by Adele Clee
“Surely you don’t expect this actress to share his bed?” Lydia, Greystone’s wife, said.
“Knowing Lockhart, she will have no objection,” Valentine added.
Dariell relaxed back in the chair. He steepled his fingers together and sighed. “I am afraid to say that the actress proved unsuitable for the part. Most unsuitable indeed.”
Mr Drake sat forward. “But I thought Lockhart had made arrangements to return to town next week?”
“He has.”
“Then who will play the role of his wife?”
A smile touched Dariell’s lips. “I have the perfect lady in mind. She owns the property Lockhart is renting. Neither know that their destinies are entwined.”
“Then I suspect Lockhart has more than a few surprises in store,” Valentine said.
Dariell inclined his head. “Indeed.”
The other men in the room looked at their wives and mumbled in agreement.
After taking a sip of her champagne, Honora said, “So you are all returning to town next week?”
“We must support Lockhart in his effort to clear his name.” Valentine glanced at Ava. His blue eyes flashed with apprehension. After the problems with Mr Fairfax, they had hoped for more time alone.
“Perhaps now is a good time to tell you that I shall not be returning to town.” Dariell’s declaration came as a shock.
“You won’t?” Lord Greystone frowned.
“My fate lies with the Darlings in Falaura Glen.” Dariell raised his hand before anyone had a chance to speak. “Do not ask me about it now. All will become apparent in due course.”
Silence descended.
The Darlings in Falaura Glen.
It sounded like a magical place, a place of lush green meadows, rambling roses and a babbling brook. Even in the dead of winter, Ava imagined people found it enchanting. A haven they did not want to leave. Despite having spent two days at Whitecliff, Ava felt a similar sense of belonging. This would be their home when not in town. They would raise their children here. She might even craft jewellery from a room overlooking the sea.
Ava’s heart fluttered at the prospect of spending a lifetime with Valentine. She rose to her feet, eager to have five minutes alone with him. “Please excuse me for a moment.”
The gentlemen stood.
Ava was in the hall when she heard Valentine make his apology, too. She waited for him, captured his hand and drew him into the study. Once inside, he turned the key in the lock and pulled her into an embrace.
“Does this remind you of our first kiss in the mews?” he said, pressing her back against the solid oak door.
Before she could answer, his tongue swept over her lips and penetrated her mouth.
Ava clung to him, fought the urge to rip off every item of clothing to leave nothing but his toned, naked body. The ache between her legs throbbed as he devoured her, drank so deeply she was close to finding her release despite the fact he hadn’t touched her yet.
“Oh, Valentine. I need you. I need to feel you, all of you.”
“Love, continue talking like that, and this will be a rather reckless mating over my desk.”
“Have we time?” she asked as a delicious image of him thrusting inside her took hold.
“We can be quick, though there will be no time to undress.”
“Then hurry.”
Valentine continued kissing her as he guided her towards the desk.
“I want to spend every day with you,” she said, watching him unbutton his breeches as she pushed aside papers, gathered up her skirts and shuffled onto the edge of the large, imposing desk.
“Life with you will be an adventure.” Valentine entered her body in one slow, intoxicating slide. “Ah, you definitely want me, Ava.”
“I have wanted you from the day we first met.”
“And I want you so badly I am willing to act like a libertine on my wedding day.”
Ava swallowed a moan when his thumb massaged her intimate place and he thrust deeper. “I like the libertine.”
“Then consider this preparation for when we attend Lady Carmichael’s ball next week. When we seek vengeance on the gossips.”
“Yes,” Ava panted as the coil inside wound tighter.
And that was the last comment either of them made for some time.
Lady Carmichael’s ball was an ostentatious affair with jugglers, acrobats, a performing monkey—although Valentine took care to avoid the wild creature who hopped on people’s shoulders—and a flowing fountain of champagne. Everyone who was anyone was in attendance tonight. Spiteful gossips included.
Valentine had arrived with Drake and Juliet while Ava came with Honora and Lady Cartwright. Having neglected to post an announcement of their wedding in The Times, and with Honora being under strict instructions to remain tight-lipped, Valentine and Ava received no hearty handshakes of congratulations.
Just like the night at Rockford’s ball, Valentine sensed Ava’s presence in the ballroom. Numerous times, he sought her out simply to smile and lock gazes. Love filled his heart. Happiness flowed through his veins to bring a level of calmness he had never known.
Portia Durrant hovered around him like a bee on a honeypot. He spoke to her about Lady Carmichael’s extravagance, excused himself when the topic turned to the Kendalls. The urge to put Portia in her place, to inform the lady that his wife outranked her, proved overwhelming. But there was only one way the lady would feel true embarrassment, and so he had to stick to the plan.
Valentine removed his pocket watch and checked the time. “Will you excuse me? My presence is required elsewhere.” Valentine offered Drake a wide grin.
“Ah, it’s time for your ten o’clock liaison in the library,” Drake replied.
Excitement bubbled in Valentine’s chest at the prospect of holding Ava close, of kissing her in the sensual way that made him lose all grasp of sense and logic.
“You know what to do should Lady Durrant fail to take the bait.”
“Indeed.” Drake smiled. “I shall ensure the lady gathers her cronies and comes to find you.”
“Good luck,” Juliet said. “I wish I could be there to see Lady Durrant’s face when she learns Ava is your wife.”
Valentine touched Juliet affectionately on the arm. “I’m sure she will regale you with the facts over supper.”
Valentine left his friends and prowled the perimeter of the dance floor to give Portia ample time to follow his movements. Once confident he had the lady’s attention, he pounced on Ava.
“Lord Valentine,” Ava said, her eyes brimming with affection, “I did not expect to see you here this evening.”
“Did you not?” he whispered playfully in her ear. “Am I to understand from your sensual tone that you’re pleased to see me?”
“I am always pleased to see you.”
He offered his arm. “Then perhaps you might like to take a stroll. It is too cold to venture into the garden, but Lady Carmichael has a large collection of gothic novels in her library.”
“Gothic novels?” Ava threaded her arm through his. “How interesting. I am told the erotic is a popular trope.”
“Perhaps it is a subject you might care to investigate.”
“Is that wise?” she said, failing to suppress a giggle. “Some say that a libertine lurks behind your gentlemanly facade.”
“And you, my love, have the skill of a courtesan when it comes to pleasuring your husband.”
“Then lead the way. Perhaps we might learn of a new position to add to our growing repertoire.”
“I draw the line at donning a robe and playing the mad monk,” Valentine said as he led her through the crowd and out of the ballroom.
The beady eyes of the circling vultures watched their every move.
Soon, they would swoop down ready to rip Ava’s reputation to shreds.
A few people passed them in the hall. No one stopped them slipping into the library.
Excitement and the pounding thrum of lust captured
him the moment he entered the dark, deserted space. His thoughts turned salacious even though he knew this was merely a means to teach Lady Durrant a lesson, a means to restore Ava’s good name, and not a reason for him to plunge into his wife’s willing body.
Ava braced her hands on her hips. “I imagine this will work better if they catch us in a clinch.”
Valentine closed the gap between them. He captured her hands and drew her to the middle of the room, to where they had a perfect view of the door. Despite portraying an air of confidence, he recognised the nervous hitch in her voice.
“I prefer to use the word embrace. It expresses the depth of my love rather than implying something more licentious.” He slid his arm around her waist and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips.
Ava smiled. “You lured me here under the pretence of hearing erotic stories,” she teased.
Valentine arched a brow. “And tonight, when we are away from here, I shall tell you a tale that will curl your toes.”
Ava cupped his cheek. “Then I pray the ball passes quicker than a whirlwind.”
Valentine kissed her again, in the slow, sensual way that was like a mating of souls.
“Do you think Devlin will—” Ava began, but upon hearing a noise outside the door, Valentine placed his finger on her lips.
“Hush, love, someone is here.” Noting the slow turn of the doorknob, he glanced at Ava. “Look at me as if you’re desperate to tear the clothes off my back.”
Ava arched a brow. “That won’t be difficult.”
They remained locked in an embrace until three women burst into the room, leaving the door wide open to cast a modicum of light over the scandalous scene.
Portia Durrant was accompanied by Mrs Wainwright—a notorious gossip responsible for many a ruination—and Mrs Titterington, whose name was so opposed to her stern disposition.
“Oh!” Portia exclaimed as they all looked upon Ava as if she were the devil’s spawn. “Is Lady Carmichael aware that you’re using her library as a bordello?”
“A bordello?” Valentine scoffed. “Madam, it seems your wild imagination has got the better of you. Now get out, close the door and be on your way.”
Portia flicked her red hair and raised her chin. She turned to the other two vultures out to scavenge on her leftovers. “Did I not tell you they were conducting an illicit affair? I think this proves my point.”
“Indeed,” Mrs Wainwright said disapprovingly. She focused her attention on Valentine. “I doubt your mother would approve of you carrying on with this gal.” She stared down her pointed beak as if hungry for him to discard Ava’s ruined carcass for them to feed and feast.
“May I ask why you have involved yourselves in our private affairs?” Ava said with the confidence of an aristocrat.
Portia glared. “Because there is a place for a man to court his mistress and it is not amongst respectable Society.”
Ava inhaled deeply. She kept her calm composure while Valentine’s blood boiled.
“And what about a man who wishes to court his wife?” Ava said. “Are a married couple not permitted to sneak into the library to share a moment alone?”
A stunned silence filled the room.
Despite blinking far too many times to count, Portia gave a wry smile. She turned to her friends and chuckled. “Some people will say anything to save face. I recall no mention of a wedding in the broadsheets. Do you?”
Mrs Wainwright and Mrs Titterington failed to respond. Both matrons appeared somewhat uncomfortable and shuffled back towards the door.
“We did not make a formal announcement.” Valentine’s stern voice echoed through the room. “But allow me to present my wife—the Viscountess Valentine.”
“Your wife?” Mrs Wainwright choked on the words.
“I suggest you offer her the respect befitting her station,” he demanded, “else there will be hell to pay.”
Portia stood rooted to the spot, her face as pale as Lady Carmichael’s bust of Apollo.
Both matrons hurried forward. They curtsied whilst offering their felicitations followed by profuse apologies for their dreadful mistake.
Ava accepted their congratulations with good grace. She was wise enough to know one did not make enemies in the ton unless absolutely necessary. Besides, when Lockhart returned it would serve them well to have a few allies amongst the ranks.
Throwing Portia glares of disdain, both ladies left the room.
Ava took hold of Valentine’s arm as they made to return to the ballroom. Portia Durrant stood rigid as they passed.
“It seems I have something to thank you for,” Ava said, stopping briefly to address Lady Durrant. “Had you not paid my brother to call Valentine out, we might never have met.”
They did not wait for a reply but left the woman stewing in her misfortune.
When they entered the ballroom, the strains of a waltz captured Valentine’s attention.
“Would you care to dance?” he said, desperate for an opportunity to hold Ava in his arms.
Ava smiled. The satisfaction gleaned from putting Portia in her place still sparkled in her eyes. “What about your careless footwork?”
“Will you not make allowances for your husband?”
“I would do anything for you.”
The comment warmed his heart.
He drew her onto the floor, his pulse racing as he took her in his arms. As they whirled about in perpetual circles, he gazed at her intently, his whole body alive with powerful pulses of love. The depth of her emotion swam in her eyes, too.
“I cannot help but wonder how this glorious thing happened,” she said as he pulled her a little closer than deemed appropriate. “Mere weeks ago I had only heard your name, and now I love you more than I ever thought possible.”
“In that regard, I must disagree with Epictetus.”
She gasped, and her bewitching eyes widened. “You disagree with a great philosopher?”
“Did he not say that no great thing is created suddenly?”
She considered the question. “He did, but then we must assume he did not meet the love of his life on a duelling field.”
“Or wrestle with a monkey to protect her from a rogue.”
Ava chuckled. “Perhaps Epictetus never experienced a passion so consuming it forced him to behave recklessly.”
The comment brought the memory of their lovemaking in a carriage flooding back. “You seem to like it when I’m reckless,” Valentine said, moistening his lips.
“Yes,” she sighed, “though it is hard to be reckless when married.”
“On the contrary, I am about to show every gossip in this room how much I love you. I am going to kiss you, Ava.”
She blinked. “What? Here on the dance floor?”
“Yes,” he said, pulling her so close their bodies touched, “on the dance floor of all places.”
THE END
Thank you!
Thank you for reading
Valentine’s Vow
Will Lockhart persuade Miss Darling to play the role of his wife?
What fate awaits Dariell in Falaura Glen?
Find out in A Gentleman’s Curse
Avenging Lords Book 4
Pre-order A Gentleman’s Curse now!
Books by Adele Clee
To Save a Sinner
A Curse of the Heart
What Every Lord Wants
The Secret To Your Surrender
A Simple Case of Seduction
Anything for Love Series
What You Desire
What You Propose
What You Deserve
What You Promised
The Brotherhood Series
Lost to the Night
Slave to the Night
Abandoned to the Night
Lured to the Night
Lost Ladies of London
The Mysterious Miss Flint
The Deceptive Lady Darby
The Scandalous Lady Sandford
The Daring Miss Darc
y
Avenging Lords
At Last the Rogue Returns
A Wicked Wager
Valentine’s Vow
A Gentleman’s Curse
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