A Rogue's Surrender: Regency Novellas

by Lauren Smith

  The moment she closed the parlor door behind her, she bolted into action. The hallway was empty and she headed toward Rothmore’s office. She’d never had a chance to properly search his desk, lacking either the time or the light.

  She kept an eye out for servants but wasn’t overly concerned about being caught. If someone spotted her she could always claim that she’d gotten lost on her way to the library.

  Sometimes being a pretty young blonde had its advantages. No one ever suspected there were brains beneath the ringlets. She found the office unlocked and let herself in, hurrying to the desk. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking for—some correspondence, perhaps that mentioned his dastardly kidnapping scheme? That was probably too much to hope for. But she could find a listing of his properties. It was becoming increasingly clear that Daniel and Madeline were not at the manor, unless there was some secret, well-hidden dungeon on the grounds. More likely he was keeping them elsewhere. For what ends? That remained to be seen. To keep the radicals quiet? To scare them into dropping their complaints and their protests?

  It seemed a risky move for the elderly man, but what other option was there? As far as she could tell there was no one else who would want them gone. No one else in the area was threatened by the arrival of progressive-minded radicals.

  The sound of footsteps had her shoving the documents in her hand back into the desk drawer. It closed with a click just as the partially open door flew all the way open and the baron’s son, Vancleef, walked in.

  Her stomach sank as it did every time she was faced with this man. No, sank wasn’t quite right. Her stomach roiled and twisted as if she might not get the message that this man was no good. He was all smiles and sweet talk, but there was something cold in his eyes.

  She would have suspected him of whatever devilry had befallen her brother and sister-in-law but it just did not add up. He was a known sympathizer to the radicals’ cause. She’d overheard the radical group’s leader, Henry Marcliff, praising Vancleef for his role as mediator. He’d actually met with Marcliff and the others on more than one occasion to hear their complaints and try to smooth things over. He would have no reason to imprison or harm Daniel and Madeline.

  Which was a relief, she supposed. He was crueler than his father so if he had been behind their disappearance she would be beside herself with worry. Even now there was something slimy and hard in his eyes as he took in the sight of her. “Lost, are we?”

  She forced her silliest smile—the vacant one that put most everyone at ease. “I’m so sorry, I thought the library was back this way.” She pulled her brows together in a frown. “Did I miss it? Oh dear, I never have been good with directions.”

  His smile faltered as his eyes shifted from her to the desk and then back. When he took a step toward her, her hand automatically moved so she could feel the tip of her dagger hidden beneath her sleeve.

  Yes, that was how much this man set her on edge. His gaze was moving over her with a familiarity that made her skin crawl but she would not make a move for her weapon unless he touched her. Even then, she could likely fell him without the aid of a weapon, but the feel of cold steel beneath her fingers had a reassuring effect.

  This man could not hurt her.

  He stopped when he was close enough to reach out and grab her but she refused to back away. This was a man who would get excited if he smelled fear, she could sense it. She’d met his likes before. Bullies, every one of them. The kind of man who enjoyed toying with and even hurting people who were weaker in some way or another.

  She saw the questions forming—what was she doing in here all alone? How had she gotten lost heading to the library when she’d been there just the other day?

  She moved to speak before he could. “Such a shame that the beautiful wedding came to an end the way it did, isn’t it?” She edged to her right so she could dodge around him if need be. “I assume you’ve heard that it was my overprotective guardian.” She rolled her eyes at Gabriel’s expense.

  He eyed her again before smiling easily. “Yes, it was a shame the captain made his dramatic entrance when he did. I was looking forward to welcoming you to our family.”

  Ugh. Somehow he made those pleasant words sound foul but she maintained a sunny smile. “Well, I had better get back. My guardian will wonder where I am.”

  She hurried to the parlor and nearly ran into Gabriel as he exited the room. They both said their goodbyes to Rothmore before walking out into the sunlight. The moment they were out of earshot she let out a loud sigh of relief. That house and its occupants made her so uncomfortable it was difficult to breathe.

  Chapter Six

  The moment they turned a corner and headed down the street that led to her house, she turned on Gabriel and smacked his arm. “What were you thinking, changing the plan like that?”

  His eyes were hard and unyielding. “I was thinking that I would rather not hand you over on a silver platter if there was another way.”

  Anger at being undermined had her fighting to keep her breathing even. This man was infuriating. “We had a plan.”

  “You had a plan. I changed it.”

  She let out a grunting noise that was far from ladylike. She could have sworn she saw the corners of his mouth twitch up at the sound, which only added to her frustration. “He’s my brother—”

  “And my closest friend,” he interrupted. “And you are my responsibility.”

  She scowled up at him. She hated when he threw that in her face. “You and Daniel made that agreement ages ago. No one expects you to look after me any longer.”

  She saw his jaw clenched. “Well, too bad. You’re stuck with me.”

  Despite her annoyance, something about those words made her heart feel lighter. Not that she would ever admit it to Gabriel, but it wasn’t always easy being the only one to carry this load. Having someone else who cared about her family as much as she did was a relief.

  A nuisance, but a relief.

  Still, while it might be nice to have someone else to share the burden, it would be far more helpful if he followed her to lead. “We agreed to continue with my plan,” she said through gritted teeth.

  He stopped in the middle of the path leading up to the house and turned to face her. “Did you really think I’d hand you over to that elderly, miserable man to be his wife?” His typically stoic face was filled with disbelief, bordering on something far more heated.

  “I could have handled him.”

  He gave a short laugh. “I’m sure you could, but did it ever occur to you that you might not have to? That you don’t have to do this all on your own?”

  Her throat tightened at that and she found herself at a loss for a response. Finally, she settled for, “It was not your decision to make.”

  She turned to head inside but he didn’t move and she was forced to face him once again. His gaze was searching as he studied her. “Sometimes all those masks you wear are too convincing, even for me.”

  She blinked in surprise at that. The longer he stared the more uncomfortable she grew until she was shifting from one foot to the other beneath his scrutiny. She didn’t bother to play dumb with him and ask “what masks?” It would be an insult to both of their intelligences. Besides, he knew her and her family far too well for that.

  He took a step closer until she could smell his familiar, heady scent. A mixture of worn leather and soap that had never ceased to make her lose her senses.

  His gaze met hers. “Tell me, did you have a plan for what would happen tonight?”

  Her throat grew dry.

  At her lack of a response, he added meaningfully, “On your wedding night?”

  She cleared her throat, irritated by her own idiotic response.

  Concern clouded his gaze. “Do you even know what happens on one’s wedding night?”

  That snapped her out of the embarrassed, befuddled state. “Of course I do,” she said. “I might be an unmarried lady but Madeline made sure that I’m not entirely ignorant
.”

  Her voice was haughty and she caught one of his eyebrows twitching up with something like amusement. Most wouldn’t have spotted the minor gesture, but she seemed to have a keen awareness of his every move. A simple twitch of an eyebrow was more telling than he realized.

  “I had a plan,” she said for what felt like the millionth time. “I would not have let it come to that.”

  Surprise flickered in his eyes. “Indeed. I would love to hear how you were planning to outwit a man from taking his marital due.”

  Hearing the disbelief in his tone, she straightened. Unwanted and unwarranted heat spread through her chest and up into her cheeks as he studied her. For all her bravado, she was keenly aware of the fact that she was technically an innocent. She might understand the logistics of what went on in a marital bed, but standing there staring up at Gabriel, she found herself trying to imagine what those acts would actually be like. What it would feel like to be naked in a bed with Gabriel, pressed against his body with nothing between them. What would it feel like to have his rough hands on her skin.

  She inhaled quickly but the air didn’t seem to reach her lungs. She was lightheaded and flustered and...Gabriel was waiting for her explanation.

  “I wouldn’t have to stall for long,” she found herself saying, hoping he couldn’t hear how breathless she was. “Just until I’d found Daniel.”

  His gaze remained fixed on her, filled with disbelief and a sort of amusement. She felt the full weight of her ignorance about marital rights. Was she really so naïve? For a moment she thought to ask Gabriel to explain it to her. What was she missing? Why was it so hard to believe that she could talk her way out of her marital duties for a fortnight or so? Surely an old man such as Rothmore hadn’t wanted her for those reasons. He’d made it clear that he saw her as a helpmate. A housekeeper. A glorified pet.

  Her stomach turned as she remembered the way he’d patted her hands, an enigmatic smile on those dry, wrinkled lips. Once she is my wife, she will be in capable hands. Nausea made her weak as his words haunted her. A horrific image flashed through her mind of just how he intended to use those hands. How he meant to keep her in line. Oh Lord, what had she nearly gotten herself into?

  Gabriel’s voice lowered and until it was more of a rumble than a sound. A rumble she felt to her core. “And me?”

  She blinked up at him, taken aback by the dark, hooded gaze, the shift from amused frustration to…something else. Something darker and far more dangerous. “And you, what?” she prompted.

  He moved even closer so she could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek. “When you proposed to me, did you know what that would entail?”

  She was speechless. For quite possibly the first time in her life, she couldn’t think of a witty response. Or any response, for that matter. Because his words had eradicated the vile thoughts of Rothmore and his marriage bed. Instead her mind seemed all too eager to return to those racy thoughts she’d tried to dispel earlier.

  Her subconscious must have given it a great deal of thought over the years because the images were vivid and complete. She could practically feel his weight atop her, smell his scent as he leaned in to claim her kiss. His body would be lean and hard as it pressed against her naked breasts, her rounded hips. She gasped for air. For one glorious moment, she knew exactly what it would mean to be married to this man.

  The heat in her cheeks seemed to spread through her body, down to her lower belly and out to her limbs making her weak. She couldn’t maintain eye contact, not with the rush of heat threatening to consume her as her imagination ran rampant. She tried to turn her head but his hand caught her chin and gently turned her face back up to his.

  There was no escaping that all-seeing gaze that had darkened and filled with an emotion she didn’t recognize. It was stormy, filled with depth. Not frustration, but something more intense and magnetic. Something that called to her and made her want to reach out to him.

  He leaned in closer and the rest of the world ceased to exist. All she could see was those eyes, that handsome face, those lips that were so close to her own.

  “Did you have a plan to keep me from your bed?”

  A shiver ran through her at his husky tone.

  His gaze dropped to her lips for a moment before coming back up to look into her eyes. “Did you think me a harmless old man like Rothmore? Did you fool yourself into thinking that I wouldn’t want to make the marriage official?”

  Her lips parted for air but she had no response. What had she thought? She hadn’t, that was the answer. She hadn’t thought beyond the immediate satisfaction of her needs—the need to be free to investigate without censor or limitations. She hadn’t let herself think about what a marriage to Gabriel would be like. And now that the idea was in her head, she couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it. But now he was waiting for her to speak so she licked her lips and tried not to notice the way his eyes followed the movement. “I—I hadn’t expected us to have a true marriage. Just one of convenience.”

  The corner of Gabriel’s mouth turned up and his gaze grew hooded. He let out a short huff of humorless laughter. “Then you either underestimate your allure or you overestimate my control.”

  She blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of that statement. The girlish infatuation she’d tried so hard to ignore burst through with a vengeance, sending her heart into flight and the butterflies in her stomach into a flurry of activity. Did that mean… Was he saying…

  Her thoughts were stopped dead in their tracks as his gaze narrowed on her lips making her breathing erratic.

  He moved so quickly there was no time to think or act. His head descended, his lips covering hers with a rough urgency that left her weak. He slipped the hand that had been holding her chin to the back of her neck, holding her still as his mouth pillaged and plundered, his tongue slipping between her lips, stroking hers as he tasted and claimed.

  Lydia’s senses were overwhelmed by the feel of it. She moaned softly against his lips, begging without words for him to continue the assault. She needed more. Ached for something she couldn’t name. Her muscles turned to liquid as she tried to actively participate in the kiss, trying to take and give just like he was doing.

  His arms wrapped around her waist and he held her steady, her breasts pressed against his hard chest as the intensity of the kiss made her forget everything except for this man. When she slipped her hands up so she could feel the solid muscles of his chest, his neck, his arms, he let out a groan of tortured pleasure.

  A fleeting sense of triumph made her want to do more. Touch more. Taste more. Feel more. As she pressed herself against him, trying to ease an ache she couldn’t define, a desperation took hold. The more he kissed her, the more they touched, the less satisfied she felt. The more needy she became.

  She opened her mouth further, giving him full access, opening herself to him with a kind of blind trust she could only give to this man whom she’d trust with her life. She was rewarded with a growl of approval as he took full advantage, his mouth moving over hers in a searing kiss that branded her for life.

  The sound of a throat being cleared barely registered. But Gabriel stiffened beneath her touch, his body going rigid as he lifted his head, his eyes gratifyingly dazed as she was certain hers were as well.

  “So sorry to interrupt.” The sound of Wren’s voice woke her from her dreamy state and she jumped back, gulping for air as the reality of what they had just done struck her dumb.

  Gabriel recovered quickly. He turned to Wren and ignored the other man’s silly grin. “Did you learn anything from the radicals?”

  Wren had been tasked with putting out feelers with the underground group, seeing if he could find out anything new. “Nothing more than what Lydia had already learned, I’m afraid. They’re convinced Rothmore is a danger to anyone who speaks out.”

  As he spoke, his gaze darted from Gabriel to Lydia and back again. She was dimly aware of his looks but couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze, nor G
abriel’s. Now that the kiss had ended, her brain, which had gone into a catatonic state, had returned in full force and she couldn’t keep up with the spiraling thoughts and emotions.

  The thoughts—questions, mainly—she could force into submission. What had it meant? Why had he done it? She shoved those all aside to ponder over at another time, preferably when she wasn’t under scrutiny and not in the middle of an investigation.

  The emotions…those were harder to control. Silly, ridiculous feelings had turned her into a weak, wobbly mess. Her chest felt like it was expanding and contracting at once. Breathing seemed like a chore, like she could never get enough air.

  As she struggled to regain her composure and her wits, Wren and Gabriel held a conversation and she tried to pay attention. Gabriel, to her dismay, didn’t seem to be suffering like she was. He was composed, as usual, as he answered Wren’s questions about their meeting with Rothmore.

  He told Wren his change of plan, how the old man hadn’t fought to keep Lydia when he’d told her that Daniel had promised her to him. Wren interrupted with a wry grin. “Well, of course he wouldn’t argue with the great Captain Wainwright. He would have had to have been an idiot.” He slapped Gabriel on the back as he teased his friend. “You’re quite the intimidating soldier, if you weren’t aware.”

  Gabriel started to lead the way toward the cottage, his hand gripping Lydia’s elbow to steer her along the path as she’d apparently lost the ability to walk on her own.

  “I didn’t tell the old man my title,” he said. “He thinks I’m just a merchant friend of Daniel’s. I didn’t want to alarm him and have him do something reckless if he thinks he’s under investigation by the army.”

  Lydia, who had been staring at her feet and trying desperately not to look at Gabriel, came to her senses at that. Her head snapped up and for the first time since the kiss, she felt somewhat sane again.

  “What did you say?” She stopped walking, forcing both men to stop as well.

  Gabriel frowned down at her. “Which part?”