Convenient Bride for the Soldier & the Major Meets His Match & Secret Lessons With the Rake (9781488021718)

by Merrill, Christine; Burrows, Annie; Justiss, Julia

  ‘Do you mean to hold up the wall with my husband, Jacob? Or do you plan to dance?’

  ‘We are not the only men in the room,’ Fred said, trying to catch her eye and remind her of the black mourning gloves his friend was wearing, even at his own ball. ‘Surely they can find someone else.’

  ‘I believe I have danced with nearly every other man in the room,’ she said. ‘Now, it is only manners that I should dance with our host.’ She gave Fred an appraising look and held out a hand to him. ‘Unless you have changed your mind and wish to reclaim me.’

  He stared at it for a moment, but made no move. For all the bravery he had shown in battle, why did he hesitate now?

  It did not matter. He had waited too long to give his answer and she’d turned back to his friend, holding out her hands. ‘Your Gr… I mean, Jacob, will you dance with me?’

  His friend hesitated for a moment, then smiled back. ‘I had not planned to stand up. But a single dance with an honoured guest is not so very shocking. And I know better than to refuse such an opportunity.’

  Was this a dig at him? It was too late to tell. The pair was already gone, arm in arm, to take their place in the set for the next dance.

  They made a handsome couple and it was clear that dancing did Jake good. His step was light and he chatted easily with Georgiana as they moved down the row of couples. It was just the sort of thing Fred would have hoped for the fellow a week or two ago. Why did it annoy him now? And why was he feeling the same tightening in his guts that could no longer be attributed to indigestion?

  Could it really be jealousy? He had known Jake since they were seven. Even at such times as they’d both fancied the same girl, there was never a question that a romantic attachment would supersede their friendship. One would happily step out of the way if the other had a deeper feeling.

  But neither of them had been married before. Suppose Jake took a liking to Georgiana? And suppose she favoured him as well? As her stepmother had been so eager to point out, his wife had hated him before they married. He had given her little reason to change her opinion of him since.

  Without intending to, he took a step forward, half ready to go out on to the floor, grab her by the hand, and lead her back to his side. How foolish would that have been? He’d be making just the sort of scene he hated from the rest of his family. He drank deeply, wishing the champagne was something strong enough to chase the madness out of his head.

  And then, they were back, winded and happy, taking their places on either side of him as if nothing had happened. ‘Your friend is a delightful dancer,’ she said with a smile.

  ‘As is your wife,’ Jake added, looking truly envious.

  ‘Not that Frederick would know about such a thing.’ Georgiana gave him another challenging look.

  ‘Not know?’ Jake was looking at him in surprise. ‘I was under the impression that the two of you had been carrying on a secret romance for some time now. You must have danced together at least once.’

  ‘It has been quite some while,’ Fred said, wishing they had taken the time to create a believable past between them.

  ‘And Frederick is far too serious to dance.’ Georgiana was pouting at him.

  ‘He did not used to be so,’ Jake supplied. ‘I remember a time when he was the first to take the floor and the last to leave it.’

  ‘I bet he does not even know how to waltz,’ Georgiana taunted, fluttering her fan. ‘I do. I was not supposed to, of course. But I would not let prudery stop me from something so pleasant.’

  ‘Young ladies should not dance so close with men,’ Fred said automatically. ‘It is not proper.’

  ‘But I am an old, married lady,’ she reminded him. ‘No one will look twice if I do it now.’

  I would.

  ‘And I have waltzed,’ he added. ‘At the Duchess of Richmond’s ball, before Waterloo.’ When they had got word of Napoleon’s approach, he had jumped into the saddle still wearing his dancing slippers.

  The pair of them were staring at him, expectantly.

  At last, Jake said, ‘Well?’

  The band was striking up a waltz. It would look strange for a supposedly happy couple not to be dancing something that gave them a chance to hold each other in public. Perhaps someone had noticed already. By avoiding her, he was still managing to cause gossip. He wet his lips, suddenly nervous. ‘May I have this dance, my dear?’

  Now, she was the one hesitating, making him wonder if she meant to refuse. Then she smiled as mischievously as she had at Jake and curtsied. ‘Of course, my love.’

  He offered his hand and led her out on to the floor, pulling her easily into his arms.

  Other than the brief kiss on their wedding night, he had not held her so closely since that night in the club. At the thought, his blood rushed and he felt the beginnings of an autonomic reaction totally inappropriate for a grown man in a public place. He schooled his thoughts, counting out the multiplication tables in his head until he could regain control.

  ‘Do not feel it necessary to make polite conversation with me while we dance. Now that we are married, such banal courtesies are not required.’ She was smiling, but her words stung like thorns in his flesh.

  ‘Do you normally speak without regard for your partner’s feelings as you dance?’ he asked, leaning closer to whisper softly into her ear as he had at breakfast.

  ‘Is your sensibility so delicate that you cannot withstand a single comment?’

  Strangely, he felt more at ease the longer they argued. ‘I prefer to think of myself as discerning,’ he replied, twirling her. ‘I would not normally dance with a woman who only wished to insult me.’

  ‘I suspect you would cut her dead before she got the chance to even meet you,’ she replied.

  ‘And she would never let me forget it, even if I regretted it after.’ Even as he spoke them, the words came as a surprise. How different might their lives have been had he accepted her introduction and danced with her months ago?

  ‘Is this an apology?’ she said, shocked out of her sarcasm.

  ‘Now that I have met your stepmother, I think it might have been unfair to blame you for the rudeness on our first meeting, or some of the disturbances I witnessed since.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

  The hand he was holding gave his an affectionate squeeze.

  ‘And now that you have tested it, does my dancing meet with your approval?’ He gave her another quick spin in his arms and gathered her close again.

  She responded with a gasp of delight. ‘You are a very good dancer. Perhaps the best partner I’ve ever had.’

  ‘It is good to know I can get you to follow, in this at least.’ He said it gently, so she might know he was only teasing. ‘And thank you for your opinion of my abilities. From now on, when you are dancing with another, remember this moment and come back to me.’

  He’d always had confidence in his powers of seduction. But tonight, he was almost afraid that she would dismiss him as unmemorable. He held his breath, awaiting her response.

  She gave him a dazed nod. Instead of her usual look of suspicion or disgust, she was staring at him as if he was the hero some claimed he had been. The music was ending, but the moment was too precious to relinquish. ‘Shall we take a walk on the terrace?’ he said, glancing towards the open French doors.

  ‘The room is stifling,’ she agreed, though as she said it, she shivered. In anticipation, perhaps?

  ‘Let us go, then.’ He had thought to say ‘come with me’, but those words sounded too much like a command. If they ended up in the same place, was it really any different if they went side by side rather than one following the other?

  She linked her arm in his as if she could not be prouder to have him for an escort and they escaped the room together.

  On the other side o
f the doors, it was a different world. The candlelight gave way to darkness, the music to the sound of nightjars and crickets. The stale smell of too many bodies jammed together in a small space was replaced with the fragrance from pots of night-blooming jasmine decorating the low railing that gave way to the garden.

  Georgiana drew closer to him, shivering again, as if asking him to share the warmth of his body. The proper thing to do would be to return to the ballroom for a wrap. But was it really necessary to be proper at all times? The moon was full, the night romantic, and there was a beautiful girl in his arms waiting to be kissed.

  He leaned forward, ready to oblige.

  She touched a finger to his lips, holding him back. ‘We mustn’t.’

  ‘Why?’ He touched the finger with his tongue.

  ‘It is not polite. We are guests of the Duke.’

  Nothing personal, then. Just his own rules, coming back to haunt him. ‘He will not mind if he does not know.’ Fred leaned forward again.

  ‘But if someone sees us. Think of the scandal.’

  ‘Scandal be damned,’ he said, lunging forward and pressing her close.

  She gave one brief squeak of alarm before succumbing to the kiss, meeting his tongue eagerly with her own. ‘Mr Challenger,’ she murmured when he allowed her time to breathe.

  ‘Mrs Challenger?’ he answered, mocking her formality and cupping one of her breasts with his hand.

  By the way she stiffened in surprise, he could tell she had not been touched that way before. ‘No,’ she whispered, but she was laughing as she said it, as if it was not a denial at all.

  ‘No?’ he asked, releasing her and instead rubbing his knuckles back and forth across the sensitive nipple he could feel pebbling beneath the fabric of her bodice.

  ‘Well…’ She trapped his hand with her own, pressing it more tightly to her.

  ‘That’s what I thought you meant,’ he said and pulled her deeper into the shadows of the house. When he was sure they were hidden by the darkness, he dipped his mouth to her neckline, following the edge of the fabric to search for the flesh his hand had excited.

  ‘No,’ she whispered again, still laughing. But her fingers were tickling the hair at the back of his neck, stroking his nape to reward him for his daring.

  ‘Just one kiss,’ he whispered back, waiting until he felt the gentle pressure of her hand urging him on. He lowered his head further, his tongue searching for her nipple. When he found it, he felt the flutter of her heart against his cheek and the flutter of her fingers in his hair. Then she pulled one hand away, covering her own mouth to stifle a gasp as he kissed her breast, languid and tantalising, but as he had promised, only once. She took a shuddering breath, like a woman on the edge of climax.

  Though he knew he must, he did not want to release her. Until they were home and alone, one kiss was all either of them could withstand. Be damned to his foolish promise of marital celibacy. He would have his wife this very night. He would give her what they both wanted. Once desire was sated, they could discuss the future with minds unclouded by lust.

  With a sigh of his own, he raised his head and pulled the neckline of her gown up again. Then he leaned her back in his arms to kiss her lips. When he released her, she sagged against the nearest wall as if ready to swoon. So he caught her again, holding her close and resting his cheek against hers.

  From behind them, he heard a low chuckle and a cleared throat.

  They broke instantly. He stuffed his hands into his pockets to resist touching her again. She made a hurried examination of her garments, hands travelling down her bodice to be sure that everything was in place.

  ‘I wondered where you two had got to,’ Jake drawled, staring deliberately out into the garden.

  Fred felt a moment’s embarrassment before remembering that Jake had caught him doing things far more scandalous than kissing a girl in the moonlight. But it had been years since he had behaved so.

  And the woman in question had never mattered before. Georgiana was his wife. It was his job to protect her from scandal, not to lead her into it. He did not want his friends thinking of her as the sort of woman who would entertain the advances of a man like the one he used to be.

  Georgiana had turned to examine her reflection carefully in the window, as if searching for any trace of what they had done together. She would find none, he was sure, other than a slight flush on her cheeks. All the same, she muttered something about the need to go to the retiring room and hurried past the Duke, back into the ballroom.

  ‘I told you she would do you good,’ Jake said, smiling after her.

  Fred stared after her, still wondering if that was true.

  * * *

  Perhaps her husband liked her after all.

  For the rest of the evening, George did her best to regain her composure, chatting amiably with the gentlemen who danced with her and sharing gossip with the ladies they escorted. But what she actually wanted to do was to follow Frederick Challenger around the room like a moonstruck girl.

  Her head was in the clouds after the waltz. Her body tingled from the kiss on the terrace. The little part of her mind that was capable of coherent thought was focused on what was likely to come, once they got home. After discovery by the Duke, they needed to be discreet for the rest of the evening. That was probably why Frederick was distant but polite to her once he returned to the ballroom.

  But once they were home and could be alone, everything would change. He had admitted he was wrong about her, while they’d danced. If he could change his opinion, then so could she. He was still rather stuffy, of course. And too concerned with the opinions of others.

  But Jacob had said that Frederick had not always been that way. When he forgot himself, as he had on the terrace, she liked him better. A single goodnight kiss might be all that was necessary to renew his life and change hers. Now that they were finally on the way home, he lounged in the carriage seat opposite hers, his face in shadows.

  ‘I had a nice evening,’ she said, smiling to let him know that he was part of the reason for her happiness.

  ‘That is good,’ he said, but made no effort to give his opinion of the ball.

  She touched the necklace he had given her, running her fingers down the chain to her bosom. ‘And I like your gift. It is very pretty.’

  ‘You are very pretty.’ The compliment surprised her, for she’d already begun to fear that he was going to pretend nothing had happened between them.

  ‘Thank you.’ She spread her fingers across her bodice. ‘Do you like my new gown? It is more daring than I am used to.’

  His answer to this was nothing more than low, hoarse breathing. But it was proof that Polly had been right. It was easier than she’d thought to influence a man, even one as proper as Mr Challenger.

  She toyed with the necklace again. ‘I had planned to make Polly take it up. But Caroline insisted that it was no different than all the other women were wearing…’

  ‘Caroline?’ He scrambled to sit upright as if trying to put more distance between them.

  ‘Viscountess Linholm,’ she said, though it should not have been necessary to remind him of his own sister-in-law.

  ‘What were you doing with my brother’s wife?’ For a moment, a ray of moonlight struck his face. In the pale, white glow he looked almost angry.

  ‘Shopping,’ she said. ‘I believe it was what you demanded of me, just this morning.’

  ‘I never gave you permission to associate with that woman,’ he said, as if the very sound of her name might be poisonous.

  ‘That woman is a member of your family,’ she said. ‘And my family as well, now that we are married.’

  ‘I forbid you to see her again,’ he said. She did not need daylight to know that his expression was as stern as it ever had been.

  ‘Forbid me? If
you were a normal man, you’d be encouraging me to visit her.’ More than that, she had thought it would make him happy. Why had she bothered to try?

  Now he was leaning towards her, not in love, but in menace. ‘Stay away from Caroline and my brother as well.’

  ‘Which brother?’ she said, trying to hide her hurt in sarcasm. ‘You have two of them, I believe.’

  ‘Caroline’s husband,’ he said briefly, as if she were being deliberately obtuse.

  ‘And what of your sisters? I saw them as well, today. Are they a corrupting influence on me? Or do you fear I shall ruin them?’

  ‘Judge for yourself,’ he retorted. ‘I doubt my sisters were responsible for the horde of men that were swarming after you all night.’

  ‘They were not a horde,’ she said. But there had been a great many introductions made at Steven’s. Even though he had no reason to fear, she had been sure her husband would be angry.

  But he was not just angry. He was furious beyond all sense. ‘Can I not let you out of the house, even for an afternoon, without you coming home with an immodest gown, trailing half a regiment of admirers?’

  ‘If you had a problem with my dress, you had but to say so and I’d have changed before we left the house.’ Instead, he had draped her in gold and kissed her.

  But he was far past seeing reason, near to shouting in rage. ‘I warned you not to flaunt your indiscretions in front of me. And now, in the first week…’

  ‘Indiscretions?’ She could not help a surprised laugh. ‘I danced at a ball with men that had been introduced to me by a member of your family. If I was indiscreet with anyone, it was with you.’

  ‘Do not worry, madam. It will not happen again.’ He rapped his cane on the side of the coach and called out to the driver. ‘Wilson. Stop, immediately.’

  They were passing Jermyn Street. If she looked out of the window, she could almost see the black lacquered door of Vitium et Virtus. ‘Don’t you dare,’ she said, regretting it immediately. She had nothing to threaten him with other than to announce that it would make her cry. And by the tight feeling at the back of her throat, she was likely to do so no matter what he did.