gotten to a point where you could trust me.”

  “Trust you? You betrayed my family and then took me away from those that I loved. You…are a…a blackguard. That is what you are!”

  “I am your husband!”

  “Yet, you still hold me here against my will. Take me back to my family. Show a gesture of goodwill toward me. Take me home. Please.”

  “You are going home. You are going to your new home.”

  “No. I’m not going to my new home. I will never think of you as my home—I will never think of you as my husband. I would rather turn into an old maid or have this shamble of a marriage annulled and return to Sussex to marry Lord Duxford.”

  At her last words, rage filled his eyes. He crossed the distance to reach her quicker than she thought was humanly possible. Archie defied all rules of human nature. He grabbed her and pulled her toward him.

  “Never speak that little piece of shite’s name again!” he shouted. The intensity of his fury made her shake. “Never!” he reiterated, “Not unless you want to talk about what a horrid man he is. He is sick. He pays to rape his women. Do you understand me? He is a foul creature. He is the lowest sort of scum to walk this Earth. You were saved having that as a husband. Do you hear me? I saved you!”

  “I…I didn’t need saving. Mallory could have been honest with me. Surely, surely he or Mama knew. Well, he must have known. Still, Lord Duxford always seemed like such a gentleman.”

  “Gentle or man, isn’t something I ever heard his victims say about him.”

  She looked away. His grip was tightening. “At this rate—you will end up giving me bruises the size of your fingers!” her voice shook. His announcement rattled her more than she’d thought. Her breathing came in hitched gasps, her fingers on him tightened. “You are lying. You lied about everything else. You are lying about Lord Duxford as well!” Part of her believed him, but how could she possibly trust Lord Northam now? He had shattered any love or loyalty she felt toward him.

  The stormy glint in his darkly brooding eyes told her otherwise. He wasn’t lying to her, he was telling her the God’s honest truth, and it scared the living hell out of her.

  He relaxed his grip on her, but still held her firmly. “I’m sorry if I caused you pain—that was not my intent.”

  “I can’t go wherever you are taking me. I can’t.” She had to change the subject, anything to get the horrible altered mental images of Duxford out of her head. If he really was that sort of man—she’d narrowly escaped a frightful future. Northam had saved her. But she wasn’t going to tell him that. “I hope we are not going to the West Indies. I will never survive the sun or the heat there.”

  “You won’t have to be in the sun, if you don’t want to. You don’t seem to understand that you will be living in the lap of luxury—you still haven’t come to terms with who I am—and what I am. I am no pauper. My family has wealth beyond your wildest dreams.”

  “You are my husband, and you disgust me. Do you think I would value you based solely on your family’s wealth?” Her hollow words didn’t even convince her that she spoke genuinely.

  His nostrils flared, renewed anger glinted in his dark blue eyes. Her heart skipped a few beats, would he lash out at her now in his tightly controlled fury?

  “I can understand from where your resentment of me stems from—I did forcibly take you from all that you loved and all that you know.”

  “Not only did you take me, but you took Charles as well—why? Why couldn’t you have left him behind—he’s been through so much in his short life.”

  “He’s having a whale of a good time in his cabin, as we speak. Isla does have a way with children.”

  “I do not believe you.”

  “It’s true—that boy must have been born on a ship.”

  “With the sort of mother he had, I have no doubt,” she snorted, rolling her eyes.

  Archie wrinkled his forehead. “I think I might have known his mother.”

  A sinking feeling entered her stomach. “A lot of men knew his mother—she wasn’t exactly an honorable woman. She shared the bed of many men.”

  “Hmm…” He started to stare at her again. “Chastity didn’t hold a candle to your beauty. I never knew why Mallory seemed so infatuated with her—the man needed to wake up out of the spell that that sea siren put on him. I was glad to see that he was finally free of him.”

  “Happy to see that but still, you plotted your revenge against him. I find it very strange that you would be overjoyed to see that he had cast aside his rakish ways to marry and settle down with Elizabeth.”

  “We can only hope that will last. Your brother has a habit of getting bored with his shiny baubles.” How easily he ignored her other barbs. She looked away from him, as he continued to make harmless civil whiskers.

  “Mallory loves Elizabeth. Even I don’t doubt that. He’s done a lot to aggravate me to no end in the past—but his love for Elizabeth and Susan is true.”

  “And his love for the rest of his family?”

  “He will send out search parties for me. He shan’t give up.”

  “Oh, of that I have no doubt. He’s probably already mobilized all of his resources. His power is great. He, however, will not be prepared for what sort of power I wield. I played the part of his bloody lackey long enough. His arrogance has grown since he met Elizabeth but I am his match. I shall crush him. His wife’s wealth won’t save him from me. Her golden petticoats are nothing compared to the wealth I wield.”

  “Don’t do that!” She pulled away from him. She was surprised to find that he let her go. Then again, he probably felt quite certain that she was as caged as a songbird. She had nowhere to run—she couldn’t swim. Escaping from him while they were at sea was unthinkable.

  “Don’t do what?”

  “Talk about Elizabeth in that way. I won’t have it. She’s the innocent party in all of this—she can’t help it that Mallory loves her and you in turn hate all that Mallory loves.”

  “I don’t hate you, and contrary to the way Mallory treats you, I do think he loves you as much as he loves all of his sisters. That’s why this will kill him almost as much as it would have killed him if I had left with Elizabeth and the child. Besides, I didn’t hear you singing too many high praises of the exalted Elizabeth when I was there.”

  “I care for her—she might be a little too perfect and a little too sweet at times—and I know I’ve said some things about her in the heat of the moment, but I won’t have you talking about her like she’s some prissy heartless woman.”

  “Som
e would say you are a prissy heartless woman.”

  She swallowed. Turning her back on him, she looked toward the windows in the cabin. “I will not dignify that statement with a retort. If you think I’m so cold—why did you insist upon marrying me in such haste?”

  “I insisted upon marrying you so that you would not be at risk. No man would dare touch my wife—if I had kept you as my mistress—they might have thought they could share your wares as some of them say. I don’t like to share the things that belong to me, and your heart, body and soul belong to me.”

  Gemma shivered, rubbing her bare arms. She had an ache in her stomach, and she wanted to disappear. She wished the world would swallow her whole. She felt him drawing nearer to her.

  “You should take me home, and apologize to Mallory. I will speak on your behalf, as long as you leave me and never see me again.”

  Archie placed his hands on her shoulders, gently pulling her toward him. Her back connected with his chest, a thrill of anticipation welled through her. She shivered again.

  “You are cold—you should get back in bed—it’s not time to rise for a few more hours,” his voice softened, his visage warmed. He was in love with her—good lord, with all of her snippy retorts and the way she pushed him to the point of distraction he still wanted her.

  Oh, dash it all. How could this be? How could she have found someone who seemed to love her no matter what?

  “I would like to see more of the ship.” The expansive cabin suddenly felt stifling. He was right. She hated the sea, she couldn’t swim, and she was scared out of her bloody wits right now. She needed him far more than he needed her. Had he known that she feared water above anything else? Staring down a man holding a pistol was a stroll in Hyde Park compared to this agony.

  “There is nowhere you can go. Nowhere you can run to where I shan’t find you,” he whispered softly against her neck. In the next moment, his soft lips pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. The startling sensations that rippled through her nearly caused her knees to buckle. His kisses, his touch, could literally rob her of breath and enthrall her to the point of distraction. She looked almost longingly at the bed. She wondered what it would feel like to have him making love to her.