“As a matter of fact, I am.” Sharing breakfast together had become something of a ritual for all of them. The only times he’d failed to join them in the past had been when he was out of town or had been ill. Which, aside from the occasional hunting trip or house party, had been far and few between.
“Where were you yesterday, Chase?” Sarah asked in a small voice, squeezing his arm and staring straight ahead.
“You remember I married a few days ago, don’t you?” he teased. “My wife and I are getting to know one another.”
“Do we get to meet her? Or are we going to have to hide from her too?”
Chase stilled.
It was Sarah who had innocently asked the question but her two older sisters watched carefully for his answer.
Was that how they felt? Hidden?
“I’m not—” But he had been. He’d hidden their existence from Bethany, until necessity required he tell her. Unless he went ahead with her idea, he’d be hiding them from the world indefinitely—hiding them from his world. “My wife knows all about the three of you, and she is quite looking forward to making your acquaintance. Later this week, on a day that she isn’t required to assist in the preparations for her sister’s debut.”
“There will always be something.” Diana sighed loudly.
“Ignore her, Chase. She’s being particularly difficult today.” Collette as always, was the peacemaker.
“And why is that?” Chase turned to Diana’s frowning face. Although he thought he spied a hint of remorse in her eyes.
All too often, one of their expressions or mannerisms reminded him of his father. If he’d ever had any doubt as to their paternity, he’d only have to look into any of their vibrantly blue eyes. Sarah’s were clouded, but she resembled their father in other ways. Her chin had the same little cleft and she had a distinct shrug to her shoulders.
Whereas the characteristics had once mostly provided a reminder of his father’s betrayal, they were now reminders that none of them were alone.
When Diana didn’t answer, Chase reached across and jostled her knee. “What’s got you out of sorts today?”
“Mama.” She didn’t meet his eyes. “I told her about the announcement in the paper… about Lady Tabetha’s debut. And I told her that I wished we could someday have one. Not as fancy, of course. And…”
“Mother slapped her,” Sarah provided. “Told her to stop thinking like that. That it would only lead to disappointment.”
Some of the pressure Bethany had helped relieve the day before returned to settle solidly on his shoulders once again.
“She’s just frustrated,” Collette explained.
Chase had initially hoped Beverly would make a full recovery from the effects of the apoplexy. She’d regained some of her speech and partial use of her right hand. But walking had been difficult, and she’d eventually given up trying.
Nonetheless… “She shouldn’t have hit you.”
Was Beverly correct, though, in keeping Diana from forming such expectations?
Chase smiled sympathetically at all of them. He’d thought he was doing right by them. Had his presence been as much of a reminder of their father’s failures to them as it had been to him?
Was there something more that he could do?
As their conversation moved to less sensitive subjects, and he took his tea and consumed a rock-like biscuit, Chase decided a visit with Blackheart was in order, and then later he would discuss all of this with Bethany.
He remembered what Blackheart had shared about Lord Lucas—that having one special person in the world could make a man stronger.
Since his father’s death, love had only ever served to drain him. Could Bethany’s love be any different?
Chapter 29
Wagering With Her Husband
Bethany had offered to assist her mother with last-minute preparations. It was something she had grown accustomed to, after all, and Well’s Place still felt very much like her home, but her mother had shooed her away. “Rest, and then wear one of the new gowns Madam Chantal sent over. Chaswick will be in attendance, of course? Our troubles have smoothed over considerably after such a spectacular performance at Blackheart’s ball, but one can never be too careful in such circumstances.”
“Have you heard anything that I should worry about?” Most incredibly, Bethany had already relegated the scandal to the back of her mind. There were more important things in life than society.
“Just a few stragglers with lingering doubts. Josephine believes all will be forgotten by Season’s end. For now, though, the two of you are in something of a … probationary period.”
Concern must have shown on her face because her mother then stepped forward to squeeze her in a reassuring embrace. “I am so very proud of you,” her mother said softly as she drew away.
In all of her adult life, Bethany’s mother had never come close to expressing such untethered approval. It was disconcerting. Not in a bad way, but… It shook her.
“You are proud? Of me?”
“I know of no other young lady who would have been as brave as you were, after the spectacle you made of yourself in the Willoughbys’ garden. At the time, I wholeheartedly believed all hope was lost.”
This—Bethany exhaled—was the mother she was more accustomed to.
“I didn’t face them alone.” Her fears had been easily endured with Chase at her side.
Her husband. A person who was also quickly becoming her best friend.
“It was important that all of us pull together. Josephine has never failed to help her friends. And Blackheart certainly did his part.”
They had worked wonders, Bethany conceded, but it wasn’t the same as having Chase at her side.
“Now, run along, dear. And wear your hair loose again, like you did at Heart Place. Makes you seem less like somebody’s governess.”
In the short drive to Byrde House—to her new home—her mother’s comments only summoned half the insecurities they’d done in the past.
She stared down at her hands. Her family loved her desperately, it was just that their love came with certain expectations—expectations that she be the person they’d always seen her to be.
That sort of love had made it difficult for her to try to be anyone other than the girl she’d always been—the peacekeeper, the comforter. If she tried something new, if she’d ever taken a risk and then failed, she would have disappointed them.
That love had trapped her inside the woman they had wanted her to be.
Was that why she hadn’t ever been able to flirt? Because that was Tabetha’s gift. Was that why she’d never attracted any proper suitors?
Bethany had been content in many aspects of her person—such as the desire to help those that she loved, the desire to maintain a calm and peaceful home, the desire to comfort anyone who might be in pain.
She had always liked herself in those ways. But she’d also been dissatisfied.
And now…
Being with Chase was showing her pieces of herself she’d kept hidden inside. Feminine pieces. Assertive pieces.
In her own eyes, even if not anyone else’s.
The carriage drew to a halt, and she experienced a pleasing warmth when, rather than one of the footmen, her husband’s face appeared in the open door.
“Perfect timing!” His eyes crinkled as he smiled in at her. How many years had she dreamed of such a scenario?
She reached for her reticule and leaned forward. “And how is that?”
Rather than offer his hand, he placed both on her waist and slowly lowered her onto the pavement.
Such a simple touch had her tingling inside. Happiness. This was happiness.
“Would it be scandalous if I kissed my wife on the street?” It was almost as though she’d made him tingle too.
“You’ve done far worse.”
He rolled his eyes. “In that case.” There was no need to complete his sentence when he showed her what he had in mind with a very delibera
te kiss.
Mr. Ingles cleared his throat from the opened doorway and Chase’s shoulders shook beneath her hands. “My butler disapproves.” He chuckled, his breath mingling with hers.
Bethany drew back and tucked her hand around his arm. “We do not want to draw the ire of your butler,” she whispered. Nor did they need to attract any unwanted attention.
Although Mr. Ingles was frowning, as any good butler would upon witnessing their behavior, she sensed a glimmer of approval in the man’s eyes.
Chase handed off his hat and cane and then guided her straight up the stairs and directly to his chamber.
“Do we have time…?”
“For…?” He shifted his stare to the bed, and dash it all, heat flooded her cheeks. “There is always time for that.”
“It’s just that once you get started, you keep me occupied for hours.”
“Is that a dare?” He had her pressed against him again, much less politely than their embrace on the street. His knee was pushing through her skirts, edging her knees apart. “I can have you satisfied and breathless in less than five minutes.” He bent his head, pushing her bodice down with his mouth.
“Would you care to wager on that?” Five minutes. She could hold him off for five minutes. It wasn’t as though she was a complete wanton.
“Oh, sweetheart. You really need to recognize when you are out of your depths.” The scraping of stubble along her breasts served as fair warning. She clutched his arms with her hands and twisted to read the clock on the mantle.
“It’s quarter past the hour,” she murmured vaguely.
“If I haven’t brought you to completion by twenty after—” Good God, she was already halfway there. “—then you’ll allow me to bend you over my knee later tonight, after the ball.”
“But that would be scandalous. Is that something you’d dare with a proper lady?”
“Yes. And this time, there will be no one around to stop me.”
She trembled at the thought. Not because she was afraid but because ever since…
“You’re on.” How many times had she heard him, or her brother, or any of their other gentlemen friends accept a wager in such a manner?
Chase stopped his sensual onslaught long enough to stare into her eyes. “You know I’ll never hurt you.” The words sounded like much more than just a promise—more like a vow. Not a declaration of love, but it had potential.
She’d be satisfied with what he could give her—for now.
“I know.” She lifted herself onto her toes so she could reach his lips. When she dropped back down, the smile she sent him felt extraordinarily wicked. “You’ve wasted almost a full minute, husband.”
Of course, she’d already decided he could have his way with her later tonight, but that didn’t mean she would allow him an easy victory.
“You’ll do just as I say? You’ll cooperate?”
“Of course.” When had her voice come to sound so breathy?
Her heart raced as she anticipated what he would do next.
Only he did not sweep her into his arms and kiss her senseless. Or take a knife to the fasteners of her gown. In fact, he stepped away and crossed his arms in front of him.
“Climb onto the bed.”
Her heart beat even louder now. As gracefully as she could manage, she scrambled up the two steps and lowered herself onto the mattress. In the spirit of competition, she arranged herself daintily, knees pressed together, not quite curled beneath her.
“Ah, ah ah.” He took one step toward her. “Lay back.”
She did as he said.
“Gather your skirts up to your hips.”
Her breath hitched. Drat him, his gravelly voice alone had desire skating down her spine.
Was he going to use his hands again? His mouth? Was he going to put himself inside? Not knowing what would come next sent wet heat to her core.
“You enjoy seeing… everything? Watching?” she whispered, slowly scrunching the material of her gown into her fists.
She’d never taken to wearing pantaloons as some ladies did. Her only undergarments, a light chemise, stockings, and garters, would do nothing to provide any modesty.
Perhaps he was right. Perhaps she was out of her depths.
“Higher, sweetheart. And open your legs, Beth. I love seeing you—all of you—so pink and soft.” The baritone sounds of his voice dropped lower. He’d moved closer to the bed but refrained from touching her. “Plump. Glistening with desire.”
Was she even breathing?
She bent one knee but lay back, exposed, staring at the ceiling and waiting for his next move.
Craving it with her entire being.
“Now touch yourself.”
“You mean…?”
“Show me what you would do if I wasn’t here.”
How would he know such a thing?
She squeezed her eyes together at the same time her fists clenched her gown tightly.
“You’re wasting my time, Beth. Do you wish to forfeit?”
And to think, she had been the one to dare him!
What he suggested was beyond anything she’d ever, not in a thousand years, contemplated. Then again, she’d thought the same thing on their first night. And each night after that…
She released her gown and moved her hand to between her legs. Daring, reckless, and feeling oddly empowered, she tentatively brushed at the soft curls of hair.
A warm hand wrapped around her ankle and he stroked the skin there with his thumb.
“That’s my girl.” The excitement in his voice emboldened her.
Who was she? Not the Bethany her family knew her to be, that was for certain.
Her own arousal soaked her fingers, and then her palm. She ought to be embarrassed, mortified.
His rasping breath excited her imagination. What did he see? What was he thinking? What did he want?
“Triston.” She thrust her hips forward, widening her knees, moving, sliding.
“So beautiful. So perfect.” Chase’s hand slid up her thigh. When his fingers penetrated her opening and stroked her inside, she splintered in half, and then in half again and then into a million pieces. White lights flashed behind her eyelids as her climax rolled through her.
When she finally landed on earth once again, Chase was lying beside her, his hand holding hers in the most intimate of places.
“A minute to spare.” He kissed the skin near her ear.
“Bollocks,” she uttered, not really bothered to have lost this particular bet.
Even though her eyes were closed, she could feel him watching her.
“I’ve been thinking.” His voice sounded far too alert. Next, he was smoothing her gown to cover her modestly and then propping himself up on his elbow.
“Is thinking really necessary?” Bethany smiled, her eyes still closed and her breathing deep and even. Two minutes more and she would have been asleep.
“Quite.” His hand rested on her abdomen, just below her breasts. “Blackheart believes we can pass my sisters off as distant cousins. He says he knows of at least two other prominent families who’ve done just that.”
He had taken her idea to heart! She opened her eyes and met his stare. “Your mother isn’t the same person she was a decade ago,” she suggested carefully. “And although she would realize the deception, I’ve no doubt she’ll accept whichever reality suits her.” Bethany didn’t want him to feel pressured to do anything he might regret. She would never forgive herself if she was wrong.
But Chase’s eyes were thoughtful and serious. “I hadn’t realized how much I was hurting the girls.”
“You spoke with them about it?”
He shook his head. “No. But they think I’m ashamed of them. I want to protect my mother, but I’m hurting them in the process. I had myself convinced that they didn’t mind. I was wrong.”
Bethany turned to her side so that she was facing him. Not many people acknowledged their own mistakes like this. “Take time to think it over. S
o much has happened in the past few days. There’s no reason to hurry.”
“I will. I just wanted you to know.” He touched the side of her face. “It’s a good idea. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself.”
It was possibly one of the nicest things in the world—to have one’s ideas appreciated. The words ‘I love you’ hovered on her lips but she bit them back. All of this was new. She didn’t want to ruin it.
Chapter 30
Ups and Downs
In all the years Chase had known Bethany, how was it that he’d never noticed that the delicate arch of her back was perfect or that the pale skin of her neck and shoulders was… swanlike.
How had he never noticed what a spectacularly beautiful woman she was?
She was sitting at her vanity with her back to him as Polly made last-minute adjustments to her hair when she caught his gaze in the reflection. He swallowed hard.
Because in that moment, he was not alone. This unexpected connection went beyond anything legal, or physical even. It was almost as though she was the other half of his soul.
He shook his head, dismissing the thought. Damned Blackheart had put fantastically unrealistic ideas into his head.
He enjoyed her company. He cared for her. He couldn’t imagine ever tiring of making love to her. But to contemplate emotions beyond any of these…
Her smile faltered and then brightened just as quickly.
“Should I await you in my study?”
“Oh, no. One moment. I just need my shoes.” Which, of course, had him remembering her ankles, her knees, and the butterfly-like skin of her creamy thighs.
He clasped his hands at his back and strolled across the room to glower out the window. How had one woman managed to insert herself so completely into his life? Staring at the familiar scene, he tugged at his cravat and then fussed with the cuffs of his sleeves.
“I’m ready.” So sweet, even her voice affected him.
He spun around and although he’d prepared himself this time, he experienced a squeezing in his heart.
Cocky Baron: Regency Cocky Gents (Book 2) Page 24