Dare to Risk it All (Daring Daughters Book 7)

by Emma V. Leech

  “Yes,” she agreed simply. “I could never have married a man who didn’t know how to be bad. He’d not know what to do with me.”

  “Whereas I know exactly what to do with you.” He leaned down, brushing his lips over her neck and pressing a kiss to the curve where it met her shoulder. Her breath caught, her hands moving over him, setting fires wherever she touched him.

  “I have something for you,” he whispered.

  “I know,” she replied, stroking his hard length through his trousers.

  Raphe snorted, helpless with laughter. “Not that!” he replied, charmed beyond reason by her boldness.

  “Oh, but, Raphe,” she said, sounding like she might stamp her foot.

  He pulled her hands away from his body, pinning her to the door.

  “No,” he said, trying and failing to keep a straight face. “I meant, I have a present for you.”

  “Oh,” she perked up a little at that, but then frowned, worry in her eyes. “But, darling. I told you I didn’t need gifts. You’ve bought everyone presents, and that’s very generous, but—”

  He silenced her with a kiss, parting her lips and plundering without mercy, intent on scattering her wits and making her forget her objections.

  “What were you saying?” he asked as he released her, pleased to see she was glassy-eyed and breathless.

  “W-What? What was I saying?” she repeated and then gave up, shaking her head. “I forget.”

  Feeling smug, Raphe thought perhaps his misspent life had not been a complete waste of time. He released her and hurried to the bed, retrieving the jewellery box that had been waiting for her all evening.

  “This is for you, love, and I want no arguments, because for me, it’s an investment. I’m giving you everything I have. All of it. Because I have nothing worth a damn without you.”

  “Oh, Raphe,” she said, the adoration in her eyes making him feel like the king of the world.

  She took the box from him and went to sit on the edge of the bed, carefully undoing the pale green ribbon he’d bought because it matched her eyes. Raphe moved about the room, lighting the lamps so he could see as Greer tugged the paper aside to reveal the elegant blue leather box and flicked the little clasp holding it shut. Her breath caught as she revealed a double strand of large pearls laying upon a bed on blue silk. It was an exquisite set and had been extraordinarily expensive, costing him every penny he’d gained from the sale of the painting. The double row of sixty-eight pearls glowed with an inner light that seemed almost unearthly. They shone a creamy pink and seemed to illuminate her face as she held them up, staring at Raphe with shining eyes.

  “I’ve seen nothing so beautiful in my life,” she said, her voice quavering. “I love them, and I love you. Oh, but, Raphe,” she hesitated, but Raphe understood her concern.

  “I sold a painting,” he said, replying in a daze as her words flooded his heart. She loved him. Happiness was a fierce burn in his chest, and he moved to sit beside her. “Don’t worry. I’m bringing little enough to this marriage. At least let me give you something that will give us both pleasure.”

  She smiled, handing him the necklace. “Put it on me, please,” she said, turning around.

  Raphe draped the pearls in front of her, his hands not entirely steady as he fastened the diamond and gold clasp at the back of her neck. He smoothed the fine skin of her shoulders, exposed by the cut of her gown, and bent his head, pressing his mouth to her neck.

  Greer’s breathing quickened, and he slid his arms about her, pulling her back against his chest.

  “The day after tomorrow, you’ll be mine,” he said, a thrill of satisfaction lancing through him with the words.

  She let out a soft breath of laughter, turning to look at him. “Silly man, I’m already yours. You don’t need a wedding ceremony to prove that.”

  “I want one, though. People will think you’ve made a bad bargain as it is.”

  Greer laughed again, louder now, the merry sound that always made him want to smile with her. She laughed with such ease, always ready to enjoy life, finding happiness in the smallest of pleasures. It was a rare gift, and one he would always cherish.

  “I can assure you, the ladies will not think you a bad bargain. My word, they’ll be green with envy when they see I’ve caught such a handsome man.”

  Raphe quirked an eyebrow at her. “Will you lord it over them for having tamed such a notorious libertine?” he asked, cupping her breasts with both hands and squeezing gently.

  “Tamed?” she asked, her breath hitching as he caressed the taut peaks of her nipples through the gown. “Is that what I’ve done? I see no evidence of it. You’re as wicked as you’ve ever been.”

  “True,” he murmured, moving to kneel on the floor in front of her. “Only now all my bad behaviour is reserved for you.”

  Greer stared down at the big, handsome man at her feet. He looked like a dark angel, devastatingly beautiful, his eyes promising pleasure and sin in equal measure. It was becoming harder to breathe, her heart performing an erratic dance behind her ribs as his large, warm hands slid about her ankles and moved higher.

  Though she knew she was shameless, she widened her thighs for him as he raised her skirts. His satisfied smile made her shiver with anticipation.

  “I suppose there are some compensations for accepting such an ill-advised husband. You know, many men won’t do such things for their wives, my sweet devil. How lucky you are to have a depraved man to call your own.”

  “I never doubted it,” she managed, gasping as she felt his lips press against her inner thigh, touching the sensitive skin with butterfly kisses as his warm breath fluttered over her.

  “I can’t keep you away for too long, so this will be short and very, very sweet,” he said, his voice raising the fine hairs on the back of her neck.

  “Oh, my,” was all Greer could say, flopping back onto the bed with a sigh.

  She did not doubt his words for a moment. She was already aching with need, her skin alive and oversensitive. A hoarse cry tore from her at the first touch of his hot, silky tongue and she was lost to sensation. He alternated with hands and mouth, shattering her composure and the pleasure built so fast she had no means of moderating her response, not that she wanted to. She knew he loved the wanton sounds she made. That much was clear as he told her how she pleased him, how beautiful she was, how much he wanted her.

  He slid his hands beneath her hips, raising her up to feast upon her like a starving man, and the blatant enjoyment he took in the act tore away any remaining shred of calm. Greer cried out with no thought for anything or anyone, grasping at the bedclothes as the climax ripped through her, so hard that stars exploded behind her eyes, giving her the sensation of being flung into the night sky, the infinite pieces of her soul scattering over the heavens. For a long, delicious moment she hung suspended, and then drifted slowly back to earth, dazed and sated, utterly boneless in the afterglow.

  A low, masculine chuckle brought her back to the here and now. Raising her heavy eyelids with difficulty, she blinked, discovering Raphe sitting on the bed beside her. He looked inordinately pleased with himself.

  “One day, I shall learn to do that to you,” she said, her voice sluggish, like she’d been dosed with opium.

  “God help me,” he whispered, nuzzling at her neck. “I don’t doubt your ability to drive me out of my wits. I only hope I have the stamina to survive your attentions, my darling hellcat.”

  Greer smiled and stretched luxuriously. “If I were a cat, I would purr,” she said.

  “Well, naughty puss, there’s no time for that. Come along.”

  Greer grumbled and protested as he took her hands and pulled her to her feet. “I don’t want to go back.”

  She collapsed against his chest, intensely aware of his powerful masculine body, thrumming with tension. He was hard, his arousal pressing into her insistently. Greer looked down his torso and then back up at his face, quirking one eyebrow.

  “Are
you certain you wish to go back?” she asked.

  Raphe made a pained sound and drew away from her. “I am certain I want to remain here and do bad things with you, but we are going back. Just… give me a minute.”

  He walked away from her and tugged back the bedroom curtain, staring out into the darkness.

  “How do you—er, improve the situation?” she asked him.

  Raphe glanced back at her, his lips quirking. “I usually try to think of something unpleasant. My stepmother works a treat.”

  Greer made a smothered sound of amusement, and he laughed.

  “I wouldn’t find it that funny if I were you. She’ll be your mother-in-law.”

  She frowned. “Will we have to see much of her?”

  “Lord, no! She’s no blood relation of mine and she’s never liked me. Poor Sylvester and Ollie have no choice, but I do. I’ve given up trying to please her, for it’s a thankless task. Mind, she’ll be after me for money once she realises I’ve married well.”

  “Then grant her a generous annual income and be done with it. Then we need not be troubled by her again. It sounds as if it will be worth every penny.”

  He stared down at her. “You wouldn’t mind?”

  “Raphe, the law says it’s your money once we marry, and I’ve told you before, we none of us care about such things. Mama and Papa were never vastly wealthy, so we know the value of money. The idea of the bequest Grandmama gave us has always been a notional thing. It never seemed real to me. I admit I like to dress well for a party but other than that, I’m not wildly extravagant.”

  “I would prefer if we made such decisions together, love,” he said, looking a little awkward. “My family’s track record with money is not an encouraging one.”

  Greer wrapped her arms about him, hugging him. He was such an odd mix of fierce self-confidence and vulnerability, and that he allowed her to see the whole of him with nothing hidden was a privilege she did not take lightly. “I trust you, Raphe, and I know you’ll manage everything wonderfully well, but I should be pleased to be your partner in all things, if you will let me.”

  “Let you?” He snorted and kissed the top of her head. “I insist upon it, but now you must let go of me, sweetheart, because I really need to think about my stepmother again.”

  Chapter 16

  Dear Vivien,

  I am not exaggerating. He really is the most obnoxious, conceited, infuriating man I have ever met in my life. I shall be sorry to leave the Hall, for I have loved being with Greer and Elspeth, and Alana too, and have enjoyed my time here very much. However, I will not be sorry to part company with Mr Sylvester Cootes. His older brother, Lord de Ligne, is a charming rogue and adores Greer, and the younger is a dear creature, but Mr Cootes is like a stone in my shoe, and I can never be comfortable when he is at hand.

  ―Excerpt of a letter from Lady Aisling Baxter (Daughter of the Right Hon’ble Luke and Kitty Baxter, the Earl and Countess of Trevick) to Miss Vivien Anson (Daughter of the Right Hon’ble Silas and Aashini Anson, The Viscount and Viscountess Cavendish.)

  27th December 1840, Rowsley Hall, Derbyshire.

  On the 27th of December, in the elegant drawing room of Rowsley Hall and with her family, and the Marquess and Marchioness of Bainbridge, in attendance, Miss Greer Cadogan became Lady de Ligne, a fact that made her grin like a lunatic and break into giggles for little or no reason. She could not help smiling, and talking too much and too fast, and staring like a besotted fool at her handsome husband.

  Lord above, but he was a fine sight. Every time she stole a glance at him, her stomach quivered with anticipation. Tonight, they would finally be alone together. No stealing away in secret to grab a few moments together. No fear of discovery. He was all hers. She looked up, watching him as he laughed with her mother, and a blush burned her cheeks as lust simmered through her. He was deliciously big and broad. His elegant attire highlighted a powerful frame but, despite his easy manner and charm, there was the unmistakable air of danger about him. He looked what he was, a man who had lived life to the full and knew every one of its wicked pleasures.

  Raphe glanced around, catching her watching him and from the devilish smile he returned, he was well aware of the turn her thoughts had taken.

  “Oh, run along, do,” her mother said, laughing. “Poor Gee. She looks like she’s about to burst into flame.”

  “Mama!” Greer exclaimed, blushing harder than ever.

  Her mother only laughed harder, perfectly unrepentant.

  “Bonnie, you wretch,” her father said, rolling his eyes.

  To Greer’s mingled relief and chagrin, Raphe took her mother at her word and lost no time in ordering their carriage.

  The assembled company came outside to see them off. A merry party, full of laughter and inappropriate comments, they threw rice in abundance and did their best to make the bride and groom blush.

  “We’ll be along in a bit, Raphe,” Bainbridge called out as Raphe handed Greer up into the carriage. “I’ll be in the library if you want any advice about how to go about things. You won’t weep, will you? Or swoon? Shall I send smelling salts up to your room, just in case?”

  “I think I’ll manage,” Raphe replied, giving Bainbridge a warning look.

  “Are you sure?” Bainbridge persisted. “Better safe than sorry. It’s no trouble.”

  Greer smothered a giggle as Raphe shook his head, laughing despite himself. “Sod off, you silly devil.”

  “Well, I like that. I was only trying to help,” Bainbridge retorted, adopting a wounded expression.

  Ignoring him, Raphe climbed up into the carriage. Greer looked out of the window to see Bainbridge withdraw a large handkerchief and dab at his eyes.

  “They grow up so fast,” he said mournfully as Dare snorted with mirth.

  At last, the carriage lurched forward, and they were off.

  “Thank God for that,” Raphe said with a heartfelt sigh, before turning to Greer. There was a bemused, slightly anxious glint in his eyes as he looked down at her. “Happy?” he asked, as though he really wondered about the answer.

  Instead of answering, Greer threw her arms about his neck and kissed him. His arms closed about her at once, pulling her against him. He buried his face against her neck.

  “No going back now.”

  “I should think not,” she said, indignant at the idea.

  He raised his head, staring at her. “You are the loveliest creature that ever lived, Lady de Ligne.”

  Despite the sincerity of the comment, Greer had to muffle a snort of amusement. “Me—Lady de Ligne.”

  “Indeed you are, and the title is ancient. I insist you carry it with all the gravity and pride that generations before you have done.”

  He sounded so intense that Greer started in shock, wondering how on earth she’d manage it. And then he burst out laughing.

  “Oh, love. The look on your face.” He doubled over, dissolving with glee.

  “You rat!” she exclaimed, hitting his shoulder. “You frightened the life out of me.”

  “Mercy!” he said, holding up his hands in a show of surrender.

  “Hmph.” She pretended to sulk, turning her back on him.

  “Don’t pout, darling, or I will be forced to kiss you.”

  “I’m not at all sure I feel like kissing you now,” she retorted, though heat was already simmering beneath her skin, and he must know it was a damned lie.

  “Ah, well. It is a just revenge. I shall just have to endure the journey in a ferment of misery,” he said sadly, settling back against the squabs.

  Greer waited a moment and then flounced back to face him. “That’s it?” she demanded crossly. “You didn’t make much of an effort.”

  He raised his eyebrows, his expression far too innocent. “But you do not wish for me to kiss you. You said so, and I would never force my attentions upon you if you did not welcome them.”

  “They’re not that unwelcome,” she said with obvious frustration.

 
; “Oh?” He seemed to consider that, a frown drawing his dark brows together. “No. No, I cannot take the chance of offending my new bride.”

  Greer narrowed her eyes at him. “My Lord de Ligne, if you don’t kiss me I shan’t be responsible for the consequences.”

  “Are you quite certain?” he asked, looking doubtful. “You’re not just trying to soothe my injured—”

  “Oh!” With a huff, she grabbed hold of his neck and pulled him close, kissing him hungrily.

  Raphe laughed against her mouth but complied, doing as she’d asked and kissing her deeply, thoroughly, until she was hot and flustered.

  “So demanding,” he chided, shaking his head. “I see I shall have my work cut out for me keeping you satisfied.”

  “Yes,” she agreed breathlessly. “So you can stop teasing me and get on with it.”

  Snorting helplessly, Raphe did as she asked.

  Their welcome at Royle House was warm and mercifully brief. Whether Arabella or Bainbridge were to thank for the brevity of their hearty greeting, Greer was uncertain, but they were shown to their room without delay and left alone.

  It was a lavish suite, all heavy curtains, thick carpets and opulent furnishings. The staff had arranged a cold repast of light dishes covered with silver domes upon a side table, and an ice bucket contained a bottle of Champagne. The fires blazed, and the lamps were lit against the waning winter day, making the large room feel somehow intimate and cosy.

  “How grand it is,” Greer said with wonder.

  “Don’t get too used to it, love,” Raphe replied with a crooked grin. “It’s the last luxury you might see for a bit.”

  “Will we stay at your estate, then?”

  “God, no!” he exclaimed, shaking his head. “Not unless you’ve a taste for sleeping with rats and mice, who are likely the present occupants. There’s a decent inn close by, though. We’ll stay there while we gauge how bad the condition is and if we’d best just set fire to the damn place.”

  “Oh, I cannot believe it will come to that,” Greer said. “Do you not have any tenants left?”