A Touch of Passion_A Rouge Regency Romance

by Bronwen Evans

  “True. Do you have dreams of your own?” she asked the young girl.

  “Yes, I want to breed racehorses. Christian has let me buy a colt and two mares. He said that I might breed a Derby winner and that he’d wager on my horse.” She sighed. “I wish women could ride in the Derby.”

  “That’s your goal. To be the first female Derby rider.”

  Lily pulled on her arm and giggled. Even little Robert made a gurgle sound.

  “I’d love that. Thank you, Portia.” With that Lily jumped to her feet and rushed to meet Serena, hugging her around her waist. Portia’s eyes welled as Serena hugged her back, and they came toward her, their hands joined and swinging between them. Hopefully times will change and one day a woman could win the Derby.

  Portia left Serena and Lily to chat and moved back toward the men who were still playing. As she approached she heard them talking about what might be happening in London.

  Later that afternoon Portia was in the drawing room minding Robert. The men remained outside talking. There was still no news from Hadley or Arend, and the tension at Henslowe Court was high. Not good for a breast-feeding mother.

  Christian was trying whatever he could think of to keep everyone’s spirits up but the game of pall-mall had not ended well.

  “That man is going to see me do him an injury if he doesn’t unbend. He’s stiffer than a fireplace poker.”

  Portia smiled and kept rocking little Robert in her arms as Beatrice led Sebastian’s two sisters into the drawing room. The girls, Marisa and Helen, and their aunt had arrived at Henslowe Court three days ago from Lord Rutherford’s estate, where they had been for the past fortnight. There was likely to be an announcement soon, as Marisa was contemplating marriage to the handsome young earl.

  “I’m assuming you’re referring to His Grace?” Portia couldn’t keep the smile off her face.

  Marisa couldn’t hide her feelings if she tried. Everyone knew if she was sad, happy, angry, or hurt. Maitland, on the other hand, was all about hiding his emotions. He thought emotions pointless. Logic and reason governed his decisions. That was infuriating to a young girl who threw herself headlong into everything. Portia inwardly laughed. Marisa reminded her of herself when she was younger, and she could quite see why Maitland would grate on her.

  Marisa was still very angry. “We should have won. His Grace took all the fun out of our game of pall-mall. Before every shot we had to discuss our strategy. Every shot! Why couldn’t he just hit the ball? It ruined the game.”

  “You’re just peeved because the two of you lost,” her sister said quietly.

  “Well, you can play with him next time.”

  “I’ll probably have to, since you sent his ball into the lake.” Helen shook her head. “Your partner’s ball! That’s why you lost. Plus you left him to fish it out.”

  “He deserved it, the pompous arse,” Marisa muttered under her breath, taking a seat in front of the refreshments tray.

  Aunt Alison cried, “Young lady! Language, please!”

  “Sorry, Auntie. I don’t know what it is about His Grace, but he rubs me wrong.” She poured her aunt and the other ladies their tea.

  “He’s a very loyal and nice man,” Portia said as she passed Robert to his mother, who’d just entered. Serena’s face was flushed, and Portia spied Christian just outside the door. No doubt his proximity was the cause of Serena’s heated expression. Since she’d risen from her bed after the birth, the pair used any moment to kiss and cuddle, wrapped up in happiness and ecstatic with the safe delivery of their son.

  Portia was ecstatic too. She was marrying Grayson in one week. Given the situation they found themselves, with the villainess still at large, the wedding would be a quiet family affair at Henslowe Court’s chapel. They were waiting for her family to arrive. She was the family’s only daughter, and she wanted her mother to share in her joy.

  It was killing her, though, as Grayson insisted they would not be intimate again until husband and wife, to make the wedding night special. As if it would not be special enough!

  She knew the men had a wager going as to whether Grayson would make it to the wedding night without succumbing to his lust. He’d be shocked to learn she’d placed her own bet with Sebastian on the outcome too. There was no way she would be alone in her bed until her wedding day. She smiled inwardly. She intended to win the bet by seducing Grayson. She was looking forward to tonight.

  The men decided to stay outside after the game. They sat on the small jetty, watching and chuckling as Maitland floundered around in the lake looking for his ball.

  Maitland lost his temper for once. “If she were not your sister, I’d strangle her. No, better yet, shove this wet ball down her—”

  Sebastian laughed. “If I recall, only a month ago you were suggesting a match.”

  Maitland shivered and not because he was soaking wet. “Good God, that was a mistake. She’s a little hellion.”

  Grayson looked puzzled. “Why suggest marriage, then?”

  Maitland shook off his drenched jacket and grabbed a whiskey from the tray a servant had brought down to the jetty for the men. “I’m the last of my line, a madwoman is out to kill me, I need a son, despite her atrocious attitude Marisa is beautiful, it would align our two families, Sebastian knows I’d be good to her, she’d be marrying a duke, and a marriage could have been organized quickly without any fuss.” He ticked off the points on his fingers as he spoke.

  “Just what Marisa wished for her wedding—no fuss,” Sebastian added sarcastically. “I suspect when the announcement comes that she’s to wed Lord Rutherford, she’ll be expecting a huge wedding. Therefore, we need to catch our villainess quickly. I won’t be able to ensure her safety once she weds.”

  Christian strolled back to the jetty from the house, a jauntiness in his stride. He was still over the moon about the safe birth of his son. “Marisa is pouring tea, but she’s still angry at you. What are you all laughing at?”

  Grayson replied, “Maitland. Did you know he’d suggested a match with Marisa?”

  “Why?” Christian asked as he accepted a drink and sat down next to Grayson.

  “Why do you think? He thought it prudent given he has no son and is an only child.”

  “I merely selected the wrong woman,” Maitland opined. “Marisa’s much too spirited. Perhaps her sister, Helen, would suit.”

  Sebastian parried, “I wouldn’t let any sister of mine marry you. I want them to be happy, to find love.”

  Maitland shook his head slowly. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Love. It’s simply an imbalance of the brain and soon wears off. A quiet, demure woman is what I need. I shall live quite happily without ongoing hysterics.”

  Grayson shook his head. “No, Maitland, you’re wrong. Portia’s love has taught me that you don’t marry the woman you can live with. You marry the woman you cannot live without.”

  “Never a truer word have you spoken, Grayson.” Christian raised his glass. “To love—it makes us better men.”

  They sat in companionable silence, except for Maitland’s mutterings about “the world gone mad” and “Libertine Scholars succumbing to love … ridiculous.”

  It was Sebastian who broke the serenity of the moment by standing and shielding his eyes from the late-afternoon sun.

  “A rider’s coming, and at quite a pace.”

  Grayson bolted to his feet along with the other men, and they all took off at a run toward the house.

  The rider carried a missive from Arend that suggested all the Libertine Scholars and their families head back to London.

  After dinner the men were in Christian’s study discussing the note.

  “It’s definitely Arend’s handwriting. I’d recognize his terrible script anywhere.”

  Grayson took Maitland’s word for it, as his attention to detail was well known. “Do we go?”

  Christian cursed out loud. “I don’t like it. The women are safer here, where we can patrol the grounds. London is too cro
wded. It’d be easy for killers to hide and blend in.”

  Sebastian put in, “I agree. You know we will never be able to keep the women indoors. They will want to go visiting or shopping.”

  “I can’t go. Portia’s family is arriving in a day or two for the wedding. I’m not changing the arrangements. I’m not waiting a moment longer to wed her.”

  “That couldn’t be because of a vow of abstinence you’ve taken?” Maitland joked, trying to lighten the mood.

  “I can’t go either. Robert’s too little to travel, and I’m not leaving him and Serena behind.” Christian’s tone and face showed there would be no changing his mind.

  Maitland looked across at Sebastian. “That leaves you and me. Arend wouldn’t ask us to come unless it was important.”

  Sebastian shifted uneasily in his chair. He thought for a few moments before saying, “I’ll go up to town with Maitland. I’ll take Beatrice and the girls with me. If Marisa gets her proposal, it should be announced properly, or the ton may think there is something scandalous about the union. I don’t want that for her.”

  “Thank you, Sebastian. If when you two reach London you need our help, then we will consider coming.” That settled, Christian changed the subject. “Before you leave, let’s see if any of you can beat me at billiards.”

  Almost three hours later, Grayson climbed the stairs to his room. He would have stayed up all night, but the men’s ribbing compelled him to leave the billiard room. They knew as well as he did that he was staying downstairs to avoid temptation, as he’d have to walk past Portia’s door to get to his bedchamber.

  He wished he’d never tried to be honorable and stay out of her bed until their wedding night. It was absolute torment because he got to see her every day. Her smile sent his blood pumping. Her voice sent heat flaming over his skin. Her casual touch made him as hard as rock, and he kept having to hide behind high-backed chairs.

  His feet slowed as they reached her door. He stood for one moment, undecided. Then he straightened his back and strode determinedly past. What would she think if he went back on his word?

  He opened his bedroom door, not looking forward to another night of tossing and turning. Although erotic dreams of Portia were quite pleasurable, he much preferred and in fact craved the real thing.

  There was a low fire in the grate, but he couldn’t see Timmins, his valet, anywhere. He stomped to his dresser and discarded his cravat. Only then did a soft sigh reach his ears, and he turned to look toward the bed. Portia lay naked across his sheets, her fiery hair falling around her milky shoulders and across his pillows.

  All the blood in his body fled south as his mouth dried.

  She pushed herself up onto her knees and crooked her finger at him. She looked like a seductive goddess, and he didn’t need any further encouragement. He started discarding his jacket as he moved toward the large four-poster.

  She crawled to the edge of the bed and began helping him out of his clothes.

  “I doubt I’ll ever enjoy losing a wager so much,” he managed to get out.

  She pressed her lips to his bare chest, just above his heart. “That’s all right, my darling. You may have lost, but I will have won my wager.”

  Grayson picked her up and threw her on the bed, his body following her down to press her deep into the mattress as she squealed in delight. He kissed her soundly before whispering in her ear, “I’m thankful you’re such a clever woman.”

  As he moved down her body, his lips leaving a trail of heat that only having Grayson buried deep within her would extinguish, he added, “Let me show you just how thankful I am.”

  Acknowledgments

  I’d like to acknowledge the patience of the Loveswept team, in particular, Sue Grimshaw, while writing this book. Without their silent support during a very difficult period I’m not sure this book would ever have been finished. I love writing for Loveswept, and I’m so appreciative of Sue and her team. Thank you.

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

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  Epub ISBN 9781473503960

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  Copyright © Bronwen Evans, 2015

  Bronwen Evans has asserted her right to be identified as the author of this work under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental

  First published in the United States by Loveswept, an imprint of The Random House

  Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

  First published in the UK in 2015 by Rouge, an imprint of Ebury Publishing

  A Penguin Random House Group Company

  ISBN 9781473503960

  www.eburypublishing.co.uk

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library