The Most to Lose

by Landon, Laura

  With that, Amanda gave Hadleigh a regal curtsy that was anything but sincere and turned away from him to walk across the ballroom to where Quigley stood.

  Celie had never seen her brother left speechless in his life, but there wasn’t another word to describe him. He stared after Amanda, his brows arched in disbelief, his jaw dropped in incredulity, and his first two attempts at speech unsuccessful.

  “If I thought you would adhere to my wishes,” her brother said, looking at Celie as if he’d like to throttle her—except she doubted she was the one he wanted to throttle, “I would forbid you to have contact with Lady Amanda ever again. She is impossible.”

  “It’s good you realize to make such a demand would be a waste of your breath.”

  Hadleigh gave her one last glance, then, without a farewell, strode off to find the nearest drink.

  But not before Celie noticed he’d turned toward the dance floor to take a final look at Amanda and Quigley dancing the first waltz.

  “It seems I’m not the only person who is capable of raising Hadleigh’s temper,” Jonah said, watching Celie’s brother reach for the glass a footman standing behind a reception table handed him, then drinking the contents in one swallow.

  “Interesting, isn’t it?” Celie said, having observed several peculiar encounters between Amanda and Hadleigh, but never such a volatile confrontation. And never such a display of bravado from Amanda.

  “Do you think Quigley’s name is on Lady Amanda’s card for this waltz?” Jonah asked.

  “What do you think?”

  Jonah smiled. “I think I owe Lady Amanda a debt of gratitude. Which means,” he said, extending his hand, “that I’d best make use of the time she allowed us. Would you care to stroll through the gardens with me, Lady Cecelia?”

  “I’d love to.” Celie placed her hand atop Jonah’s arm and walked with him through the double French doors that led to Lady Writhington’s lavish gardens.

  “There’s something I’d like to discuss with you, Celie.” He took her to the far corner of the garden, where a cozy white-latticed gazebo faced a small pond.

  Rumor had it the gazebo and pond were small replicas of a larger, more lavish gazebo and lake situated on Writhington’s country estate. Celie had never seen it, but she could envision it and, more than anything, wished to have something similar when she had a home of her own.

  The atmosphere was perfect. Very romantic.

  Celie sat on a bench overlooking the man-made pond and realized how breathtakingly beautiful it was with the full moon shining overhead. Its shimmering brightness glimmered on the quiet water, which caused the scene in front of her to be picture-perfect.

  She watched it for several calming seconds before she realized that Jonah hadn’t come to sit beside her on the bench, but was pacing back and forth in front of her.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  “That remains to be seen.”

  “Very well.” Celie clutched her hands more tightly in her lap. “Why don’t you explain the reason you need to talk to me before I jump to several conclusions? None of which I want to consider.”

  He stopped pacing and looked at her. “What conclusions would those be?”

  “For one, that you would like to warn me against reading too much into our friendship. That even though you like me, perhaps have even grown fond of me, that you have the need to experience the companionship of other young ladies.”

  “Is that what you think?”

  Celie found the look of incredulity on his face a bit reassuring. But not completely. “Such a thought is not beyond the realm of possibility,” she answered.

  “Let me assure you that it is.”

  Celie’s heart shifted in her breast.

  “In fact,” he continued as he sat beside her on the bench, “such an idea is the furthest thought from my mind.”

  He gathered her hands in his and held them. Molten heat moved to every part of her body.

  His hands were strong and powerful. His touch gentle, yet reassuring.

  Before she became acquainted with Jonah, her brother was the most formidable man she knew. But he paled in comparison. The difference was that Jonah possessed a quiet strength that left her feeling safe and secure, whereas Hadleigh’s strength elicited fear.

  Where Hadleigh demanded attention, Jonah deserved it. His calming demeanor, his regal carriage, and his impressive aptitude combined to make him a remarkable person. He’d been a captain in the war, and Celie understood why. He possessed outstanding leadership qualities and an amazing ability to garner trust.

  “Is something wrong, Jonah?”

  He shook his head. “No, everything is fine. It’s just that…”

  She waited.

  He rose to his feet and paced the small confines of the gazebo. “It’s just that…”

  He stopped in front of her and looked at her. “It’s that I find I am terribly fond of you, Celie. As you know, I introduced myself to you for the purpose of gaining my foothold back into society. I knew Hadleigh would be my biggest obstacle in being accepted by my peers and thought making your acquaintance would help me achieve my goal. I’ve never lied to you about that.”

  “And I told you that I understood why you had to do it.”

  “But I didn’t expect to become so fond of you. I didn’t expect to admire you so.” He paused. “And I didn’t expect to want to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you.”

  Celie struggled to find her voice. “What did you say?”

  “I have nothing to offer you.” His regal stance reminded her of the officer he still was in many ways. “My debts are enormous. People will say I am marrying you for your dowry.”

  “Are you?”

  He didn’t flinch. “In part, yes. I won’t lie to you. The debts I inherited when I assumed my title were staggering. I am in desperate need of the money that might someday come with you.”

  “There are a number of other wealthy females inside that ballroom who would be ecstatic to be your wife. Why didn’t you choose one of them?”

  “Because I don’t want anyone else. I’ve discovered I only want you.”

  Celie swallowed past the lump in her throat. She blinked fast to stop the tears from welling in her eyes. Jonah sat beside her and gathered her hands in his. A fresh wave of strength engulfed her.

  “If I marry you,” she said when she could speak, “people will think you’re only marrying me to exact some sort of revenge on Hadleigh.”

  Jonah smiled. “More than likely, yes. They will also say that you chose poorly. That you could have had any one of a dozen men more deserving to be your husband than me and that you made an unwise decision.”

  Now it was Celie’s turn to smile. “It’s more likely they will say that you have made the unwise decision and will now have to live with my plainness for the rest of your life.”

  Jonah ran the back of his fingers down her cheek. “I can think of nothing I’d rather do.”

  Celie wanted him to kiss her. She wanted to experience the emotions that engulfed her when he held her in his arms and kissed her. She wanted to touch him and feel his warmth beneath her fingertips, but she wanted to feel his flesh without the barrier of clothing. And that thought shocked her.

  “Jonah, would you kiss me?”

  He smiled. “It would be my pleasure,” he answered her, then lowered his head and kissed her.

  The myriad of emotions that shot through her as he deepened his kiss caused her mind to spiral in a hundred different directions. Even sitting on a bench didn’t prevent her legs from turning weak beneath her. But most disturbing of all was the warmth that settled low inside her stomach. So low she wasn’t sure she could put a name to where the liquid heat was located or why only Jonah was able to affect her there.

  Jonah opened his mouth, and she matched his movements. She wanted his invasion, ached to submit to his possession, but not in any form of weakness. Only in a combative manner that left them both breathless and
yearning for more.

  She waited for his tongue to enter, then met his assault with an attack of her own. She confronted him with a boldness she never thought herself capable of. She battled him with the skill of one practiced in the art of kissing. Except she wasn’t. She’d had so little experience that she was amazed at where her bravery and knowledge came from.

  She only knew that when Jonah kissed her there wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do or allow.

  She leaned into him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  A low moan echoed in the moonlight, but she wasn’t sure where it had come from. All she was aware of was the fiery brand his touch caused as he moved over her flesh.

  Her arms seared as he slid his fingers from her shoulders to her wrist. Her sides and stomach erupted in flames as he moved up her middle to her breasts.

  She knew he intended to touch her there but wasn’t sure she’d be able to tolerate the sensation without bursting into flames.

  She leaned closer to him, encouraging him to give her what her body was so eager to have. Yet she wasn’t quite sure she knew exactly what that was.

  Then he deepened his kiss even more and touched her.

  Celie made a low moan that echoed against her ears, then nearly shattered into a million pieces.

  Jonah began his assault again, but pulled abruptly away when a loud, angry voice shouted his name.

  “Haywood! Damn you, Haywood!”

  Jonah kept his arm around her shoulder as if he knew she was helpless to stay upright on her own if he let her go.

  “Don’t move,” he whispered. “I’ll take care of this.”

  Celie watched as Jonah slowly turned.

  “Did you need something, Your Grace?” he asked.

  “I need—no, I demand you take your hands off my sister!”

  Celie could hear Hadleigh’s heavy footsteps pound toward them as he came down the flagstone walk. She could hear the anger in his voice. And she didn’t care.

  She sat straight, putting a decent degree of distance between Jonah and herself, then smiled when she lifted her gaze and stared into Jonah’s battle-ready demeanor.

  Jonah smiled back at her, then rose to his feet.

  She’d never feared her brother, never been intimidated by him the way people who didn’t know him were. Suddenly, she doubted her own sanity. The last thing she should experience was humor, but she did. She found the situation…exhilarating.

  She wiped the smile from her face and rose to her feet to stand beside Jonah. He’d taken a step in front of her to shield her, as if she needed his protection from her brother.

  “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “I am having a discussion with your sister. A discussion you rudely interrupted.”

  “If the scene I just witnessed is any indication of what you think constitutes a discussion, it’s a damn good thing I interrupted when I did.”

  Celie sensed Jonah’s exception and placed a calming hand on the rigid muscles that ran up and down his arms. He didn’t look at her, but she felt the knots ease.

  “I’d be very careful of what kind of accusations you’re making,” Jonah said in a voice that sounded like the former captain issuing a command. Something Hadleigh was totally unfamiliar having directed at him.

  The air sparked with unleashed tension, and Celie could see that the anger Hadleigh harbored for Jonah even after three years still simmered inside him. The elation she’d experienced only moments ago died.

  What if Hadleigh refused to allow her to marry Jonah? What if he refused to turn over her dowry?

  Oh, she was of age and could marry without Hadleigh’s consent. But she was helpless to do anything about the dowry that was to come with her. Hadleigh had control of it. Hadleigh had to approve of the man she married, or she would go to her marriage penniless.

  Jonah had already told her that one of the reasons he wanted to marry her was because of the money that would come with her. But if she came with no money…

  She was frantic to stop them before one or the other said something that would be irreparable.

  “I’m not blind, Haywood. And I’m not stupid. The female you were treating like a—”

  “Enough, Sterling!” Celie took a step forward. She stood like a barrier between the two battling men. Jonah stepped close enough to feel the heat of his body radiate against her back. “You will stop this infernal battle of words right now.”

  The Duke of Hadleigh gave her an angry glare, but Celie didn’t back down. She knew if she did, she’d lose Jonah forever.

  “You are causing a scene, Sterling,” she added, shifting her gaze to the edge of the terrace where several guests had gathered.

  Every time the Earl of Haywood and the Duke of Hadleigh were anywhere near each other, all eyes remained riveted to the two of them the entire time. No one wanted to miss seeing a resurgence of the bitterness between the two rivals. Celie knew her brother didn’t need to turn around to see that her words were true.

  “Please erase that scowl from your face and lower your voice. It’s not necessary to provide any more fodder for the gossip mills than they already have at their disposal.”

  Her brother’s shoulders relaxed and he took a step closer to them. At least now, perhaps, the guests wouldn’t overhear every word they said.

  “Was your intent to make a spectacle of my sister?” Hadleigh said, directing his insult to Jonah.

  Celie answered before Jonah had a chance.

  “Lord Haywood didn’t make me a spectacle, Hadleigh.” She paused to let her next words reap their full impact. “Unless you are insinuating that simply by wanting to spend time alone with me, Lord Haywood made a spectacle of me.”

  Her accusation stunned her brother and Celie was glad. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again as if words weren’t at his disposal.

  “You know that isn’t what I meant, Cecelia,” he said.

  “Unfortunately, that is exactly what I thought you meant.”

  “Then I owe you an apology.”

  Celie smiled at her brother. This was indeed a consolation. “Apology accepted, Your Grace.”

  “Perhaps we should return to the ball,” Jonah said, taking charge of the situation. He took a step forward until he was even with Celie but addressed himself to the Duke of Hadleigh. “But I would first like permission to call on you tomorrow, Your Grace.”

  Hadleigh’s eyebrows shot upward. “Concerning my sister?”

  Jonah turned toward her and lowered his gaze. “Yes. Concerning Lady Cecelia.”

  Their gazes met and held in the moonlight, and she saw a look she’d only dreamed of seeing in a man’s eyes.

  Even though she only had a cloudless sky and Lady Writhington’s garden lanterns to go by, she saw it plain as if it were daytime. There was a glimmer in his eyes that mirrored the smile on his face and…she’d never seen anything so wonderful in her life.

  “I’ll expect your visit in the morning,” the Duke of Hadleigh replied, then turned to go back to the Writhington ball.

  “Don’t worry,” Jonah whispered to Celie when Hadleigh had walked through the small group of onlookers on the terrace. “Everything will be all right.”

  It was only when Jonah loosened her rigid fingers that Celie realized her fingers were digging into his arm. “I think they will, too, but I won’t feel better until after you’ve talked to my brother.”

  Jonah turned to her and held her gently by the shoulders. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  Celie couldn’t help but smile. In fact, she was nearly giddy just knowing there was a possibility she would be marrying the man with whom she’d been in love her whole life. “I’m sure. And I’d show you exactly how sure I am if we still didn’t have an audience straining to get a glimpse of us in the darkness.”

  Jonah laughed, then lowered his head and whispered in her ear. “As long as they’re watching so intently, it would be a shame to disappoint them.”

&
nbsp; And he leaned down and lightly kissed her cheek.

  Chapter 10

  Sterling Randolph, Duke of Hadleigh, watched the Earl of Haywood mount his horse and ride away. He’d given him a complete list of all the debts he’d paid for him. The amount was staggering, but well worth any dent to his coffers. No amount was too much when it came to exacting revenge on the man who’d killed his Melisande.

  He wanted to declare victory, but it was too early to celebrate. He couldn’t count on anything until Cecelia came to her senses, until she realized what a blackguard Haywood truly was and broke off any association with him. Only then would it be too late for Haywood to escape the trap he’d set for him.

  Hadleigh returned to his study and poured himself a glass of the special brandy he’d had brought up from his cellar. He at least intended to toast the progress so far.

  Haywood was well on his way to losing it all.

  Hadleigh anticipated a few moments of privacy in which to celebrate, but the knock on his door stopped him. He looked up to see Cecelia enter the room.

  “Fitzhugh said Jonah was here a short while ago.” She rushed across the thick Turkish carpet and stopped a few feet from his chair. There was something different about her. A certain glow he’d never noticed before.

  “Yes, he was here.”

  Hadleigh watched the smile on her face reach her eyes. She wasn’t a beauty like Melisande had been, but for the first time, he noticed there was something quite attractive about her.

  He tried to remember when his sister’s looks had changed but couldn’t. Now, though, she had the look of a woman who was…happy.

  Surely her feelings for Haywood weren’t serious enough to be unalterable?

  “Well, are you going to tell me what he came to discuss? Or am I going to have to go ask Jonah?”

  He leaned back in his chair. “Come, sit down, Cecelia.”

  A frown covered his sister’s forehead. “You didn’t refuse him, did you?”

  He’d seen that expression before: the firm set of Cecelia’s mouth, the hard glare in her eyes, the pout of her lips. Everything about her was the same as it always was when she was determined to get her way.