“To protect your sisters, I remember. I can’t help but think there is more to your motivation.”
“Such as?”
“The way you are looking at her suggests you have come to care for your bride, perhaps even grown to love her.”
Love? He didn’t believe in love. It was as reckless as placing a bet on the roulette wheel, and Ian never gambled. His heart was a cold, frozen organ, not capable of such foolish feelings. “Just because I anticipate my wedding night, doesn’t mean I feel something as foolish as love.”
“What do you think will happen when she discovers you still own the Raven?”
“I told her I would sell it. I never said when.”
Brooks stared at him. “She’s intelligent. She will eventually discover the truth. Then what?”
Ian’s lips thinned with irritation. “I’ll try to keep it from her. But if she learns of my involvement, it’s too late. We’re married. She will have to accept it.”
“Have you not learned anything about her at all? You think it will be that easy?” Brooks said.
Ian shoved aside his misgivings. “I think I’ll go fetch my bride now.”
Brooks merely shrugged. “Eager to start the wedding night.”
“Sod off.”
Despite his reflexive dismissal of Brooks’s words, they impacted Ian more than he’d let on. It was his wedding night. His gaze raked over his new bride boldly, hungrily, until a sense of urgency drove him. Brooks was right. They’d entertained their wedding guests long enough. Why wait?
Ian headed into the crowd with Grace in his sights.
…
Grace’s nerves were as tense as tightly wound clock springs. She took a deep breath and her lungs squeezed in her corset.
“I can’t believe you’re really married,” Prudence said.
The day had been a blur. Grace couldn’t believe it herself. Only hours ago, her father had walked her down the aisle, and she’d forced a smile, a show of high spirits for those in attendance. Then she’d spotted Ian waiting by the altar, and her smile had frozen on her face, and her heart had ceased to pump in her chest.
He stood tall and proud, his dark eyes watching her as she approached him. He looked resplendent in a navy swallow-tailed coat, striped waistcoat, and form-fitting trousers. His gaze was riveted on her face, then moved over her body slowly. An intense awareness passed between them, something deeply sensual and possessive. She felt a rush of pink stain her cheeks, and her heartbeat throbbed in her ears.
She remembered little of the rest of the ceremony. She vaguely recalled repeating her vows after the priest’s instructions. She did remember Ian’s hand on hers, the warmth of his body beside her as they kneeled at the altar, and the kiss after they’d been declared man and wife. His lips had brushed across hers once, then twice, then he’d deepened the kiss in a raw act of possession. Her pulse had pounded, but her head was light and she hadn’t the strength to push him away.
Now she glanced at Ian across the room.
Prudence leaned close to whisper in Grace’s ear. “I can see why you agreed to marry Lord Castleton. You were right. He is handsome as sin.”
She’d introduced Prudence to Ian earlier, and he’d been charming and polite. Prudence had stuttered and then smiled up at him like a lovesick schoolgirl.
“Are you nervous about the wedding night?” Prudence asked.
“A little.” Of course, she was nervous. Terribly so. She’d heard the servants talk and had even gossiped about it once with Prudence, but it was hardly enough. She realized she knew almost nothing at all about what really lay ahead. She caught Ian’s dark gaze. He looked like a wolf, hungry, intense, and she shivered partly in fear and partly in anticipation.
If he was such a skillful kisser, how would he be as a lover? Grace placed her empty glass on a passing servant’s tray.
“Do you think he’d hurt you?” Prudence looked at her in concern.
“No.” Her response was unhesitant. He’d never harmed her all the times she’d gone to his home.
But it’s different now, she thought. You will share his bed night after night.
Prudence glanced away. “He’s headed this way and has eyes only for you.”
He was. Grace held her breath as he wove through the crowd with purpose. Did everyone see him as she did? A confident self-made man who had no need of a title but looked like the most powerful man in the room?
She braced herself to speak with her husband, but Prudence distracted her, touching her arm. “My mother is waving. She wants me to meet the Marquess of Stanton’s son. No doubt now that you are married, she will increase her pressure for me to find a match. Wish me luck,” Prudence said as she hurried away.
Grace felt overheated as Ian approached. He stopped only to grasp two flutes of champagne from a liveried servant’s tray. Then he stood in front of her, and Grace forgot to breathe.
“One last glass before we leave.”
She raised a glass. They were to leave for his country estate in Kent for a week as newlyweds. The thought of being isolated with Ian for a week made her nervous and excited at the same time.
“Isn’t it too early to leave?” she asked.
“Nervous?”
“Perhaps.”
“I’m told it’s normal.”
“You don’t appear nervous.”
“I’m thinking of other things,” he said, his voice husky.
“Such as?”
“Our wedding night.” He lowered his head to whisper in her ear. “You look beautiful, Grace.”
“Thank you,” she breathed. The way he was looking at her made her senses spin. She was nervous. Bloody nervous.
But she was also curious.
She licked her lips. “You should know that you charmed Prudence.”
“That’s good. I like her, but I don’t want her coming with us.”
Grace chuckled, and her nerves eased a notch. He could do that, she realized, make her laugh and allay her fears.
“I’ll see to the carriage,” he said. “Then I’ll return to say our goodbyes.”
…
Grace finished the champagne and said her farewells to her family and friends. She searched the crowd for Lady Castleton. She’d never had the chance to speak with the dowager, and a concern gnawed at her. Did the woman dislike Grace?
She could easily believe Grace had trapped her son into marriage. Ian was a handsome, wealthy earl, and she was the daughter of an impoverished baron. The notion did not sit well with Grace. She needed to speak with the woman and explain that such an entrapment had never been her intention, and that she would try to make her son happy.
Grace scanned the crowd for the dowager and spotted her leaving the hall. Grace picked up her skirts to follow. A private conversation with her new mother-in-law was more desirable than one in a crowded room.
She headed out into the abandoned hall just as she heard angry voices. Impulsively, Grace ducked behind an open parlor door.
“I’ve heard some disturbing gossip, Ian. Lady Cordele has complained that her husband was at a gaming establishment last night. Have you taken care of that business we discussed?” the dowager asked.
“You mean the Raven Club?” Ian said.
Grace hadn’t known Ian’s mother was aware of his club, but she shouldn’t have been surprised. Prudence had overhead her own mother speaking of it in hushed whispers with her friends.
“You speak about disposing of the Raven Club as if it’s as simple as dismissing a servant who was caught pilfering the family silver. Your demands are unreasonable. The club has been my livelihood since father had all but thrown me out,” Ian said.
Not only did Ian’s mother know of the club, but she had insisted Ian sell it.
“Lady Cordele was right, wasn’t she?” the countess asked.
Ian shrugged a big shoulder. “She was. Her husband lost heavily at the faro tables last night.”
The woman’s lips thinned in disapproval. “Yo
u haven’t sold the establishment yet?”
“I will not.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean the Raven Club will stay a thriving business. I will have Brooks oversee the place for the next few days, as I just married, but I plan to resume its management thereafter.”
The dowager gasped. “You cannot be serious!”
“Oh, but I am.”
“You are now a married man.”
“I never wanted to be shackled with a wife and resent being forced to do so. You of all people are fully aware of how I felt about marrying against my will.”
“If you are referring to the past, you should know that your father sought the best match for you as a younger son,” she said.
“Bullocks! He sought to saddle me with a child in a woman’s body. He’d hated me on sight and never cared for my happiness.”
The woman’s face paled. “That was long ago and—”
“The past is not easily forgotten,” Ian said, his voice tense. “I agreed to your ridiculous plans only because the impending scandal combined with the black cloud hovering over my head regarding Matthew’s death would have irrevocably harmed Ellie and Olivia. Now that my duty is done, I have no intention of changing my life or my ways.”
“What of your wife’s opinions of your club?”
Ian laughed, a cold hard sound. “She is a minor inconvenience. The Raven Club remains open. If Grace doesn’t see it that way, then I will send her away to Castleton house in the country.”
Grace was shocked at the hardness in Ian’s tone just as much as his cold-hearted words. A sickening despair settled in her stomach. He’d lied. He had no intention of closing the Raven Club.
He’d lied.
He knew she’d never consent to marry him otherwise. He knew she despised gambling and everything the Raven Club stood for. Bile rose in her throat, and she swallowed hard. She wouldn’t be sick.
Not here. Not now.
She’d suspected all along that he didn’t want to marry. Now she fully understood his motivations. The scandal of being caught in each other’s embrace, combined with the rumors swirling around the circumstances of his brother’s riding accident, would have been sufficient to blacken the entire Castleton name.
He planned to use her, then send her away to the country. How could he be so callous? Did she mean so little to him?
Yes, she did.
What a fool she’d been. She’d believed his lies that what they shared was more than what most couples had and that he wanted to marry her. It hurt, like salt in an open wound.
Lies. All lies.
“I feel sorry for your bride, Ian,” the dowager said.
“She’ll do as she’s told,” Ian said, his voice firm with resolve.
“For someone who hated his father, you are turning out to be just like him.” With a swirl of skirts, the dowager left the hall.
For a heart-pounding moment, Grace considered returning to the dining room and pretending she hadn’t heard a thing. But she was not a coward. Her hurt veered into anger.
She stepped from behind the parlor door and into the hall. “This marriage was a farce from the beginning, wasn’t it?”
He turned around, his gaze homing on her features. “Grace. I take it you overheard.”
“Everything.”
“I apologize. I regret that you were witness to that conversation.”
“I highly doubt you regret a word of what you said, only that I’d heard it. You lied about selling the club. I realize we did not marry under normal circumstances, but I had no idea you resent being shackled to a wife.”
“I don’t.”
“You took us to Gunter’s. You led me to believe you weren’t opposed to the match…that…that there could be a future between us.”
“I meant what I said.”
“Don’t lie to me. The scandal. The hushed whispers that you caused your brother’s riding accident. That’s what this is all about. You need me to help ready your sisters for Society.”
“It was only part of my reasoning.”
“Part! It was all. I will happily help Ellie and Olivia, but not because of you, rather because I genuinely like them.”
“Thank you.”
She held up a hand. “You know how I feel about gambling. You knew!”
“Grace, you must understand. The Raven Club means more to me than a business. Even after inheriting an earldom, it’s not something I can easily part with.”
“You’re right. I don’t understand. I would never have agreed to marry you had I known of your deception. But now that we are wed, my opinions do not matter, do they? I’ll simply rusticate in the country,” she said.
His jaw clenched and he remained silent.
Her anger simmered. She foolishly had hoped he was different. A rake would have walked away and let her suffer the consequences. Instead, he’d offered marriage. He’d taken Adam for ice cream…had charmed his way into her good graces and had led her to believe there would be a future for them. She’d actually begun to admire him, to care for him. But his motives were like shady specters, not easy discerned.
Even though he wanted to care for his sisters, he’d resented having to marry her, having to change his life, having to close his precious club. There was no room in his heart for a wife, for love, for anything other than his business.
He was no different from other men who disappointed. His actions reaffirmed everything she’d known since her own father had failed her so badly.
Men were inherently selfish and untrustworthy.
She tossed back her hair and glared up at him. “You will get what you want, but you should know I have demands as well.”
“Such as?”
“I want a marriage in name only.”
His eyes narrowed and he took a step closer. “You think to keep me from your bed?”
She held her ground. “Yes. In exchange, I shall act the perfect wife at every ball and garden party. I’ll ease your sisters’ paths and encourage proper suitors.”
A muscle ticked at his jaw. “What about my continued instruction? We no longer need to attend Lady Crowley’s ball, but there will surely be others in the future. Are you going to renege on my tutelage as well? Or will you uphold your part of our initial arrangement?”
She refused to be intimidated. “I will. Nothing needs to change. You will be prepared for future balls, garden parties, and soirees.”
“And if I reject your terms?”
“Why would you? You made it clear you don’t intend to change how you live. You are free to seek other women.”
The muscle increased its ticking. “And you?”
She swallowed hard beneath his cold gaze, but she refused to back down. “If the inclination arises, then yes, I would be free to do the same.”
He took another step forward until they were nearly touching. “No.”
“No?”
“If you insist on a marriage of convenience, I’ll not be a cuckold. I’ll agree to stay away from your bed, wife. Only if you ask will I touch you.”
She struggled to comprehend his offer. “You think I’ll ask for your affections?”
He leaned close…so close his breath brushed her cheek. “I do.”
Despite everything, her heart hammered foolishly at his closeness. Damn him! He spoke with arrogance, like she would succumb to him, like he could lure her to his bed. But then he also believed she would run to another for comfort.
She took a step back. Everything she’d overheard reinforced her belief that she was doing the right thing.
Her mind spun with her predicament. There were benefits to being a married woman. Marriage offered her more freedom than she’d ever had before. She could pay social calls without a chaperone, attend whatever functions she desired without arousing gossip. She could even afford to leave London, go to the continent, and travel to her heart’s content. She no longer had financial worries. Her brother would soon go off to school and all would be wel
l.
Her father would need to be looked after, and her stomach tightened when she thought of his troubles, but she would have to deal with those as best as she could. There was no other choice when it came to the baron.
There were innumerable pastimes and pleasures with which she could fill her hours, along with keeping a wary eye on her father. Concerning herself with a husband who would rather not be married was wholly unnecessary. She could easily resist her husband, couldn’t she?
She raised her chin and tossed her hair across her shoulder. “I agree, but do not think I will ever willingly come to your bed.”
The corner of his full lips tilted in a half grin. “Challenge accepted, my lady.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Hit harder.”
“You’re a bigger fool than I’d initially thought. What the hell are you doing here with me? It’s your wedding night,” Brooks said.
“Shut up and hit harder,” Ian said, panting.
They were in the Raven Club’s boxing room where a square ring was roped off with stakes anchored to the floor at each corner. In the center of the ring, Ian and Brooks circled each other.
“It didn’t take long, did it, to push your bride away?” Brooks said.
Ian glowered at his opponent. “Stop talking. Start fighting.” The pair rocked back and forth with nimble footwork.
“As you wish, my lord.”
Ian’s jaw clenched. He needed this. Needed to fight. They were bare-chested and bare-fisted. Both men were slightly bent, head and shoulders forward, their fists balled to strike. They jabbed and punched as they moved around within the ropes in a well-practiced athletic dance. They were well-matched, and for several minutes neither talked. Their grunts and heavy breathing, along with their shoes scraping on the hardwood floor echoing off the walls, were the only sounds in the room.
Ian knew Brooks’s weaknesses and his strengths, just like Brooks knew his. Ian waited for his chance, then took it when Brooks leaned to the side. Ian struck out as fast as lightning to land a solid punch to Brooks’s ribs.
Brooks grunted, then back stepped. “You fight like the devil, Swift.”
“You fight like a boy, Brooks.”
How to Tempt an Earl_Raven Club Page 13