by Lauren Smith
“I know full well that your brother isn’t at home. He and Anne left last evening to spend the night at Godric’s estate. They won’t be back for a few days. That gives me plenty of time.”
“Time for what?” she challenged with an acidic tone.
“To see you taken care of properly for once.” He settled back in the seat beside her and closed his eyes as though to sleep. It would be impossible; the roads were full of potholes, and the hackney kept jerking and rocking. Yet he didn’t move, didn’t stir.
Audrey almost needled him with another barb, but she hadn’t forgotten how he’d winced when he’d touched his ribs. He needed rest. She moved back to the seat he’d recently vacated. She and the cat looked at each other before she frowned at Jonathan’s sleeping form.
She was tempted to fling herself from the carriage, but she was not stupid. She would wait until they reached their destination and then offer to pay the driver to return her home at once, no matter the price.
She flung herself back in the seat and crossed her arms over her chest. The cat, finally relaxing it seemed, moved to rub against her hip, purring. The feline pawed at her elbow and she gave in, scratching his ears at his insistence.
“He is a terrible man, isn’t he?” she whispered to the cat. A terrible man whom I can’t stop thinking about.
3
This had better work. Jonathan opened his eyes as the coach came to a stop in front of his townhouse on Half Moon Street. Every muscle ached, and he wanted nothing more than to drink a bottle of scotch and collapse into his bed. But he had his future wife—God willing—to deal with first. He left the coach before her, ignoring her scowl. Then he waited patiently, holding out his hand to help her exit the coach, but she didn’t budge.
“Audrey…”
“I am not getting out. You may tell the driver to take me home.” Her haughty reply would have made him chuckle at any other time, but tonight he was too bloody tired for her games.
“You are going to make me carry you, aren’t you?”
“You will do no such thing. I’m going home.” He couldn’t see her face, but he could hear the pout in her tone.
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he leaned into the coach and grabbed her by the waist. She was such a delicate, curvy creature; he had no trouble lifting her out, despite her furious protests.
“Put me down at once!”
“I will do no such thing.” He carried her toward his townhouse, ignoring the stabbing pains in his chest. He definitely broke a rib or two in that fight.
“Wait! Archimedes!” she cried out.
“What?”
“The cat!”
Jonathan turned, but to his surprise he didn’t have to worry about carrying the cat. It had leapt out of the coach and was waiting beside them on the steps, grooming one paw vigorously.
“He is here. The bloody thing has more sense than you do. Now stop that thrashing.” He set her down but kept a firm hold on her other arm. He was not about to let her rush back to the hackney. He opened the door to his house and guided her inside. The cat followed them into the foyer.
A footman rushed to meet them. “Sir? What happened? Should I send for a doctor?”
“Not yet, thank you, Cory. Just have a room prepared for Miss Sheridan.” He looked down at the cat. “And fetch some cream for this cat. It seems he will be our guest as well. Send some food to my chambers and some wine. We are famished.”
“Of course!” The lad knelt down by the cat and spoke gently. “Care for some cream, old boy?”
“His name is Archimedes,” Audrey informed him.
“Of course, madam.” The cat let him pick him up, and they walked off toward the kitchens.
Jonathan watched Audrey glance about his home, worry crinkling her brow. She twined her fingers out of nervous habit. They were all alone now, no more barriers between them except the clothes on their bodies. He banished the sudden desire to drag her into his arms for a kiss.
“Jonathan, I cannot stay,” Audrey said in a whisper. It wasn’t her reputation she was worried about. He could see the fear in her eyes. Fear of him. She’d accused him of being cold and unfeeling, and he was anything but that, but she wouldn’t understand why he couldn’t tell her how he felt. A man simply didn’t kneel at a woman’s feet and say, “The sun rises and sets in your eyes…” like some lovesick poet. She would laugh at him.
“You can and you will. It’s the safest course of action.” He paused, eyeing her disheveled appearance. “Your gown is in tatters, and you look as though you’ve been attacked, which you were, and those men from the club could still be out there looking for you. You know too much…Lady Society.”
Audrey reddened and looked away. “I am not… It is not what you think. And besides, it is not only myself I am concerned about. Gillian is still out there…”
“I trust that Gillian is safe with James. You and I both know he’s a gentleman. And they know who you are now, whereas I have managed to remain anonymous. Which means it’s up to me to protect you, which requires you staying here tonight.” Jonathan kept hold of her arm, not in a tight grip but a gentle one, wanting her to feel his support.
“Fine, for tonight then, but I leave in the morning.” The moment she agreed, he released his hold on her arm.
They started toward the stairs, and he clung to the hope that his plan would work. He needed to convince Audrey he was worthy of her.
She followed him up the stairs as he took her to his bedchamber. The townhouse had once belonged to Lord Chessley, Cedric’s father-in-law. Jonathan had used a portion of his inheritance to purchase the home at a reasonable price. It was well situated on Half Moon Street, and the furnishings were well kept. Most bachelors kept a simple set of furniture, but Jonathan knew a bachelor residence wouldn’t be good enough when he married. He had spent months trying to perfect this house and prepare it for a future wife.
For Audrey.
And now she’s here. A flutter of nerves stirred in his belly.
He’d given quite a bit of thought to marriage. He had grown up watching his older brother take mistress after mistress before he settled down, and for a time he had followed similar lustful habits. But meeting Audrey had changed him. He couldn’t forget the sight of her last September when they’d first met. She had been young, fresh-faced, with eyes like nutmeg and hair like cinnamon. There had been an animation in her features, an intelligence and liveliness that had captivated him.
But along with his desires, his fears arose in response. I’m not good enough for her. She’s a viscount’s daughter, a gentle-born lady. I was born under a shadow, the secret son of a duke. I’ve lived almost my entire life as a servant.
The fact he was a member of the League did not help matters.
The League of Rogues—as society had taken to calling them—was made up of those he now counted as his closest friends. They had been there when he discovered his true heritage, and they’d helped ease him into London society. But they had all gained a reputation in the ton for their devilish ways with women and casual disregard for the more restrictive British norms. Only their noble titles protected them from public scorn, and that was a shield that Jonathan did not share.
The last thing he wanted was to put Audrey into a place of shame in society because of his background. But if she agreed to marry him, he would spend the rest of his life trying to be worthy of her.
“Have a seat.” He gestured to one of the comfortable armchairs and then set about lighting a fire. He supposed he could have asked one of the footmen to do it, but having once been a footman himself, he knew what a rotten task it was to do late at night. Most of the servants were already asleep. It was after midnight.
He lit the fire, and once assured the kindling would stay aflame, he turned to face her. She was studying him.
“You lit a fire.” She twirled her fingers against the red satin of her gown in a way he’d come to recognize as a sign that she was both confused and concern
ed.
“Being a former servant, that’s one of my many talents. I’m sure that shocks and horrifies you.”
Audrey’s nose wrinkled. “That’s not what—” She shook her head and started again. “What I mean is, I wish I knew how to do that. You made it look so simple just now. You know so much, how to take care of yourself, as you demonstrated by the way you fought tonight. I wish I had that strength.”
He chuckled, relaxing a little. She wasn’t upset that he was seeing to a servant’s duties; she was envious. That was unexpected, and yet he knew she was always going to surprise him. It was one of the things he liked about her. She was impossible to predict.
“You want to learn how to light a fire?” he asked.
“Well, yes. But what I really wish to learn is to fight.”
“To fight? Audrey, you were wielding a candlestick to great effect. And the poker? Lord, woman, you were a fierce creature with that.”
Her cheeks pinkened. “Yes, well, it wasn’t as if I had much choice. You were outnumbered and I needed to help, but I was a distraction at best. That is my point. I want to learn to defend myself properly.”
“Defend yourself? You shouldn’t have to—”
She interrupted him. “What? I shouldn’t have to defend myself? Because a man should always be around to do it for me?”
“Well…”
“Good Lord, if that doesn’t exemplify the problems with this country, nothing does. Women are treated as incapable of anything outside of domestic duties, and should they wish to become more capable, they are told it is men’s dominion. As a result, I was most unprepared for what occurred this evening.”
“Exactly,” Jonathan replied. “You put yourself needlessly in harm’s way. You could have been taken by any of those men, and you might’ve been killed. Langley is a devil, and he was ready to do you real harm.”
“And no doubt to you the only sensible solution would be to stay home and stop getting into mischief.”
Audrey bit her lip, and he could see she was on the verge of tears. There had been an accusation in her tone. One that wasn’t aimed only at him, but society. It spoke volumes as to why she did the things she did. He walked over and knelt in front of her. Those lovely brown eyes of hers swallowed him up. He reached out and folded one of his hands over hers, and he hated how they trembled.
“You really wish to learn to fight?”
She slowly turned one of her hands over underneath his so that their palms connected. He felt a longing he was too afraid to face directly. She made him want things, a quiet life in the country, with heated kisses, children in cradles—damnation, she made him want a future he’d never dared to dream of until now.
Of course, he knew also that this little hellion wanted anything but a quiet country life. But it didn’t stop him from longing to share with her the life he knew he could finally have as a duke’s son.
The energy between them seemed to crackle and tighten, and he knew if he leaned in and brushed his lips over hers, a spark would light between them and he would tumble them back into bed. And then they would see a fire truly start.
“Would you teach me?”
Her question caught him off guard, but as he held her hand in his, he had a glimmer of hope of winning her heart. Whatever he had done to turn her away, to make her think him cold and cruel, he would prove she was wrong.
I am a warmhearted man, though I am a bit wicked, but I want you, Audrey. I want you so much it hurts.
If teaching her how to be strong, how to survive was a way to win her, then he would do it. Charles had once mentioned a way to woo a lady he called the Tutor Gambit, where a rogue would entice a lady into learning a skill. This would force the lady to spend a certain amount of time close to the rogue, making seduction a far easier thing.
“I will teach you, but it must be done secretly. No one can know.”
“Yes, you’re quite right. Cedric would be furious, and…” Audrey’s openness receded, and he could see her closing against him.
“Audrey…”
“This must be strictly a matter of business,” she said. “Strictly professional. Tell me you agree. No more kissing, no more anything, except for the lessons.”
Every painful blow he’d taken that night in the hellfire club, every punch and kick, nothing hurt as much as the words she’d just spoken. But he wouldn’t give her up, not until he did everything in his power to prove his worth to her. That he could care and honor her as a man and as a future husband. If he failed, she would be lost to him forever, and he could not imagine a future without her in it.
“Do you agree?” she repeated, her brown eyes dark and hard in a way he’d never seen before. She said she wasn’t strong? The woman facing him now, the one demanding this vow, was an absolute fortress of strength.
Jonathan thought furiously for some way to keep this professional yet… Then it came to him. “I agree on one condition.”
She still hadn’t withdrawn her hand from his. “I’m listening.”
“That you spend one night a week in my bed—untouched, of course.” He waited for the fireworks, and he was not disappointed.
“Your bed? Why you—”
“Listen to me. I know you believe me to be cold and aloof, and perhaps someday I can change your mind on that matter. You also believe me to be a rogue, a charge I can hardly deny. But you are right about this—our arrangement must be strictly professional. What you must know is that this requires trust, more than you may realize. Passions intensify in combat. The heart quickens and the mind races. You fear the worst, and that fear can wind its way into your very blood. Rather than learn you will only react, the way a rabbit reacts to the sound of a broken twig. A rabbit is prey; it hears a threat. A fox hears the snapping of a twig and considers it an opportunity. You must be a fox. Teaching you to fight that way will require your trust.”
Audrey remained skeptical. “And you stand to gain no personal satisfaction from this arrangement?”
Jonathan grinned. “I never said that, and I wouldn’t be the rogue you believe me to be if I did. But I also believe it to be true. Think back on our adventure tonight. How often you held back or resisted me when I suggested a course of action that was in your own best interests. You do not fully trust me. Or perhaps you do not fully trust yourself around me. If you can sleep beside me, without fear that I will cross a boundary of propriety, then you will be able to participate in our lessons without distraction.”
Her cheeks turned a lovely shade of crimson. “But how could that not distract me?”
“Fighting requires physical proximity. My body will be on top of yours. I will be touching you. This cannot be avoided. If you can grow accustomed to my presence and not be concerned with the inappropriateness of it, the same will hold true with anyone else. You will stand a better chance in a fight because you won’t be distracted.”
Her eyes widened as she seemed to understand his point. But his true goal was not so simple. Being around him would calm her nerves when they sparred, true, but it would also give him ample time to seduce her outside of their lessons. With luck, she wouldn’t realize his plan until she had already fallen madly in love with him.
She was quiet for a long moment, her eyes fixed on him, and he saw the barest hint of her softening.
“Very well. One night a week, but you will face the consequences if my brother discovers us, because I assure you, I will not let him force me to marry you for propriety’s sake. That will be terrible for both of us.”
Again she found a way to wound him in a way only she could, but he soon rallied himself. “We will start your training in a few days. I need to heal before I allow you to start throwing punches at me.” He laid a hand over his ribs again, wincing as he thought of teaching her to fight with broken ribs. Perhaps he could wear some sort of padding?
“Are you really hurt?” she asked, that openness he loved returning to her face.
“A gentleman shouldn’t admit it, but…” He pause
d, taking advantage of her focus. “I am. Nothing serious enough to require a doctor, however,” he rushed to reassure her.
“Well then, let me see. Take off your shirt.”
“I thought you would never ask.” His rakish grin only made her frown and cross her arms. So much for seduction tonight. Jonathan unbuttoned his waistcoat and removed it, then lifted his shirt over his head. Her gasp made him flinch. How bad was it?
“You’re turning purple!” Her small hands were already fluttering about his chest as she eyed him with concern.
“I imagine my ribs are bruised, perhaps broken. There was one bloke with a bloody hard left hook.”
Audrey placed her fingertips on his abdomen. His muscles clenched tight as he fought off a wave of arousal. She was so close. Her soft floral scent filled his nose and made him boyishly giddy. This was why he always fled when she was near. He couldn’t control himself or act the least bit rational whenever she was like this. She brushed her fingers over his ribs and he flinched, unable to hide his pain from her.
She nodded toward his bed. “Sit down and let me have a better look at you.”
He watched her retrieve the cloth from his washstand and dip it into the water inside its white basin. She then returned to him and held his chin, tipping his head back. She used the cloth to wipe away the blood around his mouth. His lips stung, and he licked them instinctively.
“Thank you.”
“For what?” he asked.
She blushed. “You’re going to make me say it.” She sighed as though the admission she was about to make would cost her everything. “Thank you for saving my life. How did you even know where I was?”
“Charles’s man Tom found me at Berkley’s. He suspected you would be going alone and that the note stating that you planned to stay home was false. Why didn’t you take Charles with you?”
“That was the plan, but…things changed.” She became tight-lipped as to what the reason for that might be.
Jonathan was glad she hadn’t sought out the Earl of Lonsdale for aid. The man was the most wicked of the League when it came to ladies. Still, he would have been a decent escort, at least in regards to her safety, though perhaps not her virtue.