His Perfect Game

by Jenn Langston

  “Lord Merrick and I spoke of the future the other day.” She paused as her mother’s hand covered her mouth. “A short time after we are wed, I’ll be moving to Merrick to live while my husband remains in London.”

  Her mother closed her eyes tightly. “Thank God. You will be spared.”

  “I spoke to Julia about it, and she knows of many married women who live in the same manner.”

  “Truly blessed women,” her mother whispered, opening her eyes. They were red, and Abigail suspected unshed tears burned them.

  “Yes, but do you not see? It’s acceptable. Father does not want us here. He could send you to Donetic, or even better, he could let you go back with Braiden to Hauney. I know Braiden would be honored to have you living with him.”

  The smile twisting her mother’s mouth was mocking. “You don’t understand. Your father does want me here.”

  “He clearly does not. Why else would he—”

  “Because he takes pleasure in it. He would never send me away. Doing so would make him miss the power he receives from keeping someone at his mercy.” She stood, encouraging Abigail to follow suit. “Now, enough about this. Lady Laramie’s ball is this evening, and I know how much you enjoy attending.”

  Abigail obediently exited the room. Although thoughts of the upcoming ball filled her head, she could not find any excitement in it. Her stomach twisted to think of her mother here, forced to face the duke’s wrath alone.

  She had to do something. She had to try to save her.

  Greyson surveyed the room, and, as usual, felt impressed by the lengths Lady Laramie went through for her guest’s enjoyment. Everything about the ballroom elicited feelings of cold, but it also spoke of elegance.

  The servant’s clothing and faces were shrouded in white as was every other surface he could see. The floor was dusted with a fine powder to give off the illusion of snow. From time to time, little flecks of white cascaded down from elaborately erected structures to add to the mixture on the floor.

  Following along the perimeter of the room, he discovered the rumors held truth. He counted four pieces of ice resting in basins large enough to hold a grown man. Each block of ice had one servant behind it, fanning the cool air toward the guests, and another to remove excess water from the basin.

  The effect proved extraordinary, but Greyson couldn’t fathom going through so much trouble and expense for one night. Although, seeing the number of guests crammed in the room made him reassess his thoughts. An unusual idea had the ability to draw people in, but as the son-in-law of the duke, he would no longer need to consider such plans.

  Stopping in front of the card room, Greyson hesitated. His fingers itched to play, to test his skill once again. For so long the game had only been about beating the duke, but now that feat had been achieved. Teetering at the edge of the room, he took a deep breath, knowing if he entered, he would be unable to leave until late in the evening.

  “Care to test your luck against me again?” the devil’s voice of temptation called from behind him.

  Turning, Greyson faced the duke. “Thank you, but I’ll pass.”

  “Afraid to lose? I have bested you before, I can do it again.”

  Working carefully to refrain from accepting the challenge, Greyson glanced back into the card room. The men inside were either drunk on the idea of winning, or disillusioned, yet desperate to hold one last winning hand. Greyson realized he didn’t belong to that crowd.

  “Perhaps another time.” Greyson swung his gaze back to the duke, who wore a smug smile.

  “I look forward to it. It will be an honor to show you who truly holds the power.”

  Greyson ignored the comment, stepping past the man and the no-longer-appealing card room. With His Grace present, he knew Lady Willimena had arrived. He decided that as soon as he heard a waltz, he would approach his betrothed and take her into his arms.

  Seeing her across the room, he postponed his greeting to watch her. The white gown matched the theme well, as did many of the costumes in the room, but unlike the other guests, hers was outdated. He wondered why she always dressed out of fashion. The duke could easily garb her and his wife in the most stylish and expensive garments, but he didn’t.

  As Greyson thought over his knowledge of the duke, either heard or observed, something appeared out of place. Outwardly, the duke upheld the pinnacle of everything Society hoped to be. His fortune was vast. His estates well managed. And he boasted a beautiful wife who’d given him an heir and a daughter. Could his contentment with his life be a façade?

  The notes of a waltz brushed the thoughts from his mind. Focusing on his betrothed, he made his way across the room. Lady Willimena must have felt his attention, for her gaze locked with his. Her body lightly shuddered, forcing his muscles to tighten in anticipation. She felt the spark, he was certain.

  Without a word to break the spell, he offered his arm. The heat of her hand singed him, making his breathing quicken. He had to expend an effort to wait until he led her among the other dancing couples to pull her into his arms.

  When he encircled her waist with an arm, feeling her generous curves, he was satisfied. It felt like pure heaven to have her so close. Unfamiliar emotions assaulted him, discomforting him. His rational mind told him the feelings stemmed from the fact that she remained the only woman he shared a connection with who wasn’t a mistress. Surely the feeling would disappear after their wedding night.

  His moves were confident as he guided her around the room. Having the foresight to receive lessons from Melisande last year had been wise. Recalling how the majority of those lessons ended made his member swell as he imagined Lady Willimena in Melisande’s place.

  He reined in his desire as he remembered he would not have an opportunity. The only night he would be awarded was the wedding night. From what he knew, that night never turned out pleasant. He could not foresee the results of that evening considering he had no experience with innocents.

  “My lord, would you care for a stroll on the terrace?” Lady Willimena asked once the song ended.

  “I would be honored.” Heat flashed through his body. She wanted to be alone with him. For a moment, he imagined their marriage could turn into something more, then he realized her father must have put her up to it. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, but it was just as well. He had no business thinking such things.

  Leading her outside, he paused to see the theme extended to the garden as well. Similar to the ballroom, white fabric blanketed the area. Candles in blue vases had been set throughout the paths, creating an icy glow. Overall, he found the theme had more success outside.

  Once he navigated them to a vacant path, he turned to face his betrothed. The blue lights on her pale skin and white dress made her look ethereal. Mixed with the sad look in her eyes, she could have been a ghost, doomed to haunt the gardens in search of something she lost.

  “Everything’s so magical,” she observed, touching one of the snowflakes in the bushes.

  “Lady Laramie never disappoints.”

  “You have attended before?”

  Her surprise came as an insult, but he worked to ignore his resentment. “The Marquis of Stonemede is a friend and has allowed me to infringe on his invitations in the past. This year, your father did the honors.”

  “I’m sure Lady Laramie is pleased to have you as a guest. Your yearly devotion to her event surely is a boon as well.”

  “She will be more content next year when I will be known for more than being a bastard.”

  “How did you get the title?”

  As soon as the words left her lips, she covered her mouth with her hand. Although the question must have been plaguing her for some time, he could see her shock that she’d asked. He supposed he should be pleased she felt comfortable enough, but he could not force the emotion. Turning away, he studied the snowflakes.

  “It was left to me in the usual way.”

  “What do you mean?”

  His eyes shot back t
o her as his irritation grew. “Is that why you asked me out here? To pry into my childhood? I can’t see how any of it is relevant now. The facts remain the same.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her chin wobbled as she took a step back. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I never should have asked.”

  As her wide eyes watched him, no doubt waiting for his reaction, her body didn’t move. He didn’t understand her response. What did she expect?

  “It’s done.” He shrugged, feeling guilty for snapping at her. In all his years, he’d never been directly asked about anything pertaining to his parents. Knowing the sensitivity of the subject, most people skirted the issue and kept their opinions to themselves. Why did Lady Willimena have to be different?

  She nodded then after a few seconds, she straightened her back and focused her unwavering gaze upon him. “That isn’t why I wanted to talk to you. I have another matter to discuss.”

  When she didn’t continue, he pressed. “Which is?”

  “My mother.” Her chest rose as she took a deep breath. He also noticed how tightly she clasped her hands together. Something about this subject troubled her.

  “Is there something specific about Her Grace you would like to discuss, or is it the woman in general?”

  She offered a weak smile. “Specific. Once I reside at Merrick, I will no longer see her. We are quite close, and . . . it shall be difficult without her near.”

  He was surprised she thought he intended to exile her from Society as well as her family. “Simply because you live in the country doesn’t mean you are not allowed to entertain guests. There is also no trouble with you visiting London from time to time. You will find I’m a reasonable man.”

  Although she couldn’t make weekly trips to London, she could easily make an occasional journey. Regardless of how they were brought together, he wanted her to be happy.

  “I appreciate your offer, my lord. However, I hoped for something different.”

  She averted her gaze, and he noted that her hands either fidgeted with her dress or tugged on her gloves incessantly. He knew he would not like her suggestion.

  “Such as?”

  “If she came to live at Merrick with me, we would have no need for lengthy trips, nor would we require letters to be sent. We deal very well together and could live amicably. My mother is quiet and keeps to herself. When you visited, she would stay out of your way. She requires very little.” The words rushed from her mouth, leaving her breathless.

  “Why would your parents move to Merrick when they have two perfectly acceptable estates at their disposal?”

  “Not my father. Only my mother.”

  Greyson’s eyes widened, and his mouth almost fell open. Surely her mother didn’t wish to run away from her husband. The thought alone verged on absurdity. The duchess would not have suggested such a thing. Obviously the request came from a desperate attempt from a daughter concerned with the idea of living alone.

  “I know you will miss her,” he said in a placating tone, “but in time you will accustom yourself to your new situation. Besides, your mother would not be happy living a different life.”

  He reached out to touch her arm in a comforting manner, but she stepped back.

  “Yes, she would. If you allow it, I assure you, she will leave everything behind.”

  “Are you asking me to harbor your mother without her husband’s knowledge? Because I can’t see the duke agreeing to this.”

  “I am.” She held her head high and looked him straight in the eyes.

  For a second time, Greyson felt his mouth almost drop open. How could the duchess be so unhappy with her lot in life that she would wish to escape it? From his dealings, the duke appeared to be an attentive husband. Perhaps she longed for another man and would use her daughter to aid her in cuckolding her husband.

  His teeth clenched. He would not be a part of it. “Without even considering the moral issues changing her living arrangements would raise, do you have any idea what your father would do when he found out?”

  “He would never know.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Greyson crossed the path to stare off into the night and clear his mind. “You could not hide her. Eventually he would find her.”

  “But I could—”

  “No. I will not allow it. I suspect neither one of us would care for the results from either party.”

  He turned to see tears welling in her eyes before she dropped her head. He would not be swayed. Not only was her request improper, but the duke would meet him on the wrong side of a pistol if he attempted such a thing. If the duchess truly wanted away from her husband, which he found unlikely, she would have to find another means of doing so.

  “I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time, my lord,” Lady Willimena said through a veil of unshed tears. “I would appreciate if you could escort me back to my mother.”

  Nodding, he offered his arm. Although he loathed ending the evening like this, he didn’t know what he could say to alleviate her distress. What would she do after they were wed and an escort to her mother would no longer offer her a reprieve from their argument? He imagined the two of them would both need lessons on how to end a disagreement. The thought of taking his wife to see his ex-mistress to be tutored gave him the sudden urge to laugh. Over the past month, he had discovered more reasons for joy than he had since before his parents’ death. Was it due to the realization of his goals, or the woman beside him?

  Peering down through her glasses and into her confused eyes, he felt his face softening. What had she done to him? As he reached up to cup her cheek, she didn’t flinch or pull back. Could she want him to kiss her as much as he wanted to?

  He watched her as his thumb lightly stroked her warm skin. When her eyes fell to his mouth, her lips parted. Pleased with the confirmation of her desire, he slowly leaned forward and brushed her lips with his. He wanted to savor the moment.

  Without hesitation, she put her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth more firmly against his. Her eagerness made him groan, and, desperate to be closer to her, he wrapped his arms around her.

  Anticipation gripped him as his trousers grew tighter. Normally it took longer for passion to break through the walls he’d built around his emotions, but not with her. Never with her.

  His lips trailed down her face to her neck. As his tongue lapped at her sensitive flesh, her fingers dug into his hair. So clouded with lust, his mind could only think of ways to have her here, right now.

  “Unhand my sister,” a furious male voice demanded.

  Greyson wanted to growl and bellow at the interruption, and make it clear she belonged to him. Instead, he did as ordered and stepped back. Lady Willimena’s swollen lips were parted and her eyelids lowered. Gone was the sadness he’d witnessed only moments ago, and he rejoiced at having been the one to remove her pain.

  “I should kill you right now, but I suspect my father would prefer to be the one to do the honors,” the man continued. His hands balled into fists as he placed himself between Greyson and Lady Willimena.

  The corners of Greyson’s vision tinted red. The man had stepped over the line by trying to shield his betrothed from him. Taking a few breaths, Greyson tried to become his emotionless self, but it fought back. His emotions remained much too close to the surface.

  “Braiden,” Lady Willimena chastised. “This is Viscount Merrick, my betrothed.” As she stepped around her brother, Greyson could see her blushing face. “Lord Merrick, this is my brother, Braiden Everett, Marquis of Hauney.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Greyson ground out.

  Hauney reeled back as if surprised, but he quickly regained himself. “Considering you are her betrothed, you will not die tonight, but it would behoove you to find some manners.”

  Greyson narrowed his eyes. “Perhaps, but it would be to your advantage to remain out of matters not pertaining to you. I did nothing against the lady’s consent.”

  “As you say.”

  Greyson kept his
gaze fastened on Hauney’s in a silent battle, until the man glanced back at his sister. “I don’t suppose you would mind if I escorted my sister back to the ballroom.”

  Greyson nodded his ascent, although he would have much rather denied the request out of pettiness. As they walked away, he realized he needed a chance to regain himself.

  After a few minutes more in the cool air, he felt better. His emotions were tucked tightly away, and his body had returned to a semi-normal state.

  Although he hated to have been reprimanded like a schoolboy, he felt grateful for the interruption before matters escalated. If he was unable to find the control he normally exhibited, he could not trust himself to be alone with Lady Willimena. He only had a short time left to wait until he could satisfy this ache for her. After that, everything could return to normal.

  Chapter 5

  Abigail and her mother sat in the drawing room embroidering pillowcases to donate to Lady Minor’s fundraiser. Every year the woman collected donations for the cause she latched onto at that moment and hosted a gathering to sell the items at high prices. Abigail would applaud the woman for her selflessness, but she knew better. Lady Minor hosted the event for recognition, not for the people involved.

  For some inexplicable reason, the theme of her embroideries was snowflakes. The night of the ice ball had been both disheartening and exhilarating for Abigail. Deep down she already knew Lord Merrick would deny her request to have her mother at Merrick, but she had to try. Her disappointment only lasted until he looked at her with longing and awe on his face.

  Thinking of how he’d held her close and kissed her two nights ago made her heart race and fingers tremble. Nothing could have prepared her for the intense pleasure of his lips teasing her neck. Had Braiden not arrived, she didn’t know what she would have done.

  After her brother had escorted her back to her mother, he disappeared and didn’t speak to her for the remainder of the evening. Then yesterday, her embarrassment had forced her to avoid him. He’d not gone easy on Lord Merrick, and she didn’t expect him to be any more lenient on her.