She closed her eyes and reveled in the delightful tingles he created with his fingers. Instinctively, she tilted forward slightly and placed her hands on his knees.
Gripping her hips, Drew guided her movements, hauling her flush against him. Lana quickly mastered the lesson, feeling decidedly wicked and exhilarated.
When he withdrew, Lana uttered a cry of protest, which earned a chuckle. “We aren’t finished, you little vixen. Turn around. I want to see your face when you reach your pleasure.”
She maneuvered in the crowded space to straddle him, and he filled her immediately. She rocked forward, riding him, pleasuring them both. The power was heady.
“My God, you are beautiful,” he said on a heavy breath.
Lana stilled. She had never felt attractive and desirable until Drew. Leaning to kiss him once again, she whispered, “I love you.”
His breath hitched and his head dropped against the seat back. A few deep thrusts sent him over the edge, his husky moan signaled his release. Moments later, Lana cried out as bliss swept through her, hard, sudden, unexpectedly.
Holding her close, Drew stroked the length of her spine as her heartbeat slowed. “You’ve ruined me, peach.” His breath blew across her ear.
She laughed and pushed away from him. “Oh, Andrew, you were ruined long before me.”
“No,” he replied, still running his hands along her back. “I am quite hopelessly in love now.”
Thirty-four
Drew assisted Lana with pinning her hair and straightening her clothes.
She nibbled her bottom lip, an action he found adorable. “What will the servants think?”
He knew what they would think. The men had grown accustomed to his habits, much to his chagrin. “Don’t worry, peach. They won’t suspect anything other than a stolen kiss or two.”
Some lies were meant to be told, especially if they protected loved ones. Drew exited the carriage and found the driver feigning sleep on his perch while the footman had wandered from his post. He would adequately reward the servants for their discretion later.
Scanning the grounds first and finding the area deserted, he reached inside to assist Lana down the steps. “Hurry,” he whispered. “No one is around.”
She grasped his hand tightly and scrambled from the carriage before rushing inside his brother’s home. With no one lingering in the foyer, Drew ushered her to the water closet where she could freshen.
“I will wait in the drawing room, three doors down,” he whispered.
Color brightened her cheeks, and she gave a brief nod before disappearing inside the water closet.
Drew sauntered toward the drawing room, wondering if he had time for a drink before Lana joined him.
“It’s a boy.” His father’s booming voice startled him. Raising a glass in salute, his father grinned from ear to ear. “Your sisters are upstairs, and I detected a flash of skirts dashing up the stairs a while back. I assume that was your mother.”
“And why are you down here?” Drew asked. “Have you seen your grandson yet?”
The duke shook his head, flushing pink. “Don’t misunderstand. I am proud.”
Drew moved to the sideboard to pour a celebratory scotch for himself. “You should be most concerned with how Rich interprets your absence.”
“Your brother must know I’m pleased.” His father paused and took a gulp of his drink. “But Richard has produced two sons already while your oldest brother hasn’t even taken a wife.”
Poor Luke would never hear the end of it once Drew married Lana and produced issue. Perhaps their firstborn would be a boy as well.
“Don’t fret over Luke. He will marry once he finds the right match.”
“He isn’t even bloody looking,” his father grumbled.
Drew sipped his drink to hide his smile. “Forget Luke. Today is a joyous occasion. Come upstairs to welcome the new family member. Miss Hillary will join me in a moment and then we will go up.”
His father frowned. “You’ve brought a guest? This is highly irregular, Drew.”
“No need to be high on the ropes, Father. Miss Hillary enjoys a close friendship with Pheebs. Besides, she will be part of the family soon.”
“You mean to adopt her?” His father’s confused expression left him tongue-tied. If the question had come from his mother, he would have known she had asked it in jest. Yet, his father’s show of humor was rare and delivered with such absence of expression, Drew never knew if he joked or not.
Finally, a smile spread across his father’s face. “Your mother and I do speak, Drew. Congratulations.”
Drew accepted his father’s handshake and backslapping hug. “Thank you. I couldn’t be more pleased.”
“Your mother is fond of Miss Hillary, although I’m troubled by her relations.”
“But you are friends with the Hillarys.”
His father frowned. “Remaining on friendly terms is important to your mother. I simply accept her feelings on the matter.”
Drew lowered his brows, trying to make sense of his father’s words.
His father waved his hand. “Never mind the history. That’s unimportant. You’ve already offered for Miss Hillary, so you must follow through with your word.”
Drew rubbed his chin. His father was an odd chap at times, but another thought was foremost in his mind, so he didn’t contemplate his sire for long. “Father, do you think you might be able to procure a special license?”
He flinched in response to his father’s rapid change in demeanor. His fierce glare reminded Drew a lot of his brother. “What have you done, Andrew? Do not tell me you’ve compromised the girl.”
A flash of anger heated his blood. “My relationship with Miss Hillary is none of your concern.”
“You’ve gotten her with child, haven’t you?” His father’s pink complexion changed to a dark red. “How many times have I warned you about your reckless behavior? How am I to correct your mess?”
Drew clenched his teeth, furious with his father’s insulting assumptions. “I don’t need you to correct my mess. Can you procure the license or shall I seek help elsewhere?”
“I’ll see what I can do.” His father downed his drink, a glower still on his face. “I always knew with your indiscriminate bedding of wenches one day, you would make a mistake. Indeed. You’re marrying the chit… I’ll stand for nothing less.”
Drew opened his mouth to correct his father’s belief that Lana was a mistake, but she appeared in the doorway at that moment. He forced a smile, not wishing to alarm her. “Miss Hillary, there you are. Shall we offer our congratulations to Rich and Phoebe?”
He would set his father straight later, and demand an apology. His relationship with Lana was the only intelligent decision he had made in his life.
Lana stood at the threshold with uncertainty clouding her wide green eyes. Had she overheard their conversation?
Drew stepped forward with an easy smile, hoping to reassure her. He weighed the wisdom in mentioning the incident later. If she wasn’t privy to his father’s insults, he didn’t want to upset her.
“I’ll send a footman to announce our arrival,” he said.
“Very good.” Lana’s tentative smile didn’t reassure him, but he would watch her the rest of the evening for signs of distress before broaching the topic.
Several moments later, the servant rejoined them. “Please, follow me.”
“I know the way.” Drew held Lana’s hand and pulled her up the stairs while his father followed at a slower pace.
***
Lana did her best to push her doubts aside as they neared Phoebe’s chamber door. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. Her heart squeezed. The duke had demanded Drew marry, that he’d made a mistake—their child was a mistake.
She didn’t know if there was a child yet, but there would be before long if she continued to surrender to her lust. Lana was no better than Drew. Perhaps she was even worse, behaving like a trollop.
She blinked against the
tears threatening to make an appearance. Drew hadn’t corrected his father. Did he see her as nothing more than a huge misstep?
Stop it.
Drew had professed his love in the carriage. If a baby came a few months after they spoke their vows, he or she would simply be a beautiful addition to their family.
Drew rapped on the door before entering his brother and sister-in-law’s private chambers. Phoebe sat in the middle of the rich cherry canopied bed, reclining against luxurious silk pillows, Lord Richard on one side and their firstborn, Stephan, on the other.
All Lana’s concerns evaporated the moment she laid eyes on the bundle in Phoebe’s arms. She could think of nothing but the miracle her friend cuddled close to her heart. The Forest women perched on the edges of the bed, cooing to the baby and expressing their wonder.
Phoebe’s face glowed with happiness, and she appeared fresh, as if she had just woken from a full night’s sleep, which seemed quite unfair.
She reached toward Lana. “You came.”
Lana hurried to the bed to take her hand.
“Please, sit.”
The two youngest girls moved aside to make room, and Drew sat beside her. The baby’s dark hair stuck up from his tiny head, and sooty lashes lay against his pink skin. He resembled Lord Richard.
Gabby caressed the baby’s cheek with her small finger. “Isn’t he handsome? He’ll grow into a proper gentleman with all of us women to guide him.” From the opposite side of the bed, she shot a pointed look in Drew’s direction. “Too bad all men can’t boast the same advantage.”
Drew rolled his eyes before turning his full attention to his newest nephew. “Good thing your father wasn’t proper or you wouldn’t be here,” he mumbled under his breath. Phoebe must have heard, because her cheeks changed to bright red while Lord Richard beamed with pride.
“What is his name?” Lana asked, hoping to ease her friend’s embarrassment with a change of topic.
“Samuel Richard. Sam,” she answered.
“Stephan and Samuel; what do you think of that?” Drew asked his nephew who was snuggled against his mother’s side.
“Both start with the same letter,” he answered with confidence. “Sam doesn’t know that yet, because he’s a baby. I’ll have to teach him, since I am the big brother like my papa.”
Lana couldn’t help but marvel at the beautiful picture they presented. Was it possible for her and Drew to be as happy?
“Would you like to hold him?” Phoebe passed the baby to Lana.
“Oh.” His weight settled in her arms, as light as a cloud. And he was tiny, frighteningly small, as if one rough movement might break him. Just as she thought to hand him back, he puckered his lips, making the most heavenly mewling sounds and capturing her heart. Smiling, Lana hugged him close and gently rocked.
Before passing him to the duchess, she placed a tender kiss on his forehead. She had never guessed the joy a baby could bring. The soft glow on Drew’s face made her chest swell with love.
After several more moments, Lana reluctantly bid them farewell. Drew insisted on escorting her home and dragged Gabby along to quell any possible rumors. It seemed a poor choice, but Lana wouldn’t ask the duchess to leave her grandson’s side.
When the carriage arrived at Hillary House, Drew frowned at Gabby. “Do you mind?”
“Why did you ask me along if you planned to ruin her anyway?” She sighed as if world-weary and covered her eyes with her hand. “Happy?”
Drew pulled Lana across the carriage and placed a brief kiss on her cheek. “Very.”
***
James Hillary sat at his desk reconciling his accounts when a servant tapped at the door. “Enter.”
The butler approached his desk and leaned down to speak discreetly. “Mr. Hillary, there is a gentleman here to see you.”
He tossed his quill on the desk with an exasperated sigh. Who could it be now? Andrew Forest left only thirty minutes prior. He had barely gotten anything started and here he had another interruption.
“Where is the gentleman’s card?” He thought he sounded more patient than he felt.
Hogan shifted uneasily. “He doesn’t appear to have one, sir. He said I’m to tell you he is Lord Bollrud, great-nephew to the Dowager Lady Dohve.”
James squeezed the bridge of his nose. Perhaps he could deny him an audience, but then again, it wouldn’t do to insult Foxhaven, and the man was the duke’s guest. “Show him to the formal drawing room. I will join him in a moment.”
Hopefully, Bollrud hadn’t come for the reason he suspected. Susan had been excessive in her praise of the young man, having met him at Irvine Castle. She had hinted of his interest in Lana, but to hear his wife talk, Bollrud spent most of his time doting on her rather than his daughter. If the gentleman offered for his wife, he might consider giving his consent.
James grimaced, ashamed of his uncharitable thought, but living with Susan was challenging. He found it easiest to avoid her. Unfortunately, when it came to their children’s welfare, he couldn’t keep his distance. He must interact with her, and if things didn’t go as well as she anticipated, he was to blame. In fact, he was responsible for every ill that befell his wife, and she never allowed him to forget it.
Perhaps the match with Lord Andrew would please her. Warmth infused his face. He should have already told her of Lord Andrew’s offer and his acceptance.
James reached the doorway to the drawing room and studied Bollrud. He seemed unaware of James’s presence as he snooped around the room, picking up objects as if weighing their worth. He stood with shoulders slumped in ill-fitted clothes. How could his wife think this buffoon would be a good husband for Lana? A title did not make him worthy of their daughter. He wouldn’t allow his wife to use Lana to gain status. Lord Andrew inspired James’s confidence. He believed in the young man’s promise to make his daughter happy, especially after witnessing Lana’s reaction to Lord Andrew at dinner the other night. She was smitten. She reminded him of the joyful little girl she once had been. How could he deny her the happiness he had lost?
He cleared his throat. “Lord Bollrud, to what do I owe this pleasure?”
Bollrud jumped and fumbled the Limoges figurine his wife cherished. James held his breath as he waited for it to crash to the floor, but the man recovered and placed it on the sideboard.
James ambled into the room. “You demonstrate an aptitude for juggling. What other talents do you keep hidden?”
Bollrud turned on his heel. “I’m here to finalize the agreement.”
“Indeed? And to what agreement do you refer?”
The man sank into a chair without an invitation. “To marry your daughter, of course.”
“I see. And has my daughter indicated any desire to wed you, sir?”
Bollrud frowned and rubbed his temple. “Miss Hillary… I believe she will accept me.” He shook his head as if to clear cobwebs from his rarely used head. “May I be direct, Mr. Hillary?”
“By all means.” The sooner he dismissed the man, the quicker he could return to his books.
“I spoke with your wife, and I am aware of your situation. Miss Hillary hasn’t been receiving offers of marriage despite her obvious attractiveness. I’m here to take your daughter off your hands.”
James’s fists clenched at his sides, and he ground his teeth. “It is unnecessary to relieve me of my daughter’s company.” He spoke in clipped words.
The man blinked. “But Mrs. Hillary said—”
“My wife spoke out of turn. She is in no position to arrange anything for our daughter. Lana is my sole responsibility.” He started for the door. “I’m sorry for your trouble. I will have Hogan show you out.”
“If she doesn’t find a husband next season, which seems doubtful since she hasn’t found one in two seasons, will you put her on the shelf?” Bollrud rested his foot on his opposite knee and picked his teeth with his thumbnail. “There is no need. I’ll marry her.”
“So, you will rescue my daughter f
rom a life of spinsterhood?”
The man nodded. “Exactly. We understand each other. I want to marry your daughter.”
Another fortune hunter. None of them proclaimed to love his daughter. No one ever spoke of her happiness or what he could bring to the union. This was the true reason Lana remained unmarried. James had received many offers after his daughter’s broken betrothal with Paddock, but not one of her suitors had struck him as sincere, until Lord Andrew.
“I’m afraid my daughter doesn’t want to marry you, Bollrud. If you will excuse me, I have matters that require my attention.” He stalked from the room without a backward glance.
Thirty-five
As Lana came down the staircase, angry voices drifted from the vestibule. Curious, she made her way toward the front of the house.
Lord Bollrud stood at the entry, his words coming out in a furious hiss. Lana couldn’t decipher what he said, but his demeanor communicated everything. His face contorted into an ugly mask of fury and he advanced on her lady’s maid.
Lana hurried forward. “Is there a problem?”
Her maid jumped and spun in place. Betsy’s face glowed red, and she cast her eyes downward. “N-no, miss. I… uh… ran into the gentleman. Almost caused him to fall. I should watch where I’m going.”
Lana blinked. Her mild-mannered maid had been arguing with a nobleman. What had Bollrud done to evoke such a strong reaction from the young woman?
Lana waved the maid from the vestibule. “You may go, Betsy.”
“Yes, miss.” The maid brushed past her, keeping her gaze on the floor. Perhaps she expected a scolding in private, but Lana didn’t doubt the man deserved whatever sharp words Betsy had delivered after witnessing the encounter.
Yet, he was a member of the nobility, and to disrespect him would be foolish. Lana adopted a penitent stance, lowering her eyes and clasping her hands at her waist. “Please accept my apologies, my lord. Such behavior is inexcusable, and I shall speak with her immediately.”
Lord Bollrud sniffed. “No need. I made myself clear to the clumsy chit.”
Miss Hillary Schools a Scoundrel Page 23