He stalked to his own bedchamber. Once inside, he paced, wishing he had some grand gesture at his disposal. "And here I was counseling Simon to employ this tactic. I have nothing now, when I most need it."
He glanced towards the connecting door. What a vision Felicia had been, the night of their wedding. She would always keep him off balance. There was nothing he wanted more, at this moment, or for the future.
He strode toward the door, resting his forehead against the barrier between him and his wife.
"Felicia," he said, not knowing if she could hear him. "Felicia, I know you will forgive me. Not because I deserve it," he hastened to add, before she could crash through the doorway and plant him a well-earned facer. "But because you are generous, and kind, and most of all compassionate. I have done nothing today to earn that from you, but I pray you will be merciful, and allow me to explain."
He waited but there was nothing to indicate she was listening to him. He sighed. There seemed no hope for him after all.
All at once, he stumbled forward, his hands outspread to rebalance himself. He nearly righted himself by grabbing on to Felicia, but the expression on her face halted that notion. He was gratified to see that her tears had ceased, though her eyes were red-rimmed, so it had only been recently.
More importantly, her cheeks were stained with red, and it was quite obvious it was from anger.
He nearly sagged with relief. He much preferred an angry Felicia to a sad one. He bit back a smile just in time. It would not do for him to anticipate victory before it was in hand.
"Felicia, I pray you will give me a moment to explain myself."
She continued to hold onto the door. He hoped that did not mean she meant to slam it into him. He edged closer to it, hoping to block it if she did have such plans.
"Do not attempt your seductive wiles on me," she said. "I am quite immune to them. At least at present."
"Fine. I shall reserve my seductive wiles for a later time. Perhaps after you have concluded tearing a strip from my hide. I will not object so long as it brings you pleasure."
She narrowed her eyes. Her hands balled into fists, so he stepped back a pace. Still, her anger was a mirror of her passion, and her body exhibited similar reactions. How could he not respond to those visual cues? Though if he did, she was likely to render him a eunuch. He had to dispel her anger, and quickly.
"I am a poor excuse for a husband. I understand that. I have blamed my own parents for being such a dreadful example." He saw her features soften slightly. "Yet I cannot blame them for my own failings. My own fears."
He saw the fierceness in her expression change to curiosity. "You feared being a husband?"
He shook his head. "I feared I was unable to be a good husband. The husband you deserve. How could I hope to measure up to this mythical man you were fated to fall in love with?"
She shook her head, as if she was resigned to conversing with a simpleton, but at least she stepped away from the door, and closer to him. She was not likely to slam the door into him now. His optimism rose.
"Hugh, I was not looking for a myth. I was looking for my one true love. No one was more dismayed than me to learn it was you."
He choked out a laugh. "You were dismayed? I thought you had fallen instantly in love—"
"I did! And I was elated, beyond belief. Then I saw it was you and I nearly yelled at the fates. Why would my one true love be you, who not only was the one I'd known since I was a child, but was betrothed to another!"
"If that is the only reason you were dismayed—ouch!"
How had she gotten close enough to pinch him without him noticing?
"How could I hope to prove I loved you if it appeared I was still Flighty Felicia? Destroying your betrothal, wreaking havoc with your plans, ensuring the ton would think I was merely on another lark." She sighed. "I tried to abandon this endeavor. But it was not possible. So I began to believe we were meant to be together after all. But it appears I was wrong about that as well."
He stepped closer, wanting her in his embrace, but not entirely sure he could prevent further pinching from her. He waited until her arms were at her sides and then he wrapped his tightly around her.
"You are not wrong," he said. "About anything."
"Hugh." She wriggled, making him very inconveniently aroused.
"Felicia, be still, for just a moment. If you please."
"I cannot move my arms."
"I felt it necessary to take precautionary measures. At least until I can complete my grovel."
She snorted. "You consider this a grovel?"
"I have merely commenced! And I have very little groveling experience, I might add."
"That is patently obvious," she said, but this time her voice sounded more indulgent. "I will be happy to give you some pointers."
"So that I might use them in the future?"
"Precisely."
He pretended to groan, but in truth his heart soared. His wife intended to have a future with him, and if it meant he must endure her pinches, and grovel on a daily basis, he would do it. He would do anything to make her happy.
"I have a host of things I need to tell you," Hugh said. "First, and most importantly, I love you."
Her head snapped up, and she gazed into his eyes, as if trying to determine his sincerity.
"I love you," he repeated. "I have loved you for much longer than I even realized."
"Goodness, Hugh, you could have saved us both a great deal of agony if only you had been aware of your feelings sooner."
"Felicia, you must be the only female alive who receives a declaration of love and returns it with a scolding."
"I am certain it is one of the many things you adore, so I cannot apologize for it."
She reached up on her tiptoes to kiss him, and he kept his arms tight around her, to ensure she did not move away before he finished what he had to say.
"There are many things I adore about you," he said. "Shall I tell you of them?"
"Soon. But first I must apologize for not being the wife you wanted—"
He halted the rest of her words with a fervent kiss. "You are the wife I wanted. It merely took me too long to understand it."
"And you know I will always try to be the perfect mother for Lucinda."
He pressed his lips to hers once more.
"You already are the perfect mother. That is what I set out to find, the minute Lucinda was deposited into my care, only I was misled into thinking she needed something else. She needs you. She adores you." He chuckled. "In truth, she scolded me quite fiercely at having caused you to cry."
Felicia's face lit up with joy. "Did she?"
This time he did groan. "You two are going to continually conspire against me. I should cede control of my future to the both of you."
"You did that a long time ago," she said cheerfully.
"Indeed I did."
She tilted her head, and he could not resist the temptation to nibble on her exposed neck. Her shivers were a treasure, nearly distracting him from the rest of his apology to his beautiful wife.
"I worried you were a corruptible influence, for Lucinda, and most especially for me. Yet you are actually a comforting one."
"Who better to help you handle a headstrong daughter than a wife who has lived her entire life as a headstrong woman?"
"Precisely what I was planning to say next."
He nibbled upward, towards her ear.
"I have learned from you as well," she admitted. He glanced towards the bed, intent on occupying her for the next long while. "And not just there."
It was his turn to tilt his head inquisitively.
"I have learned that being a parent requires making those hard choices which a child cannot make for herself." She softened into his arms a little more. "It cannot be easy for you, though you make it appear that way sometimes. I fear I shall always make missteps."
"I shall too."
"I was too harsh with you earlier."
"You were
not," Hugh said. "You made me see a lot of things differently. I might not have without your well-timed rebuke."
"No, if I had not—"
"Felicia, confound you. I cannot even apologize without you being entirely contrary!"
"And I was about to say the same of you. You are impossible, Hugh. You always have been. It is beyond me how you found a woman to marry you."
"I am fortunate my wife proposed to me." At the fierce look in her eyes, he squeezed her. "Do not think you can pinch your way into my good graces. Those fingers can be quite diabolical at times."
Her soft laugh was a balm to his heart. "What if I were to promise to utilize them in a different fashion?"
"That sounds tempting," he admitted, chuckling. "Though I would be every kind of fool if I believed you."
"I am wounded," she said, her lips pouting in such a tempting way. Her voice was husky, belying her actual words.
Hugh returned his attention to her earlobe, dotting it with tender kisses. She tilted her head to give him even better access. Much as he would love to see her hair draped over her shoulders, at this moment he was grateful for the topknot that left her graceful neck and ears exposed for his pleasure.
"Hugh, please," she said, her voice nearly a whimper.
"I love you, Felicia. I adore you. I will worship you all my days, for I cannot imagine a life without you. Please do not ever doubt my love for you, no matter what pig-headed thing I am bound to say or do in the future."
Felicia stopped him with a kiss, one that was as heartfelt and passionate as his own words. He groaned as he tasted her, unable to resist her a moment longer, ready to show her how much he loved her.
She finally broke off the kiss. "Oh, Hugh, you know how much I love you. You have given me a family I will always cherish. Even if our children end up headstrong like me."
"And stubborn like me." He chuckled. "Lucinda is going to be a frightfully bossy older sister."
"Indeed she is." Felicia grinned as she wrapped her arms tightly around him. "But won't it be amusing, a passel of children with Flighty Felicia and Lord Wastrel as their parents?"
"You may have just convinced me to permanently lock the connecting door—ouch!"
"You deserved that. Now let us retire while you tell me again how much you love me."
"I would prefer to show you." His lips lifted into a slow grin. "It is likely to take a very long while. The remainder of the day, at a minimum. Lord Wastrel never likes to be rushed."
She grabbed his hand and led him to the bed.
EPILOGUE
Aphrodite shivered as Ares trailed his finger down her exposed arm.
"I am rather confused," he said, his voice soft.
"About what?" she managed. It was difficult to concentrate on conversation once his lips touched her skin, following the path his finger had just travelled.
"The curse. It didn't seem to go the way we expected, did it?"
"Not precisely."
Ares lifted his head to gaze at her. She placed her hand on his nape, gently moving him back to the spot on her neck that always made her quiver. She felt the rumble of his laughter against her pulse.
Another nibble, and another kiss, and she would not be able to converse at all. Thank the gods she was immortal, and had centuries to indulge her passions.
"The curse," she breathed, stroking Ares' hair at the same time, "did work. Only I did not discover until later, much later, that it was not Felicia who was cursed. It was actually Hugh."
"How so?"
"Felicia was already halfway in love with him, so when she and I came into contact, it merely raised it from its dormant state."
"So she was cursed."
Aphrodite laughed at the bewilderment on her beloved's face. "No, it was Hugh that needed to find his one true love. If it were not for Felicia pursuing him so assiduously, he would have never found her."
"Especially when she was eloping every fortnight."
"Yes. And it's obvious they are perfectly matched."
"It did not seem so at first," he reminded her.
"No, but that was what made it so amusing."
"So we are done with curses now?"
She hesitated.
"Noooo," he moaned.
"I have some loose ends to tie up."
"Ahh, Aurore and her coachman, Frederick."
She flushed at the mention of her longest-running failure. "Yes, but I have hopes, I mean, plans to rectify that. And I have something in mind for the other two gentlemen in that family, though I am torn between the Duke who has a half-hearted belief in the curse, and that gambler who believes only in his own luck."
"Perhaps you can instruct them on what a grand gesture entails, since neither of these rogues have any notion at all."
Aphrodite laughed. "I knew you had a romantic streak."
"Well, since there are likely to be many lovers who require your assistance, it would be wise for me to enjoy our sojourn here." Ares gathered her into his arms, his face lit up with a smile that always made Aphrodite catch her breath. "Perhaps we should retire to consider all the possibilities, amorous and otherwise."
She blinked to break the spell her lover was casting over her, while she could still gather her thoughts. "You are much too distracting," she confessed.
"That is my goal. It is always my goal."
"I shall not be dissuaded," she said, attempting a stern demeanor.
He laughed, and led her to their bedchamber. "Nor shall I."
~ * ~
Lord Wastrel isn't the end of Aphrodite's attempts to play matchmaker! Her next challenge is in Falling for His Duchess, where Julian hides the fact that he's a duke in order to win the heart of a country vicar's daughter who has just been jilted.
About Donna Cummings
I have worked as an attorney, winery tasting room manager, and retail business owner, but nothing beats the thrill of writing humorously-ever-after romances. I reside in New England, although I fantasize about spending the rest of my days in a tropical locale, wearing flip flops year-round, or in Regency London, scandalizing the ton.
Visit author website
www.allaboutthewriting.com
Thank you so much for reading the Rakes and Rogues Boxed set. We hope you enjoyed all the stories! Please consider leaving a review—either positive or negative at the vendor of your choice. Reviews help others find a book that’s right for them. We would love to read your thoughts on our stories.
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A Very Wicked Christmas Anthology
Have Yourself A Very Wicked Christmas!
Six of today’s most popular regency romance authors come together to deliver a holiday anthology full of passion, promise, and scandalous dalliance.
In stores October 18
1. THE CHRISTMAS AFFAIR
by
Heather Boyd
Harper Cabot, the proprietor of Cabot’s Haberdashery, was devastated by the death of his wife to the point he cannot pack away any of her belongings. Everyone expects his mourning to end soon, but he is devoted to his business and ignores how lonely his life has become in every other respect. A chance encounter brings Amy Mellish to Harper’s notice when he discovers the woman huddled behind his store one bitterly cold night before Christmas. Stirred by compassion and unexpected attraction, he offers Amy shelter in his home…only to have the woman seduce him before the night is over.
Amy has long admired the proper Harper Cabot from a distance, believing a prostitute very far below his notice and unneeded in his life. Although saddened by his loss, Amy very much needs Harper’s protection and boldly strikes a bargain to stay in exchange for satisfying his lust. In Harper’s arms, Amy discovers passion beyond her experience even though the signs of the late Mrs. Cabot linger in every corner of his home. Although begun as a diversion from shared sorrows, can their brief affair overcome the bitter memories of Christmases past and create the lasting connectio
n they both secretly desire?
2. LOVE AT FIRST DANCE
or
Jane and the Vile Seducer
by
Barbara Monajem
Sir Colwyn North’s uncanny seductive powers made him an excellent spy—but they also gave him the worst sort of reputation. Given his dreadful past, his only hope of winning the hand of the very proper Lady Jane Dew is to trick her into marriage. By way of seduction. While in disguise.
Jane has had enough of tedious propriety; she wants excitement. Duty-bound, she attends a Christmas house party at the estate of a scheming marquis, who has plans of his own for her. She intends to choose her own husband, and the son of the marquis is not on her list. The enthralling but nameless seducer who visits her nightly in her dreams might be…but first she has to find out who he is.
Will Lady Jane reject Sir Colwyn when she discovers the truth? Or will he find another devious way to capture her heart?
3. JOY TO THE EARL
by
Nicola Davidson
Shunned for his mismatched eyes and awkward limp, Yorkshire carpenter Jack Reynolds lives a lonely and impoverished existence. Then comes a shocking discovery: he’s the discarded heir of a wealthy noble family, and if he travels to London by Christmas, he’ll not only gain an earldom, a home, and position like he’s never dreamed, but maybe – just maybe – he can finally lose his damned virginity.
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