A raw, vulnerable expression came over his face before he masked it. “I told you why. Because Celia—”
“Ah, yes. Your sister needs you to.” She didn’t know whether to admire his loyalty to his family, or despise his arrogant assumption that his plan was best for everyone. “And you don’t care what woman you hurt in the process.”
With a sigh, he bent his head to nuzzle her cheek. “I’m not trying to hurt you. I need a wife, and you need a husband. Why not make it easy and marry each other?”
The words tore into her. “I don’t want a husband who marries me out of pity for my situation. Or because he wants his sister to gain her inheritance.”
His hand moved over her breast again, softly, delicately. “Does this feel like pity to you? Does this feel like mercenary intent?” When she sucked in a harsh breath, he added, “I’ve had seven months to find a wife, sweetheart, and you’re the first woman I’ve even considered. Do you want to know why?”
Lord, yes.
“You rouse my blood. I have no other way to describe it. I’m not a poet, I’m not good with pretty compliments, and God knows I have little to offer except a possible inheritance. But I promise that at least in the bedchamber, I can make you happy. Perhaps that doesn’t count for much, but people have married for less.”
“I prefer to marry for more.”
“So you have another, better prospect?” he asked, still fondling her, driving her to distraction.
He knew the answer to that.
“Give me a chance to show you how good we can be together,” he whispered. “Just . . . one . . . chance . . .”
He was kissing her again, so sweetly it made her throat ache with the beauty of it. What if he was right? What if this was enough? Lord knows he roused her blood, too. If not for his mad need to be in danger at every moment—and her feeling that she was somehow betraying Roger by being with him—she could almost envision a life with him.
For a moment, she gave herself up to the pleasure he wound about her. He smelled of horses and leather and tasted of wine, intoxicating her with his kisses. His hot mouth moved down her chin to her neck to suck at the pulse that beat there, then skimmed lower toward her breast, making her moan and arch into him to grab at his shoulders.
His thickly muscled, magnificent shoulders. No wonder women threw themselves at him. He was a Thoroughbred among the cart horses, sleek and imposing. His masterful caresses made her feel like a mare in heat who’d trample over anything to mate with the stallion in the next paddock.
No man had ever provoked such wild feelings in her. She was sinking into them, drowning in the sensations—
“Virginia!” came a sharp voice, reaching through the fog in her addled brain.
Panic seized her. “Stop,” she hissed. “You have to stop.”
Gabriel pushed open her gown. “Keep quiet and he’ll go away.”
“Virginia!” the voice repeated, closer now.
“It’s Pierce,” she said, shoving Gabriel back. As he stood there blinking, she rebuttoned her gown. Sweet Lord, it was hanging half open! “He won’t go away until he finds us.”
When a half-dazed Gabriel reached for her, she slapped his hand. “Are you trying to ruin me?”
He raked his fingers through his hair, then glanced to the entrance of the blind alley. “It’s not ruining you if I’m willing to marry you.”
She gaped at him. So that was his plan—to compromise her and ensure their marriage that way. And she’d nearly let him do it!
Turning on her heel, she marched toward the entrance. “You aren’t going to gain me like that, sir.”
He followed her. “There’s leaves and twigs on the back of your gown.” He started brushing them off.
“Don’t do that!” she growled, batting at his hands.
“Damn it, Sharpe, where have you and my cousin gone off to?” bellowed Pierce from very near. Then came an awful silence, followed by, “What the hell are you two doing?”
Gabriel took his sweet time about dropping his hands from her gown, the devil. “We’re trying to tour the maze, Devonmont.”
She glanced over to see Pierce standing at the head of the blind alley, regarding her and Gabriel with rank suspicion. As heat rose in her cheeks, it occurred to her that her hair was probably mussed from having Gabriel’s hands buried in it. Oh, dear. How could she have been so foolish?
“Pierce, isn’t this just the loveliest maze? I’ve been admiring the box hedges,” she lied gamely.
“With Sharpe’s hands on your behind?” Pierce said. Her cheeks grew hot. Fie on Gabriel for that. “Don’t be rude, Pierce. Lord Gabriel was merely helping me get leaves off my gown.”
“I’ll just bet he was,” Pierce said dryly, his gaze going to Gabriel.
Who met Pierce’s gaze with one that was far too smug. “You caught us, Devonmont—I admit it. I guess there’s no stopping the wedding now.”
Her cousin said, “No need for such dramatics. A man ought to be able to steal a kiss without finding himself leg-shackled, don’t you agree?”
“I quite agree. Not that we were doing anything so scandalous,” she said hastily, then scowled at Gabriel. “Because we weren’t.”
Gabriel glanced from Pierce to her. “It’s all right, sweetheart. I’m more than happy to make this right.”
“Of course you are,” Pierce drawled. “You’ve got that tidy little inheritance waiting for you.”
Fire blazed in Gabriel’s face. “Not that it’s any of your concern, but I was just explaining to your cousin why I’m not marrying her for my inheritance.”
“Of course it’s my concern,” Pierce said. “She’s family. And she deserves better than you—which is precisely why I intend to marry her.”
For a moment, she and Gabriel just gaped at him.
Then Virginia found her voice. “What on earth are you talking about?”
Pierce shrugged. “You can have more than one suitor. I’m throwing my hat in the ring.”
“The blazes you are,” Gabriel growled and lunged forward.
“Stop it!” She grabbed him by the arm. “Can’t you see he’s just trying to provoke you?”
“Not in the least,” Pierce said. “I’m perfectly serious. I’m a far more suitable husband for you than this scoundrel.” He flicked a dismissive glance at Gabriel. “Since I’m the one who’ll inherit your home, if you want to marry for an inheritance, you ought to marry for mine.”
“I’m not marrying for anyone’s inheritance,” she said irritably.
“Then marry for love.” Pierce’s cool tone belied his sentimental words. “I love you madly, cousin. So I should have as good a chance with you as he does. Or better, unless Sharpe is claiming to love you madly, too.”
She nearly burst into laughter. Pierce so clearly did not love her. If she had her head in the clouds, as Pierce claimed, then he had his firmly rooted on earth.
His declaration was having the oddest effect on Gabriel, who looked fit to be tied. How curious. Was he upset because he hated losing his future inheritance? Or because he hated losing her? She really needed to know.
Perhaps she should let Pierce continue this little farce. “Do you truly love me, cousin?”
When Pierce’s gaze shot to her with a silent warning in it, she was glad she’d gone with her instincts. “Of course. I appreciate your intelligence and spirit and good heart. Sharpe just wants to get into your bed.”
“And you don’t?” Gabriel shot back.
“So what if I do?” Pierce drawled. “Isn’t that normal for a man in love?”
He practically winced, and she had to stifle a snort. Surely even Gabriel could tell Pierce was lying; he practically choked on the word love.
But apparently Gabriel took her cousin’s claim at face value. “You don’t know the meaning of love, Devonmont. I’m well aware of your reputation, even if your cousin is not. You’ve left a string of mistresses behind you longer than my arm. If she marries you she’ll always play se
cond fiddle to your current mistress.”
“Yet you plan to be faithful to her?” Pierce cast Gabriel a withering glance. “Once you get your hands on your grandmother’s money, you’ll be spending every night in the stews.”
“You know nothing about what I mean to do with my grandmother’s money,” Gabriel bit out. “And you know nothing about me.”
Pierce stepped closer. “I know I’m the best man for her.”
“You’re her cousin, for God’s sake!”
“Second cousin. And there’s no legal impediment to cousins marrying, anyway.” He gave Gabriel a searching look. “I notice you haven’t made any claims to loving her yourself.”
A muscle worked in Gabriel’s jaw, which was all the answer either she or Pierce needed. Not that she’d expected Gabriel to say he loved her—he barely knew her. And she didn’t want him to claim a lie. That would prove him to be every bit as mercenary as Pierce seemed to think.
But some tiny part of her was disappointed. Which was utterly ridiculous. She didn’t love him. Why should she want him to love her?
Pierce held out his arm. “Come, my dear. Uncle Isaac sent me to fetch you in to dinner.”
As she walked forward, Gabriel growled, “Don’t you dare go off with him!”
She stopped to face him with a frown. “I beg your pardon?” she said in her frostiest voice. “I was unaware you had any right to command me.”
Pierce shook his head. “Not an ounce of gentlemanly civility in him.”
Gabriel glared at Pierce. “Stay out of this!” Then he leveled an angry glance on Virginia. “You and I had an agreement. I won our race, and with it, the right to court you.”
“Yes, but there was nothing in our wager to preclude anyone else courting me. Thank you very much for taking me around the maze, but now that my cousin has declared his intentions, I believe I shall let him take me in to dinner. It seems only fair that I give you both equal time.”
At his look of outrage, she bit back a smile and took Pierce’s arm.
Before they walked off, Pierce said, “You might want to take a few minutes, old boy, to . . . make yourself presentable.” Pierce’s gaze dipped down to Gabriel’s groin, eliciting a curse from Gabriel.
Virginia blushed violently as Pierce added, “If you go in to dinner looking like that, and the general notices, not only will there be no wedding, but it’ll be pistols at dawn. That won’t do you any good.”
They headed off together, leaving Gabriel to stew. “You are very wicked sometimes,” she said as soon as they were out of earshot.
Pierce’s voice was hard. “Did he do anything more than kiss you?”
She swallowed. There were some things a lady definitely kept to herself. “Nothing.” She slanted a glance at him. “You must tell me what you’re up to. Because we both know that you don’t want to marry me, and you certainly don’t ‘love me madly.’ ”
“Not madly perhaps, but I do love you.”
She arched an eyebrow at him.
“I love all my family,” he clarified, a devilish smile curving up his lips.
“So you love me as you do your mother, in other words.”
He shrugged. “It’s better than loving you as I do my dog.”
“Play with words if you must, but at least tell me what your game is.”
He lowered his voice. “Glance behind us.”
She did so, and saw Gabriel coming out of the maze, his hands clenched and his eyes sending daggers into the back of Pierce’s head.
“Is he watching us?” Pierce asked.
“Like a dog watches a bone being stolen from him.”
Pierce shot her a long look. “Or like a man who doesn’t want to lose a chance at a woman he desires?”
“It’s the same thing.”
“No, it’s not.” Pierce stared ahead at Halstead Hall. “Any woman will suffice to help Sharpe win his inheritance. He’s irritated right now to have what he sees as an easy conquest taken from him. And if all he cares about is the money, he’ll go on to another woman since there’s competition. He has no time to fight a courtship war.”
“And if he doesn’t go on to another woman?”
“Then he desires you.”
“How is that any better? In neither case does he love me.”
“Come now, cuz, love is a farce for a man like Sharpe. The best you’ll get from him is desire.”
I promise that at least in the bedchamber, I can make you happy . . . People have married for less.
“That’s not good enough for me.”
Pierce cast her a pitying look. “Then you’ll have to look elsewhere for a husband, dear girl. Or settle for the sort of love I offer and accept my suit.”
“Your pretend suit, you mean.”
He met her gaze solemnly. “It’s not pretend. If the only way to help you is to marry you, I’m willing to sacrifice myself on the altar of matrimony.”
“Thank you, but I believe I can do without a sacrificial lamb.”
They entered the house in silence, Gabriel stalking after them. As they turned a corner, Pierce glanced back at the still glowering Gabriel. “There’s a remote possibility that Sharpe might make you a good husband, my dear girl. But until I know his true intentions, we should give him some competition. Then, if he persists in his suit toward you, we can reexamine his sincerity.”
She cast him a bemused glance. “Why would you want to help him?”
“I don’t. I want to help you. Marriage is the only way to ensure your future.” He searched her face. “And you fancy him, admit it.”
Color rising in her cheeks, she stared down the hall. “I find him arrogant and too sure of himself.”
“Yet you fancy him.”
She gritted her teeth. Pierce might not always know her mind, but sometimes he was right on the mark.
“At the moment,” she muttered, “I fancy the idea of being a governess. If I must deal with possessiveness and obnoxious demands, I’d rather it be from creatures small enough for me to send to their rooms.”
Pierce chuckled. “I should like to see you try sending Sharpe to his room.”
I’d only do that if I were going there with him.
Good gracious, where had that thought come from? This was what came of letting a devil like Gabriel kiss her and put his hands on her. It fed the restlessness in her soul and provoked the most unwise thoughts and fantasies.
But perhaps Pierce was right. If she did want to consider Gabriel for a husband—which she wasn’t at all sure of—it wouldn’t hurt to give him some competition. And even if she didn’t want to marry him, giving him competition would be a delightful way to torment him. At the moment, she found that vastly appealing.
“What shall we tell Poppy?” she asked.
“The truth. That I’m courting you, too.”
“He won’t believe it.”
“I wouldn’t bet on that.” His expression turned solemn. “He’ll swallow anything rather than face the possibility of Sharpe taking you away from him after doing the same with Roger.”
He had a point. Poppy would never forgive Gabriel for getting Roger killed. She still wasn’t entirely certain that she could. “Pierce, do you know what really happened?”
“What do you mean?”
“Was Roger drunk the day of the race? And was he the one to make the challenge, or was Sharpe?”
A shuttered look crossed Pierce’s face. “You’ll have to ask Sharpe.”
“Do you think he’d tell me?”
“There’s only one way to find out.”
True. But part of her was afraid to learn the truth. Because if Poppy was right about Gabriel even as she’d been letting the scoundrel kiss and caress her . . .
Sweet Lord, she could never bear that.
Chapter Nine
They entered the dining room to find everyone else seated. Pierce led her to her chair, which was next to his.
“Where’s my brother?” Lord Jarret asked as they sat down.
>
“They got separated, and Virginia was wandering the maze alone,” Pierce lied. “So I used the opportunity to profess my desire to court her as well.”
Audible gasps filled the room.
Virginia darted a glance at her grandfather, who looked stunned. Then he broke into a broad smile. Oh dear. She didn’t want him getting his hopes up.
“This is rather sudden, isn’t it?” Gabriel’s sister Mrs. Masters asked.
“Very sudden,” Gabriel said from the doorway. He sauntered in, his gaze narrowing when he caught sight of her sitting next to Pierce. “Apparently Devonmont isn’t satisfied with gaining Waverly Farm. He wants the lady of Waverly Farm, as well.”
“At least he wants the lady,” Virginia shot back. “You just want to gain your inheritance.”
As he scowled, his siblings let out a collective groan.
“You know about that?” Mrs. Plumtree asked.
“Yes, no thanks to any of you.” She placed her hand on Pierce’s, enjoying how it made Gabriel tense. “Fortunately, my cousin had heard the gossip and was kind enough to inform me on the way here.”
“Kind enough?” Gabriel took his seat across from her, eyes ablaze. “Seems to me that he seized his chance to snatch you away from me.”
Lady Stoneville motioned to the footman to serve the soup, and he began moving about the table.
“We’re so sorry about the misunderstanding concerning Gran’s ultimatum,” Mrs. Masters said, with a hard glance at her brother. “We wanted to tell you, but Gabriel was against it. I think he’s embarrassed. He’s very enamored of you, and he knew you would misunderstand the situation if you heard of it.”
Enamored of her, hah! Gabriel just wanted her in his bed. “So you lied for him.”
“Not quite,” Lord Jarret said. “More like . . . left out some of the truth.”
“Important parts of the truth, wouldn’t you say?” Virginia cast them a withering glance as she picked up her spoon. When they had the good grace to look sheepish, she added, “I find truthfulness in a husband essential.”
“Gabe is generally quite truthful,” Mrs. Masters insisted. “Almost to a fault.”
To Wed a Wild Lord Page 12