The duchess was right; it was her pride that was holding her back. How she’d guessed, Gina didn’t know. She knew in her bones that it was not completely over between them, as much as she wanted to deny it.
How could she, when every time he walked into a room she wanted to rush into his arms and be held there forever. When the thought of kissing another man, even one as handsome as Lord Rockingham, made her cringe. When she knew in her heart that there was no other man in the world for her.
Did she want to hold on to the hurt, or could she let it go?
She took the duchess’s hands in her own and gave them a slight squeeze. Gina was uncomfortably aware that it was the first sign of affection she’d ever displayed toward her stepmother. She’d found a champion in the most unexpected of places. “Thank you.”
Gina didn’t miss the damp sparkle in the duchess’s gaze before she shuffled her off. “Now go. Quickly, before your father comes back.”
Gina followed Coventry out of the ballroom. Not knowing where he’d gone, she paused in the hall and looked around. Only to be waylaid by the Countess of Coventry. The countess had returned from her exile in the country to attend her daughter’s nuptials, bringing with her Coventry’s two youngest sisters.
“Ah, Lady Georgina.”
Gina nodded, reluctant to engage in a conversation that was bound to be unpleasant. An unenthusiastic smile froze in place. “Lady Coventry,” she said from behind her clenched teeth.
The countess frowned. “I was quite disappointed to hear that you’ve refused my son. But you are a sensible girl, and I can’t say that I fault you for your decision.” She shook her head, not giving Gina a chance to reply. “I must admit I was surprised to hear that he got up the nerve to offer for you at all. I never thought he’d see fit to do his duty and marry again.” She lowered her voice and said in a manner that suggested she did not expect Gina to disagree, “Coventry was always a great disappointment to his father and me.” Her mouth pickled with distaste. “Such a needy child. And now the incessant scandals, the drinking, the gambling. Quite a disgrace. Even with a title and fortune, he’ll be lucky to convince any suitable woman to take him.”
Gina felt the anger take hold. How could a mother speak of her own child that way? Instinctively, she found herself defending him. “I’m sure you are wrong. There are many women who would be happy to marry Lord Coventry. And a disgrace? I have never thought of him that way. Unhappy, I’d agree. But not without cause perhaps?” She waited for the countess to take her meaning and continued. “As for his being a disappointment, I cannot say. But to my knowledge he has never neglected his duties, actual or self-imposed. I believe he has more than adequately provided for you and his sisters since his father’s death? But perhaps Augusta is a better judge of that than I.” The countess sucked in her breath. Gina’s thrust was well-taken. Augusta’s dowry had been enormous.
As much as the countess would like to believe differently, her son was not the ne’er-do-well she wanted him to be.
Coventry couldn’t believe his ears. After his conversation with Georgina in the ballroom, he’d stepped into the morning room, needing to collect himself for a moment. He’d heard her voice, her defense of him, and had to step outside to make sure that his ears had not deceived him. Seeing her like that, face flushed, eyes flashing, chest heaving with indignation as his mother spewed her venom, was one of the most beautiful moments of his life.
His mother’s face turned bright red at Gina’s pert reply. Coventry thought she might have an apoplexy. He could only hope.
“Here he is now,” The countess said, her displeasure obvious. “’Tis no wonder why you refused him, Lady Georgina. Once again, he appears to be in his cups.”
“You’re wrong, Mother.” He hadn’t touched a bottle, though he’d wanted to.
She shrugged, reading his mind. “This time perhaps. But drunkenness is only one of the many reasons why you’ll never find a decent girl foolish enough to marry you.”
“You, of course, are entitled to your opinion, Mother. But I don’t need to listen to it. And neither should anyone else have to.” He moved to stand between his mother and Georgina. “You will return to the country tomorrow, but I’ve decided to keep Barbara and Margaret here at Coventry House with me.”
The countess sputtered then scoffed. “Surely you jest. Left here alone without a chaperone? You must be mad as well as stupid. With your reputation, they would be outcasts.”
Damn. She was right.
Unconsciously, Coventry sought out Gina with his gaze. The moment of truth had arrived. He loved her. He needed her. Had she realized yet how much?
He implored her with his eyes, silently begging for forgiveness. But there was something else. Love. He loved her. The knowledge spread like a warm fuzzy blanket over her and she knew what she had to do. He needed her. Not just to protect him from his dragon of a mother, but to stand at his side. To love him. To believe in him. He needed her not to manage his household or be a hostess for his parties, but as someone to love him and be loved in return. She’d desperately wanted to be important to someone, and at that moment, she knew she would always be to him.
Taking a deep breath, Gina stepped around him to stand at his side, placing her hand in the curve of his arm, savoring their united strength.
Gina would never forget the past, but she realized that she had the power to forgive and the strength to do so.
He’d made a mistake, a horrible one to be sure. But he’d learned from it. These past few weeks were evidence of that enough. He’d declared his love for the entire world to see, subjecting himself to ridicule, the least she could do was accept it herself. He’d faced and stood down his dragons… for her.
She turned to the countess, feigning surprise. “But he won’t be a bachelor much longer. And with the connection to the Duke and Duchess of St. Albans, and with their patronage, I’m sure Lord Coventry’s sisters will have more invitations than they know what to do with.”
The countess’s eyes bulged. “But you refused him.”
Gina gazed up at the man standing at her side. The smile on his face could only be described as euphoric. She swore she could see his eyes shining with unshed tears of joy. “That was a misunderstanding. I’ve only just agreed to marry Lord Coventry.”
The countess’s eyes narrowed, perceiving that she’d unwittingly had a role in this announcement. She thought for a moment then shrugged. “St. Albans will never agree.”
Gina flushed. “I believe he will.”
The countess shook her head, not swayed by Gina’s bravado. “Good luck to you. I can’t say I wouldn’t be pleased by the connection. It is a much better match than I’d hoped for him.”
Coventry put a restraining hand on Gina’s elbow as she started to argue. “Let her go,” he whispered.
The moment she was gone, Coventry spun her around in his arms and pulled her into a room. The morning room. Her back was to the door. With one arm wrapped around her waist, he tipped her chin with the other. “Are you certain?”
Standing there in his arms, where she never thought to be again, the emotion gripped her, closing her throat. She barely managed a nod.
He bowed his head, almost as if he was offering thanks. “Thank God,” he murmured. “I thought I’d lost you. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d never spoken to me again. I was such a fool.” He wrapped her tighter in his arms. His voice shook with the emotion shimmering in his eyes. Both aware of how close they’d come to losing each other.
“Yes, you were. I hope that next time I do something to anger you—and believe me, I will—I trust that you will not repeat—”
“Never. I swear that I’ll spend the next twenty years making it up to you.”
Gina quirked a brow. “Only twenty?”
He grinned, that roguish lopsided grin that belonged only to her. “Forty.”
“Much better. And you can start right now.”
He cupped her chin with his hand and stared deep
into her eyes. “God, I love you.”
“I love you too,” she whispered, but her words were cut off by his groan as he swept her into his embrace. He kissed her with a tenderness, a gentle reverence that went straight to her toes. She felt him with every fiber of her being. It was a perfect kiss of reconciliation. A kiss to demonstrate the futility of denying what could not be denied: They were meant for each other.
And when he broke the kiss, Gina could only rest her cheek against his chest and listen to the heavy beat of his heart in perfect sync with her own.
“She’s right, you know.”
Gina lifted her head.
Reading her question he added, “About your father. I vowed not to pursue you.”
She frowned. “He must agree. And if he doesn’t, well, we’ll have to consider all the options. Besides, you didn’t pursue me, I pursued you.”
“I doubt he’d see the distinction.” Coventry straightened. “I won’t do anything to subject you to scandal.”
Gina wrinkled her nose, not sure whether she cared for this new penchant for propriety. She’d waited long enough for the right man, now that she’d found him she didn’t want to wait any longer than was necessary. A few days should suffice. Long enough to obtain a special license. And if her father remained stubborn, well, perhaps it was time she broke a few rules.
She leaned slightly forward, giving him a clear view of her gaping bodice. “Do you like to gamble, Lord Coventry?” she asked coyly.
His eyes devoured her offering, she felt her nipples harden in response.
“Not anymore,” he managed.
She rubbed against the hard plane of his chest, ever so slightly, just so he could feel the taut tips rake him. Her mouth was only inches away from his.
“Are you sure I can’t tempt you with one game of billiards? I seem to recall we left a few things unfinished.”
His eyes flamed. “When?”
“Later tonight, we’ll have to sneak away.”
He swallowed, hard. “Perhaps I could be persuaded to play one game.” The side of his hand stroked her breast and Gina felt a rush of heat between her legs. “But what are the stakes?” he asked huskily.
Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “One wish.”
He leaned down to kiss her parted lips. “Ah, but I already have mine.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“You cheated.”
“I did no such thing,” she lied, with exaggerated offense. “It’s not my fault you could not concentrate on the game at hand.”
“Oh, I was concentrating on the game at hand all right, but the game wasn’t billiards.” He grumbled something about her learning to fight fair. “And how are you enjoying Scotland, Countess? Seeing as it was your greatest wish to come here.”
“Mind your sarcasm, my lord and master.” She rolled on top of him, pulling the bed coverings over to wrap them in a tight cocoon. Would she ever get used to the feel of him. The skin-to-skin sensation that made her yearn to melt into him. Even after two days of exhausting and illuminating lovemaking, she still could not get enough.
“And to answer your question, Scotland is lovely—what I’ve seen of it at least. Even though you waited far too long to bring me here.”
“Two weeks.”
“Two weeks too long. I was beginning to doubt that you would honor your wager.”
He frowned. “That’s the last time I accept a wager from you that involves billiards. Besides, I like your father.”
As she knew it would, eloping to Gretna Green had bothered him. Gina, on the other hand, found the impropriety surprisingly exhilarating. This newfound streak of honor in Coventry wasn’t always convenient—which is why she’d proposed a game of billiards. It was never a bad idea to have an extra ace up your sleeve.
“And father likes you.” She bit her lip at the falsehood. “Or will again once he gets over the shock. If there had been another way…” She giggled, noticing his downcast expression. “Don’t worry, he’ll come around. We have the duchess on our side and she can be very persuasive.”
Perhaps having a stepmother wasn’t all bad, Gina realized.
He groaned dramatically. “I pity him the torture of a persuasive woman.”
She rubbed against him and trailed kisses along the stubbled line of his jaw. “Torture, hmmm. Now there’s something we haven’t tried. Is there anything I can persuade you to do right now?” She slid up the long, hard length of him, teasing his tip with her damp opening until she throbbed with need for him, and she wondered who was torturing whom.
“That’s enough.” Grabbing her hips, he pushed up deep inside her. Groaning, this time with passion.
She sat on top of him, savoring the sensation of him lodged deep inside her. Filling her. He felt hot and thick and utterly divine. She could stay like this forever, if she wasn’t dying to move.
She slid up and down, milking him with long, slow strokes the way he liked. Closing her eyes, she let her head fall back and rode him like a stallion. Rode him until she knew she would not be able to walk tomorrow.
She heard him moan, felt him stiffen and knew he was close. She loved to watch the way his shoulders tightened, the veins rose on his neck, and his stomach muscles clenched as he pumped inside her.
He reached down between them and circled her nub with his thumb. Her breath quickened and the sweet tingling turned into tight contractions. Her mind turned black and stars exploded behind her eyes. Together they shattered in a torrent of unfettered love and desire.
Unable to hold herself upright any longer, Gina collapsed on the bed beside him, her heart still beating wildly in her chest.
Forty years might not be long enough, she should have bargained for fifty. Oh, well, they could always make another little wager. Had she told him that she knew how to play backgammon?
“I have something for you,” he said.
She managed to find the strength to prop up on his chest to look at him. “I think you already gave it to me.”
“Naughty wench.” He laughed, swatting her bottom. “Have a little pity. I need a few minutes to recover.”
“Bored of me already?” she teased.
He tilted her chin to look deep into her eyes. “Never.” He was smiling, but she heard the sincerity in his voice. “I fear it may well be the other way around. What will you do now that your project is done?”
“My project?”
“Reforming the rake.”
She laughed, trailing her finger along the hard edges of the muscles on his chest. “I’m afraid that project might be ongoing.”
He reached over to the coat that had been carelessly tossed on the chair beside the bed to dig something out of the pocket. “Perhaps this will convince you,” he said, handing her a small box.
She frowned. “Where…?” Their eyes met. “The delivery from London this morning.”
He nodded. “I had it made for you. It’s a wedding gift.”
“You’ve already given me my greatest wish.”
His mouth curved in a boyishly lopsided grin, which she intended to make her mission in life to see every day for the rest of their lives. “Open it, sweetheart.”
She removed the lid and gasped. She carefully lifted the necklace from where it rested on its velvet liner. Her chest squeezed and tears swam in her eyes as she found his gaze. “Oh, James.”
“Do you like it?”
She nodded, her throat too tight to speak.
He took the thin gold chain from her hand and gently secured it around her neck. The tiny sword rapier with the jeweled hilt fell just below her collarbone.
“You slayed your rake, my love. I am yours forever.”
EPILOGUE
Almack’s assembly rooms, twenty years later
“Buck up, James. It is only a season.”
Coventry shot his wife a dark glare. It wasn’t the use of the word buck that fired his temper. It was one of Gina’s favorite jests, and after twenty years of marriage, the pain of that night in
the caves was well forgotten. No, his temper was black for an entirely different reason.
“You’d think that after three sisters you would have grown used to this place,” Gina said.
“I will never grow used to it.” It was still the Seventh Hell, but Hell had taken on an entirely new dimension tonight.
His altogether too-amused wife eased up on her tiptoes to press a gentling kiss on his cheek. “Just think of it as your penance, which you will only be forced to suffer through two more times.”
He groaned and shot her a look that promised vengeance. This was nothing to tease about. This was serious, damn it. He’d be lucky if he didn’t come to blows with a half-dozen young bucks tonight.
He watched as the throng descended moments after they were announced.
Oh, God, he felt ill. “She’s too young.”
Gina’s smile wasn’t without compassion, but it wasn’t without amusement either. “She’s eighteen, James.”
He gazed down at his wife, who looked so much like Clarie—Clarissa. Gina was forty now, but she didn’t look much different than she had twenty years before when she’d captured—or rather, slayed—his heart. “You don’t understand young men. She’s too beautiful. They’ll see her and…” He looked down at her and scowled. “If you laugh at me, I swear I will make you regret it.”
He knew he sounded ridiculous, but damn it. This was his daughter. The first of three, God help him.
“Laugh?” she repeated, her eyes bright with mirth. “Now, why would I do that? Do you not think there is just a smidgen of divine justice in all this?”
The Countess of Coventry was going to be lucky if he didn’t take her out onto the balcony, press her up against a wall, and ravish her senseless. Dragons and society be damned.
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