The Dark Regency Series: Boxed Set

by Chasity Bowlin

  Rhys knew then that it would not be a social call. The only reason the man would entertain them in the study rather than the drawing room was because he intended to call them on the carpet or to talk money. Rhys expected a bit of both. Rather than offer his arm formally, as would have been proper, he tucked her hand into his and gently squeezed, providing what reassurance he could.

  Entering the library, he noted the dim light and the man who was seated behind the desk. Mr. Stidham possessed a florid complexion along with a bulbous nose and an alarming number of chins. His hair was thick, but was unwashed so it hung limply around his head. That Mr. Stidham didn’t rise when a peer entered the room was telling.

  “Good morning, sir,” Rhys said.

  Stidham didn’t acknowledge him, and instead turned his attention toward Emme. “You’ve behaved like a common whore and shamed your mother and me.”

  The man’s vitriol was cut short, because Rhys had reached across the desk and lifted him by his neck cloth, twisting it mercilessly.

  “That was uncalled for, Stidham. Now, I understand that it is difficult for you to speak at the moment, so if we are in accord, simply nod.”

  The man’s eyes were throwing daggers, but he nodded regardless. Emme was stunned. She had known Rhys was powerful, and formidable, but she had not expected him to challenge her stepfather so directly.

  Rhys loosened the man’s cravat slightly, so that he could speak. “Now, are Mrs. Stidham and Larissa in the drawing room?”

  “Under the circumstances, I don’t want her around Larissa. We still have hope for her,” Stidham said.

  His tone was brusque, but Rhys recognized that it was little more than bravado.

  Ignoring Stidham’s protest altogether, he said, “Emme, why don’t you join your mother in the sitting room. I’ll join you there shortly.”

  Emme met Rhys’ gaze, noted the reassuring smile, and that although he had loosened the pressure, he still held her stepfather by the throat.

  When she had left, Rhys turned back to the man in front of him and unceremoniously dumped him back into his chair. It creaked ominously under his impressive girth, but held firm, unfortunately.

  “You have a hell of a lot of nerve coming into a man’s house and issuing orders!” Stidham blustered.

  “I am a duke,” Rhys said simply. “I am used to being obeyed.”

  Stidham’s jowls trembled unflatteringly while he sputtered. His already purple face had darkened alarmingly, when he said, “Yes, and now she’s managed to trap you and make herself a duchess! She’s a cheeky girl and a sly one to boot.”

  “It wasn’t a trap. It was an unfortunate event that had a surprisingly pleasant result. I couldn’t be happier with my new bride,” Rhys said. “And I find that I wish to ensure her happiness, as well. Regardless of your feelings on the matter, publicly you will display nothing but the greatest of joy at our newly found happiness.”

  A vein in the elder man’s forehead began to throb visibly and sweat beaded on his forehead. “And if I don’t?”

  “I wasn’t making a request, Stidham. It was a ducal command, if you will. Emme is far more concerned about the scandal, than I am. I should also remind you that any scandal you monger about Emme will only reflect poorly on Larissa, as well.”

  The man cursed and his face was a mask of anger. He barked his answer, spittle flying from his fleshy lips. “I’ve already made a match for Larissa! She will wed Lord Moreland.”

  Moreland was the foulest sort. He had been a compatriot of Elise. The idea of an innocent young woman landing in his clutches was fiendish.

  “That will never happen. Larissa will be joining us at Briarwood Hall when we return. You will stay far away from her.”

  “Insolent bastard!”

  “I may be insolent, but in deference to my mother’s sterling reputation, I must take issue with any slur towards my legitimacy. Now, my wife has a marriage portion from her late father, I understand. I’ll want that transferred to me immediately.”

  “She married without my consent. I’m not required.”

  “Do you really want to make more of an enemy of me than you have already? It isn’t the money, you see, it’s the principal. That is hers, and she will have it or I will pay double that and more to drag you through the courts.”

  Stidham flushed. He looked to be on the verge of apoplexy.

  Rhys continued hopefully, “Additionally, you will not interfere if her mother should decide to visit. At our home, of course. I will not allow her to cross this doorstep and suffer your presence ever again”.

  “Yes, Your Grace,” he spat contemptuously. “You have made your wishes perfectly clear.”

  “Excellent. I shall make my addresses to your lovely family and then we will consider this visit concluded.”

  Rhys left the study, and made his way toward the drawing room. Emme and her younger sister were seated on a small settee, and their mother was prone on a fainting couch, with a hand to her forehead, apparently having a fit of the vapors.

  “Well, this appears to be an eventful visit,” he said.

  Emme looked at him, “Did you—is he—what happened?”

  “He’s hale and hearty, love,” he said breezily. He turned his attention to the other young woman in the room. She looked very much like Emme, though her hair was a few shades lighter. She had the promise of great beauty.

  “You must be Miss Larissa. It’s a pleasure to meet you, in spite of the tumultuous nature of our call.”

  Larissa bit her lips and he realized that she was struggling not to laugh, “Indeed, Your Grace. You have managed to make quite the impression.”

  “Thank you. I trust you will come to call on us at Brooke Street soon. I have already made arrangements for an extended visit when we return to Briarwood Park, and of course, Mrs. Stidham, as well.”

  Mrs. Stidham had roused herself sufficiently from her bout with the vapors and said, “My husband would never permit it, Your Grace!” she wailed.

  Fearing another fit coming on, Rhys hastened to reassure you. “Hardly, Madam. Your husband and I have an understanding. He will not prevent you from calling on your daughter. Should you fail to call on us in a timely manner, I will not hesitate to return here and demand an accounting. ”

  Larissa hugged Emme tightly. “Oh, Em! I think I like having him in the family very much!”

  Mrs. Stidham stood. “I should never have married him. He did not appear so cold and unfeeling prior to our wedding.”

  “I do understand, Mrs. Stidham. Should you be desirous of his absence, you are always welcome to visit at any of our homes or I would be happy to assist you in attaining one of your own, should you wish his absence to be of a more lengthy nature.”

  “You are most generous, Your Grace.”

  Rhys dismissed the notion out of hand. “It is nothing. Now, if you will excuse us, we have a number of pressing appointments today.”

  They left shortly after, but rather than returning to Brooke Street, they went to Bond Street.

  “What are we doing here?”

  Rhys smiled, “You need to supplement your wardrobe, Emme. We will undoubtedly be invited to many events this season.”

  She sighed and her head dropped forward,.“I hate being an object of curiosity.”

  “Then we will get you a wardrobe so incredible the only thing people will feel when they look at you is envy.”

  Hours later, after having been measured, put into a half-dozen readymade dresses that would be altered to fit her, draped with yardage in every color and texture imaginable, they went home. Arrangements had been made instead for the milliner and cobbler to come on the following day. It was a far cry from what she had been accustomed to. She couldn’t actually recall the last time she’d had new things. Her wardrobe was sadly deficient, as she knew. Mr. Stidham had not approved of spending exorbitant, or even menial, amounts of money of what he considered to be wasteful excess.

  Every gown she possessed had come from a time
before her mother’s marriage. Each gown had been made over, retrimmed and artfully altered by Gussy to hide its age and wear. Given the amount of clothing they had ordered, she could wear different gowns every day for a month.

  “How long will we stay in London? For the entire season?”

  She sounded as if she were going before a firing squad, he thought. He didn’t really have any desire to stay in town for longer than was absolutely necessary, either.

  “We will not stay for very long. I am not that active in the House of Lords. If I have to come back to town for a short time, I will, but I think after a few weeks of the social whirl, we can safely retire to Briarwood Park.”

  “Thank goodness. I don’t mean to seem ungrateful, but I never really enjoyed all the parties and balls. I only went because they kept me away from home, away from my stepfather.”

  He understood all too well what it was like to avoid one’s own home. While Elise had lived, they’d avoided one another as much as possible.

  “Well, he won’t be bothering you anymore and I have no desire to stay in London either. The House of Lords will simply have to do without me. We will go back to Briarwood Park soon, where I can make love to you morning, noon and night—in the bath, in the bed, on the billiard table.”

  She laughed, “The billiard table, really?”

  “The possibilities are endless.”

  She believed him.

  Chapter 10

  The invitations had descended upon them with ferocity. Rather than attending a ball or other entertainment on their first evening out, Rhys had elected to attend the theater. Edmond Keen was performing Hamlet, and it was sure to be well attended. Rhys had gone downstairs to have a brandy while Emme endured her toilette at Gussy’s hands.

  Her hair had been dressed very elaborately, piled atop her head and fastened with so many pins that Emme didn’t think she would ever be able to remove them all. Delicate curls framed her face and brushed against her neck. The modiste had sent over a dress of deep, peacock blue satin. The décolletage was more daring than anything that Emme had ever worn, and was embroidered with silver scroll work. The tiny puffed sleeves left her shoulders almost completely bare, and her stays were laced so tightly her already generous bosom threatened to spill over top of the deep, square neckline. A silver satin sash was fitted just beneath her breasts and diamonds that Rhys had presented her earlier winked at her ears.

  When Emme joined Rhys in the drawing room, in spite of her misgivings about the gown, she was thrilled by his response. His dark eyes went hot when he looked at her. They raked her from head to toe and she felt the weight of that smoldering gaze.

  “Had I known,” he said, “That Mademoiselle Beauchamps intended to display your charms so generously, we might have gone elsewhere.”

  “You don’t care for my gown?” she asked, accepting the glass of sherry he had poured for her.

  He liked the gown well enough, and so would every other man present. The idea of other men ogling her, and of her being displayed so lushly for their perusal did not sit well with him.

  “On the contrary, I admire it greatly. However, I fear that it may inspire me to take up my dueling pistols again when others do so.”

  “And if yours is the only admiration of consequence to me?”

  He kissed her. It was a slow kiss, a seduction of the senses as he teased and nipped at her lips, never deepening the kiss. She could taste the brandy on his lips, but thought he was infinitely more intoxicating than the liquor.

  “If we continue this,” he said, murmuring against her lips, “We won’t be making it to the theater.”

  “Then by all means,” she said, “Continue.”

  He chuckled, “You’ll not get out of it that easy. We have to face them sometime.”

  He was right. She couldn’t hide forever.

  “Then let us go before my courage fails me entirely.”

  Smiling down at her, he replied, “I didn’t think your courage ever failed. You are remarkable.”

  She blushed at such high praise. It was so far beyond what she was accustomed to. Since her mother’s marriage five years earlier, she’d become more accustomed to criticism and ridicule. She disentangled herself from his embrace. It unnerved her that he could have such an effect on her, but more specifically, that she might become dependent on his positive regard. She didn’t want to need him or his approval.

  Rhys felt her withdraw and knew that it was more than physical. It piqued his curiosity, but he chose not to press her. If there was one thing that he was learning about his new wife, it was that she was all but incapable of hiding her feelings. He would learn in due time what had prompted her to distance herself from him. In the interim, they had reputations to protect and a murderer to find.

  “We should go,” he said, “As it is, we’ll be late enough to make a grand entrance without having to talk to anyone, but not so late that our entrance will be missed entirely.”

  “You have the art of it perfected, I see,” she said.

  “I learned it from Ellersleigh, the master. He will be joining us at the theater, by the way. Assuming he hasn’t drunk himself into a stupor somewhere, that is.”

  “Or become distracted by an available female?”

  Rhys didn’t point it out, but for Michael, there were few females who weren’t available. “Just so,” he said, and ushered her outside and into the waiting carriage. He handed her up and then joined her inside the carriage.

  “I’ve accepted an invitation to the Somerfield Ball, which is tomorrow night. It is a prestigious event, and our attendance should please Lady Eleanor, if pleasing her is possible. By the end of the week, I hope to be headed back to Briarwood Hall.”

  Emme couldn’t see his expression in the dark interior of the cottage. “Why so anxious? Not that I mind, of course, I’d much rather be at Briarwood Hall. I had thought you wished to stay in London for some time.”

  Rhys paused before answering. His reasons were twofold. The first of which was that he wanted to be back at home where he could get to know his wife and enjoy her company with fewer prying eyes, the second had to do with finding the culprit. There had been no further accidents since coming to London, not that he wanted more accidents to occur. Still, it felt wrong, somehow. It was as if they’d been diverted from their true course.

  “I’ve been shortsighted. Reading Elise’s journal is difficult, but it must be done. If you are correct, and one of Elise’s lovers murdered her and Melisande, then our focus should be on finding the fiend, and not placating my aunt’s unreasonable desire for social standing.”

  Emme was relieved. “I am not much for society, Rhys. I’d be perfectly content to remain in the country all of the time.”

  “I can’t guarantee that we will never come to London, but the trips will be as infrequent as possible.”

  “Would you come without me?” she asked.

  “If needs must,” he said, “But I would prefer to have you with me.”

  The question burned on the tip of her tongue. Unable to stop herself, she said, “We’ve never discussed it, but I’m aware that maintaining a mistress is common practice—”

  “It is common practice, but it is not one I intend to indulge. I desire no other woman. I have, in fact, never desired a woman with the intensity with which I crave you. I fear that you have become an obsession.”

  The words thrilled her, but her fear would not be so easily dismissed. “And when you’ve grown used to me? When I’m heavy with child?”

  The very idea of her heavy with his child spoke to a part of him that was so primal he couldn’t name it. Rather than answer her, he pulled her to him and kissed her. It was not a gentle kiss, or even a passionate one. It was a claiming. He took her lips with the intensity that burned within him and branded her. In that kiss, he showed her, absolutely, that she was his.

  When the kiss broke, he leaned his forehead against hers, and breathlessly, he said, “I cannot promise that I will always be an e
asy man to live with, or even to tolerate, but I can promise you that I have made a vow to you before God, and I will keep that vow. What happens when you tire of me, when my kisses no longer stir your blood, will you be as faithful?”

  Could he really wonder, as she did? Could this glorious man believe that she would ever want anyone else?

  “I have made my vows, as well, and they will be kept. And I cannot imagine that there will ever come a time when your kisses do not stir my blood. In fact, it takes little more than a glance from you and I am behaving shamelessly.”

  She felt the smile that curved his lips against her cheek. She turned her head slightly, pressing her lips against his. She traced the contours of his masculine lips with her tongue, nipping at his slightly fuller bottom lip with her teeth, until he groaned and pulled her roughly against him. The square neckline of her gown proved little impediment, and her breasts were suddenly bared to the cool air of the carriage, and then to the heat of his callused palms. Her head tipped back, her neck arching with pleasure as he cupped the tender globes, stroking her pebbled nipples until she was gasping. He followed the column of her neck with his tongue, until his lips reached the impudent peaks. He laved and stroked with his tongue, before suckling the furled bud greedily into his mouth. She moaned and the sound was filled with such pleasure and such longing, that it made his hands tremble as he stroked her back and thighs.

  But the carriage was slowing. He cursed, and quickly straightened the bodice of her dress, concealing the lush bounty. Realizing that they were approaching the theater, Emme fought to regain some semblance of composure. It was difficult to appear poised, when all she wanted was to rip their clothes off and press her naked body wantonly to his. In a carriage, no less, she thought.

  They exited the carriage, and entered the theater. Emme could feel people watching them. It wasn’t censure, but such avid curiosity that she wanted to hide. Beside her, Rhys took in her kiss-swollen lips and the flush of her cheeks. She had never looked more beautiful. They strode past the crowd just as the gong sounded, indicating that the first act was getting ready to begin.