Wedded to the Wicked Lord: Historical Regency Romance (Wicked Warwick Wives Book 2)

by Ella Edon

  “Why?” she blurted out.

  “Because you are my wife.” He stated. Louisa felt something odd take hold of her at those words.

  “I can respect your wishes to remain apart from me at nights, but your wellbeing is now also my concern. And after seeing how terrified you were last night, I cannot simply sit back and let it continue.”

  “Then what will you do? Sit vigilantly by my bedside and wake me at the first signs of distress?”

  “Do you think that will work?” he asked.

  Louisa blinked at him.

  “Perhaps.” But she sobered up a second later. “You need not worry about me. I have dealt well on my own before.”

  “I have no doubt. But there is no shame in asking for help when you need it.”

  “And I do not need it.”

  Jerome sighed. “Very well, then.” After a pause, he said, “There is one thing I would like to ask of you.”

  “Making demands already?” She teased. The words rolled off her tongue so naturally that Louisa couldn’t even question how she could jest with him like that. Jerome’s grin was enough to cast the thought aside.

  “It is not a demand, I assure you,” he told her. “Merely a request. You are free to deny it if you do not feel comfortable.”

  He is always thinking about my comfort. “What is it?”

  She watched him transform once again, becoming the awkward man who found issue sometimes finding the right words to say. It was quite refreshing to see, considering she’d known him for so long as a ruthless and opportunistic businessman. Now she knew he was so much more than that.

  “My father wishes to meet with you,” Jerome explained. “As you know, he has been ill for some time, but I received word this morning that he is in much better spirits. I think it would be best for you two to meet quickly before he becomes too ill to speak again.”

  Louisa responded without hesitation. “I would love to meet him. I have been eager to for a while, in fact.”

  Relief flooded his eyes even as a grin stretched across his lips. “For good reason, I hope?”

  Louisa hummed under her breath, lifting her teacup to her lip with a smile. “We’ll see.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jerome felt like he was in a dream. Not the same dream he’d had last night, where Louisa had tangled in his arms instead of her sheets, panting in his ear instead of screaming. But just like last night’s dream, Jerome felt his body react to the sight of her, his brain going blank as his trousers grew tighter. He shifted slightly into the shadows cast by the candlelight, hoping she would not see. It would surely have her running away from him.

  Watching her descend the staircase into the foyer was a sight to behold. The sight of her cerulean dress clinging to her gentle curves, her blond curls drifting around her face. The ivory hand that glided along the banister as she took each slow step forward, her eyes on him. If he didn’t know better, he would think she was trying to seduce him. But Louisa was a temptress without having to try. Without one look, one word, she had him in the palm of her hands and she didn’t even know it.

  He tried his best not to show how aroused he was by her. She’d been on his mind all day, ever since she’d invited him to have breakfast with her. Jerome had seen a side of Louisa he’d always wanted to see, the side that would laugh and tease as easily as she could cut into him with her words. He hadn’t expected her to be in such a mood this morning, but had welcomed it nonetheless, hoping that they had bridged a gap in their relationship and had only become closer.

  “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost,” Louisa stated upon her approach. It snapped Jerome out of his daze and he quickly tried to regain his composure.

  “Don’t mind me,” he waved off, watching as she lifted a brow. “I was merely thinking about something.”

  “Your business, I presume?” she asked, clasping her hands before her. Jerome blinked in surprise and she went on. “It seems you are quite dedicated to your work, Jerome. Here you are, preparing to leave the manor for recreation and you are still thinking about such things.”

  Jerome shook his head. Boldly, he said, “On the contrary, my mind was on you, Louisa. I could not help but think how beautiful you look tonight.”

  He’d expected her to scoff or to shrug, or perhaps to scowl at him. But her lips parted in surprise and her cheeks looked pinker than usual, though that was likely to be only a trick of the light.

  “Thank you,” she murmured. She sounded breathless for some reason. Louisa ran her gaze down the length of him, making him shift uncomfortably. “You look quite handsome yourself.”

  “Is that a compliment I hear?”

  Her lip twitched. “Savor it. I do not give those out very often.”

  Jerome laughed. He could hardly believe that he was truly here, joking with her, when only a day prior the rift between them had seemed as large as ever. Louisa had a sparkle in her eye that hadn’t been there before, and Jerome didn’t know whether to assume it was because of him or not. He hoped so.

  “Well, then,” he said. “Shall we?”

  Louisa nodded. He nearly offered her his arm but then he thought against it. Instead, he turned and made his way to the door, aware that she was right by his side. A carriage stood in the driveway waiting, the coachman lounging idly. He sat up straighter upon their approach. Jerome opened the door for Louisa, and she mumbled a word of gratitude before she climbed in. He walked quickly around the side, eager to join her.

  “So,” Louisa said the moment the carriage jerked into motion. “Tell me all that you can about the Duke of Leinster.”

  That took Jerome by surprise. “What would you like to know?”

  “Anything that you can tell me,” she clarified with a shrug. She was having a difficult time meeting his eyes even as he spoke, and she fidgeted with her fingers. Even though her tone was quite nonchalant, she seemed…nervous.

  Jerome leaned back in his seat. He’d taken a spot as far away from Louisa as he could, but he was already regretting it. Then again, he was grateful she hadn’t suggested they take separate carriages. “There is no need to worry, Louisa,” he told her. “My father will like you just fine.”

  “I didn’t say I was worried,” she snapped, her eyes trained out the window. Jerome smiled. She was nervous. “Can I not be curious about this man I’ve heard mentioned so many times and yet have never met? I thought it quite odd that he did not attend the wedding, but when I learned of his illness, I grew worried. I do not wish to upset his health further.”

  “What could you possibly say to do that?” he inquired. Jerome couldn’t deny that he was enjoying this unusual side of her. He was right in thinking she was warming up to him, but for some reason, he seemed to make her flustered as well.

  “I do not know,” she sighed. “I tend to say things that I shouldn’t. It is a bad habit I picked up trying to push suitors away from me.”

  “And now that you are married, I reckon that habit will not sit well with the man you now call your father-in-law.”

  Louisa slid her eyes over to him, narrowing them to slits. “You seem to be enjoying this,” she pointed out.

  “How can I not?” he asked honestly, grinning at her. “I have never seen you worry about such things before.”

  “There are many things you have not seen me do, Jerome,” she grumbled. “We do not know each other that well, as you recall.”

  “I nearly forgot for a moment,” Jerome said. “We seemed so friendly with each other that it feels as if I have known you for all my life.”

  Jerome had quite the penchant for telling her the truth, even when it wasn’t needed. She frowned at that and he quickly wished he could take it back. Perhaps he had grown a little too comfortable. But then Louisa’s lips twitched into a slight smile and she said, “Enough of that. You have yet to tell me about His Grace.”

  Jerome didn’t want to talk about his father. He wanted to sit by her side and hold her hand. He wanted to breathe her in and tell her
that she was the most beautiful lady he knew. The urge was as overwhelming as it was odd, but Jerome couldn’t push it aside. His body trembled with the force of it and right now, there was only one thing stopping him from taking the chance.

  The lie he’d told her that he had yet to reveal. He prayed tonight wouldn’t be the night. He was enjoying his time with her, loving the way she would smile and laugh and blush around him now. Even though it had only been a day, Jerome was growing obsessed with her teasing smile. He didn’t want to let go of that yet.

  “My father,” Jerome began, “is a hard man. He does not bend easily. He does not tolerate disrespect. He is quite dominant in everything he says and does.”

  “He sounds like quite the man.”

  That made him smile. “Somehow, I am certain you two will warm to each other well. I see much of him in you.”

  “Oh? How so?”

  “It lies mostly in the simple fact that you two are some of the strongest people I know.”

  It was too dark to see, but Jerome hoped that Louisa was pleased by his words. He hoped that there was truly a blush on her cheeks, like he expected.

  “You do not think that two assertive people will butt heads instead of getting along?” she asked.

  Jerome tilted his head back and barked a laugh. He was still chuckling when he spotted the confusion in her eyes. “Somehow, I am not surprised that you are not willing to dim your boldness in order to be liked by my father.”

  “I do not see why I should be expected to,” she said primly. Though she folded her arms, he saw the hint of a smile on her lips. “You said it yourself. I am strong woman. Strong women do not bend to the will of others.”

  “A controversial statement, you are well aware?”

  “As long as you do not tell my mother, I do not care what it is.”

  They both laughed at that, but it was cut short at the sudden turn of the carriage. Jerome recognized it instantly and said, “We are arriving.”

  Louisa sat up a bit straighter at that. She was quite composed, but Jerome was beginning to learn that she was also very good at hiding her thoughts when she wanted to. He didn’t take his eyes off her once, admiring the slope of her jaw and the curve of her eyelashes as she looked out window. The carriage came to a jarring halt the moment they were in the center of the driveway.

  Footmen were already standing on either side of the door. Jerome wrenched his gaze away from Louisa when her door was opened, and she was helped from the carriage by one of the footmen. He exited himself, coming around to her side as quickly as he could. She didn’t look at him. She was drinking in the expansive manor, her face expressionless.

  “What are you thinking?” Jerome couldn’t help but ask.

  Slowly, she turned her to head to look at him. A happy smile appeared on her lips, the sight knocking the wind out Jerome’s lungs. “That I am in quite a good mood this evening,” she told him. “Perhaps I will have an extra glass of wine to celebrate.”

  With that said, she made her way towards the door. Jerome stared after her, the sight of her smile lingering.

  It wasn’t the first time he’d seen her smile that way. But it was the first time she’d aimed it at him.

  His legs were unsteady as he started after her. He watched her hips sway gently, her skirt billowing under the soft wind. His loins tensed with such an overbearing need for her that he was forced to pause for a moment, to bring himself together.

  Louisa paused and looked over her shoulder at him, noticing that he wasn’t following. “Is something the matter?” she asked.

  Slowly, Jerome shook his head. He was so overcome with intense yearning that speaking would only lead him to say something he shouldn’t. She raised her delicate hand, motioning for him to come over and, as if she had cast a spell on him, Jerome instantly made his way over to her.

  Realization hit him like a brick to the head in that moment. He was already in love with her.

  Jerome remained slightly behind her, only vaguely aware of all that was happening. He hardly heard the butler’s greeting, hardly felt his feet move as he entered the manor and began to follow as they were led to the dining room. He only saw Louisa—the curve of her neck, which he so badly wanted to kiss. The tilt of her lips that had the power to rock his world. The bold set of her shoulders and the wisps of blond hair that brushed the side of her face. Jerome suddenly wished they hadn’t come here tonight. He wished they were alone, where he could gaze upon her without distraction. Yet at the same time, he was grateful that he realized his feelings here. In his father’s presence, he was unlikely to say something foolish.

  He hoped.

  The duke was already sitting at the head of the table upon their entrance. The table stretched out before him was littered with meats, stew, bread, and custards. He looked pallid under the candlelight, but much better than when Jerome had last seen him. That sharp glint in his eyes was present, at least, which Jerome took as a good sign.

  “My Lady.” Jerome nearly rushed forward when his father tried to get to his feet. He stopped himself just in time, watching as the duke rose to his full height. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  “Please,” Louisa said, her voice warm, “call me Louisa. We are family now, after all.”

  “Yes, you are right.” The duke didn’t smile, but he didn’t scowl either. That was a good sign. “Have a seat.”

  Louisa said nothing as she sat in her designated seat by Jerome’s side. The soup was served first, the heat enough to make Jerome sweat. “Father,” he greeted. “You are looking well.”

  “Well enough to eat on my own, at least,” the duke grunted. Jerome tried not to make it obvious that he was staring, watching as his father lifted a shaky spoon to his lips. “It is good that you arranged for us to meet quickly. There is no telling when I will be confined to my bed again.”

  “Let us hope we do not have to worry about that for now,” Jerome said.

  The duke scoffed. “I am not worrying. It is only a matter of fact.”

  “Is it?” Louisa asked. Jerome looked at her. As did his father. She lifted her eyes to meet the duke’s. “May I ask what your physician says about your illness?”

  A twinge of dread whispered through Jerome as he looked at his father. He didn’t realize until that moment that he was really hoping he would take to Louisa. Life would only become more difficult if he didn’t.

  The duke regarded Louisa evenly for a few moments before he said, “He does not know understand the illness well, but he is certain I will die eventually.”

  “Don’t we all?” she asked, her tone idle. “It wouldn’t do to act as if you have already died when you are up and about, don’t you think?”

  Jerome nearly held his head in his hands. He liked Louisa’s smart mouth but now he was wondering if he might have overestimated how much his father would like her.

  “Are you telling me I should not prepare myself for my upcoming death, Louisa?” the duke asked. His own tone was casual, but Jerome knew just how deceptive that could be.

  “Of course not,” Louisa said. She continued to sip her soup as she spoke. “But perhaps a brighter outlook on your situation might help you.”

  “I am terminally ill.” The duke dropped his spoon in his soup with a clatter, leaning back and crossing his arms. He didn’t even bother to hide the scowl on his face. “I am in pain this very moment as I try to keep myself upright so this one right here doesn’t become unnecessarily worried and fuss over me. I do not think you understand what this means.”

  “You are correct. I do not. I am quite healthy, you see—”

  “Louisa—”

  “But,” she continued, cutting into Jerome’s protest. Watching her continue was like watching a snowball grow larger as it ran downhill. He could do nothing to stop it but wait for it to explode all around him. “I do happen to know a few ways in which you can enjoy yourself when you have the time. Before you are driven to your bed, of course.”

  The duk
e narrowed his eyes. “And what is that, exactly?”

  Louisa gave him a devilish grin. “How about we begin with a glass of wine?”

  The duke said nothing. Jerome couldn’t find any words either. He took in her grin, not knowing whether to smile along with her or to hang his head in horror. His goal of having them grow fond of each other was a failure before they’d even moved on to the main course.

  The duke’s laughter drew Jerome’s attention. His father doubled over the table, each breath coming out in a painful wheeze as he chortled uncontrollably. Jerome was already out of his chair, rushing over to him. “Father…”