Any Rogue Will Do

by Bethany Bennett

  He marched on, staring resolutely ahead. The horse swung his head back toward Lottie’s voice, knowing she was usually good for a treat or two. “Don’ look at her, Ezra. You’ll only encourage her.”

  “I’m sorry. You have no idea how sorry. But if I’d had another minute to think, I’d have said yes,” she called from the window.

  At that he whirled around and growled, “Another minute? Were you sent by God tae test my patience, lass? You needed another minute? You’ve had months tae figure out the answer tae that question. Months. Did you need another minute when I took you tae bed? Or when you encouraged me tae ask for your father’s blessing—who’s still a right bloody prick, by the way. I’ve loved you for months, but you couldn’t answer one simple question when he asked.” He shook his head, then set off again, pulling Ezra behind him.

  The noise she made was somewhere between a screech and a groan. “Don’t you dare act all high and mighty with me, Ethan Ridley. You’ve loved me for months? Well, that’s just brilliant—wonderful information to keep to yourself, you coward. Because you telling my father—who, yes, is a horse’s arse—is the first time I heard you say a word about love. So forgive me if I needed a damned bloody minute to absorb that information. If you’d waited for ten more seconds, I’d have told you that I love you too.”

  He stopped again, letting the saddle fall to the ground, and lifted his face to the sky. The frigid rain could wash his face of dirt and tears and whatever else. Damn it. It irked him to admit she was right about anything right now, but she had a point. He’d never told her how he felt.

  The coach might not have been going fast, but when she opened the door and flung herself from it, basic laws of physics dictated she had few options but to land in a graceless stumble against him, nearly knocking them both over. He caught her before she hit the ground. He’d always catch her, even when he wanted to wring her neck.

  “Only a lunatic jumps out of a moving carriage. You could have been hurt. What the hell are you thinking?”

  As they stood toe to toe, Lottie jabbed at his chest. The carriage rolled to a stop about ten feet down the road. “I love you. I had this plan, where I’d apologize and we’d come up with a way to save Woodrest. Except nothing went right. We didn’t have any privacy in the carriage, and then you told me you love me—in front of my father of all people. It hit me all at once. How much I’ve hurt you, without realizing it.” Tears rolled down her cheeks before being washed away by the rain. “I don’t understand how you could love me through all that or why you’re even here helping me out of this mess again, but I’m begging you to keep showing up. Just show up. Love me, and I’ll love you, and we will make this thing between us real. Please. You won’t regret it. I promise.”

  Heartbreak and hope were a strange combination of emotions, but they poured out of him like a hemorrhaging wound. She’d asked for his trust before they’d dealt with her father, and then she’d let him down. Ethan turned his back on her to stare back at the gates of her childhood home, digging his fingers into his hair and keeping them there as he muddled through everything she’d said.

  With his hands on his head, it was simple enough for her to duck under an arm to face him again. “Let me guess. You need a moment to think?” she said with a small smile.

  A laugh bubbled up despite the emotions clutching his vocal cords. Tracing the lines of his reluctant smile with a finger, she tugged his head down to her.

  Ethan joined her in the kiss willingly enough, although without his normal enthusiasm. Right away, something was different. It was as if she poured her soul into the kiss, trying to fill the void where the broken pieces of his heart lay, soothing the pain she’d caused. After a moment, her tongue nudged at the seam of his lips, and he opened to her. Desire rose from the hurt and anger, turning the kiss frantic. Gripping the back of her head, Ethan gave her everything she’d asked for without words—the hunger, the pain, the emotional burden of loving her without being loved in return, the roiling desire that never fully settled, and finally, joy at what her body was saying. This wasn’t a goodbye kiss or an apology kiss. This was a kiss that fought for something. Fought for them.

  “I love you,” she whispered against his mouth. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. That’s what I was saying. Go ahead and be angry with me. I deserve it. I’ll still love you when you’re done with the mad.”

  Their cheeks were damp, from either the rain or tears, he didn’t know. “Say it again.”

  “I love you. I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.”

  “Do you mean it? This week has been hell on us both. I can’t do it anymore.”

  “I need you to trust me one more time, and I know that’s asking a lot.” Rain clumped her lashes into dark spikes as she looked up at him. Her hands hadn’t left him since that shattering kiss. She smoothed a finger across his bottom lip, leaving a trail of sensitized tingles in its wake.

  “Just tae be clear, I want everything, lass. A real marriage. A life together. A home. Perhaps children. I want the right tae kiss you for no other reason than that it’s three o’clock on a Thursday.”

  Lottie let loose a watery laugh as he drew her closer to his chest. “Is that what day it is? I’ve lost track.”

  The lump that had been in his throat finally went away, and he drew a shuddery breath. “I want tae hear you laugh every day.”

  “Even though I hurt you?”

  God, had she ever. Moving past that moment of devastation in the library had to be a choice. The decision came easier with her in his arms. “I’m no’ blind, lass. There will be hurt feelings sometimes. You’re a bossy, managing sort, an’ I’m a stubborn arse. Good thing we both believe in second chances.” Ethan tucked a loose curl behind her ear, then caught one of her tears with a thumb.

  “I feel I should warn you that I might not be good at this. I’ve never been a partner. All I’ve ever done is either take over or stay silent and feel trod upon.”

  “If you’re willing tae bend, then I’ll bend tae meet you.”

  “What if we butt heads all the time?”

  He laughed—something he’d thought impossible a half hour before. “Oh, lass—we will butt heads. I guarantee it.”

  The buzz whipping through him must be how birds felt when they danced on wind currents. Free, confident they wouldn’t fall. She linked her fingers behind his neck, then burrowed her nose under his jaw. A happy giggle escaped her, making him grin wider.

  Ethan tightened his arms around her waist. “Marry me, Lottie? For real this time.”

  “Take me to Scotland. Let’s get married where you grew up,” she said.

  “That sounds like the best plan anyone has ever had in the history of plans.”

  Ezra butted his head between them and whuffled in her face, making Lottie laugh again. “Hi, boy. Want to go to Scotland? I’m sorry that means you’ll be tied to the back of the carriage again.” They threaded their fingers together and headed to the waiting carriage. “Besides, there’s still Montague to deal with. I don’t know what you have planned, but I want to see it through to the end.”

  * * *

  In the carriage, Lottie slipped into her place at his side. She’d done it—told him she loved him—and now she’d be married in a few short hours.

  The coach dipped and swayed, and they fell into each other, riding the movement, hanging on to one another. Those dark curls she loved so much, damp from the rain, tangled around her fingers, tying them together. The taste of him was a welcome home. Heat rose within her, as it did each time they kissed, but this time she let it burn unchecked.

  Need—that constant companion when he touched her—clawed, demanding she get closer, press harder, love deeper. When Ethan pulled her into his lap, she helped bunch the wet fabric of her skirts high up her hips so she could straddle him. A happy sigh escaped her, turning into a moan when the juncture of her legs—with that marvelous epicenter of sensation—rode the ridge in his breeches. The building tension brought heat, with
a tingling that began at her toes and traveled up the back of her legs, to wrap around her inner thighs. With frantic, fumbling fingers, Lottie opened the placket of his breeches, reacquainting herself with his length.

  Breaking the kiss, Ethan leaned his head against the velvet padded wall, groaning. “We don’ have a French letter.”

  A bead of moisture pooled at the head of his cock before she spread it around the crown with a thumb. “Do we need one? Think of this as our wedding night, a few hours early. Didn’t you say the Scottish were fine with playing fast and loose with the formalities? We can make our public declarations tonight with the minister but make private promises here. Just you and me making vows.”

  Ethan nuzzled her ear, placing kisses along her jaw. Before he reached her mouth, he pulled back. “Another excellent plan. I love you, Charlotte Wentworth. You have my heart an’ my trust. I give you my hand, my name, my love, and my protection. All I have is yours. How do you English say it in the Book of Common Prayer? With all my worldly goods, I thee endow.”

  “I promise to love you—even when it’s scary to do so. I vow to come to you with my fears.” She wanted to memorize every hard angle and rugged plane. As she stared into his blue eyes, with their gold starbursts and burning emotions, the vows came easily. “I am bringing you all the parts of me that don’t work well with others and am trusting we can figure it out. I vow to be your friend and partner. I can’t in good faith promise before God to obey you. I think we both know that would be a lie.”

  Ethan laughed, wrapping her closer against his chest. It felt wonderful to laugh in such a serious moment.

  Months ago, in that inn off the beaten path in Warwickshire, she’d cursed how his scent affected her. Now he smelled like love, safety, and a warm future full of moments like this. Although he could use a bath.

  With a grin she teased, “It’s probably best that we aren’t doing this in the Church of England. I don’t think we could keep a straight face for that part of the vows. But the rest? The rest is there. I will honor you. Keep only to you, forsaking all others. In sickness and in health. Are we married now, by Scottish standards?”

  “Close enough,” he whispered, already bringing her close for a kiss.

  Positioning his cock at her entrance, she moaned at the sensation of having him inside her again. With the carriage movement dictating their rhythm, they clung to one another.

  Ethan helped tug her dress and shift down to free her breasts into his eager hands. Muttering expletives that sounded like praise, he lifted one breast to his mouth and drew heavily on the tip. Closing her eyes, she threw her head back and surrendered to the sensation.

  “I’ve missed you, Ethan.”

  He moaned encouragements against her skin, then switched his attention to the other breast while his hold on her hip tightened to guide her along his shaft, building the friction they both needed. “Keep talking, lass.”

  “What’s the rest of it? With my body, I thee worship.”

  “I think that’s my line. With my body, I thee worship. An’ all the rest that I can’t remember right now, because holy hell, Lottie, you feel amazing.”

  As he met her stroke for stroke, they stole kisses, gasping for air that tasted of rain and pleasure. “Tell me again.” His intense gaze fed her desire.

  She knew exactly what he asked for. “I love you.” The carriage rocked beneath them, their bodies chasing pleasure as fast as the wheels could take them.

  “I want you tae come apart in my arms.”

  Tremors began in her thighs, then her belly quaked. She lost the rhythm, so he carried her through as the tension within finally released and stars ran through her veins. Below her, his hips bucked, surging into her body, as he followed her over the edge.

  Clutching her in the aftermath, he stroked her back, then down her arms and back up to begin again at the base of her neck. Touches to calm and cherish, not entice.

  With a happy sigh, she said, “I love you. I know I said it a few minutes ago in the middle of all that, but my brain was spiraling out the top of my head at the time, so I’m not entirely sure I got my point across.”

  His arms tightened around her. Ethan buried his face in her hair. “I’ll never tire of hearin’ it. I adore every gorgeous, bossy inch of you.” He squeezed one breast. “Especially these bits.”

  A growl rumbled through the coach. They looked down at Ethan’s stomach. He shrugged a bit sheepishly.

  “I can fix that.” After setting her dress to rights, Lottie reached for the hamper on the opposite seat.

  “You did this?” Ethan unpacked the basket.

  “Of course not. I was busy having an emotional breakdown. Darling and Agatha are the heroes here. They packed the basket, sent for the carriage, and gave us their blessing. They’re going to rest for a bit, then follow behind us.” Lottie popped the cork off a flagon of wine and pulled out two metal cups. “I don’t know what I’d do without the two of them.”

  Ethan swallowed a mouthful of food. “What does Lady Agatha think of the plan tae marry in Scotland? Won’ she want the grand gown and St. George’s?”

  “She said—and I quote—as long as she’s there to wish us happy, we could get married naked in the woods if we wanted. I can now testify that Scottish ceremonies are very loose in your wild country, so the naked thing is definitely an option.”

  His laugh warmed her to her toes. “And Darling? Did you suggest she come along and marry her coachman while there? Because that sounds like one of your plans.”

  Lottie gaped in mock outrage. “I’m not that managing—” He cut her off by shoving a slice of ham in her mouth. “Fine, yes. She and Patrick are coming with Agatha,” Lottie confessed around the ham.

  “You are nothing if not efficient, love. Did you ladies plan out the rest of Patrick’s life?” He washed the teasing down with a healthy gulp of wine.

  “Of course we did. They’ll either move with us to Kent or breed horses in America.” Lottie nibbled a piece of cheese, returning his sarcasm with her own.

  “Either way, we’ll always have room for them. They might be a good fit for an idea I had while home.”

  She brushed away a bread crumb stuck in his scruffy beard. “What have you been concocting in between fighting fires, catching saboteurs, and rescuing damsels who poison people?”

  “The man Montague hired, John Billings. He worked against his conscience tae sabotage my home in exchange for barely enough money tae feed his wife and children for a week. He’s a former soldier. Lost his leg in the war. How many more soldiers are desperately tryin’ tae feed themselves and their families but can’t find work because of a physical handicap? I want Woodrest tae be a place where men can work with dignity and raise their families outside dangerous neighborhoods like Seven Dials and the rookeries.”

  Lottie laid her head on Ethan’s shoulder. She nibbled on a dried piece of fruit and offered it up to share. What he proposed made so much sense, especially when one knew his generous heart. Thank heaven he hadn’t been raised to be a lord. Because of that, he was better than most of the aristocracy.

  “I love it.” She gave him a peck on the lips, pulling back before the sweet sentiment could build into anything more. “Thank you for riding across the country to save me. You were so dashing, ready to fight Montague.”

  “Aye, but you got tae him first, you little savage.” The dimple in his cheek never failed to cause a flutter in her belly. “I’ll always come for ye, lass. And I’ll mow down anyone fool enough tae get in my way.” Ethan let go of her hand to bury his fingers in her hair, holding her steady for his kiss as the carriage hit a bump. “Are you sure you don’ want the society church wedding?”

  “I told you, Agatha is joining us tonight. We have it all planned.”

  He sighed. “I’m surrounded by managing females.”

  “Get used to it, Lord Amesbury.”

  Epilogue

  The river and nearby waterway of the Solway Firth carried men, ships, and sil
t to and from the sea with the temperament of a demanding mother-in-law. The air smelled like mud and fish.

  Cal might be cranky with fatigue. Once he finished this task, he’d get something to eat. Maybe that would help. Lack of food made him irritable, and he was most definitely irritable.

  A muffled sound came from the other seat in the carriage.

  “Shut up,” he replied.

  Montague glared ineffectual daggers from behind his gag. No doubt the man was making a rude gesture behind his back, where Cal had tied his hands.

  Justice was justice, after all. And Cal was nothing if not fair. Montague had been treated to the same tender ministrations he’d shown the new Lady Amesbury.

  Ethan and Lottie’s marriage over the anvil had taken mere moments. Glancing at his pocket watch, Cal checked the time. The lovebirds were naked by now. He’d bet on it.

  Angus, an affable three-toothed man who’d known Ethan since birth, opened the door and climbed inside, carrying the smell of whisky and tobacco with him. “Time tae take out the rubbish, eh? ’E’s beginning tae smell.”

  “You don’t know the half of it. Let’s just say this has been a very long trip,” Cal said. Whatever Lottie had given the man was nothing short of foul.

  Angus directed him to a pub near the docks that was suitably disreputable for their needs. In the farthest corner, drinking in the shadows, sat a man with his back against the wall. After years of friendship with Ethan, Cal would be the first to admit that his metric might be skewed. But judging by the man’s shoulders, he was a bit of a beast. Easily as broad as Ethan, but without any layers of gentility. Definitely a rough character, although younger than he’d expected.

  Angus doffed his cap. “Captain Harlow? Had a bit of trouble. Thought ye could help. Lord Carlyle, this here’s the gentleman I told ye about.”

  Gentleman might be stretching the truth. Pirate was probably more accurate. Cal eyed the sketchy seafarer a moment before motioning to a passing barmaid for another round of ale. The woman eyed him up and down suggestively, then winked when he placed a coin in her palm.