Nevertheless, someone always had to pay.
Sometimes men were forced to act. Take matters into their own hands. More often than not, the women suffered.
Some women were forced to suffer. He knew that, too.
They were bystanders, pawns, playthings.
And some women just needed to be taught a lesson.
One in particular came to mind.
* * *
Sabrina tossed in turmoil half the night, only sleeping near dawn, but deeply and dreamlessly. The following morning, in the event Gideon had returned to his rooms and dressed before she woke, she went to his study to seek him.
He was not there, but he surely had been. Sabrina shook her head at the mess he left behind.
For the first time since she had known him, Gideon must actually have lost his temper. He certainly seemed angry the night before, close to fury when he left her. Now the results lay scattered undeniably before her. ‘Twas a tantrum of formidable proportions by the looks of the place.
In the process of straightening the disorder, Sabrina found, beneath a small, upended, unvarnished inner-drawer, a scrap of paper that intrigued her. Folded numerous times into very small squares, the scrap fit the small drawer perfectly.
She located the inner drawer’s resting place, behind a visible outer drawer, and recognized the small compartment as a secret drawer. This document had been secreted away, never to see the light of day.
So of course Sabrina unfolded the document and spread it out before her.
Even after reading it twice, she did not know what to make of it.
The official-looking certificate almost appeared...If she did not know better— Sabrina sat. Had Gideon lost his fortune on the stock exchange? The puzzling record before her certainly made the possibility appear fact. If so, he must be frantic with worry.
Could this be the prize Lowick sought? If, indeed, it had been Lowick who broke in and struck poor Doggett before they returned from Christmas at Grandmama’s house.
Homer Lowick devoured the vulnerable. And losing one’s fortune certainly made a man vulnerable. Poverty could turn Gideon into prey, rather than protector. It could make him appear weak, rather than strong.
“Poor Gideon.”
Sabrina found it difficult to imagine Gideon St. Goddard, Duke of Stanthorpe, radiating anything less than absolute strength, control and power. Weakness simply did not suit his nature, yet the document clearly revealed—
No wonder his ire, nay his frustration, of the night before. No wonder—
Poor Gideon, did she say?
Drat her for losing her focus. She should be worried about his inability to support her and the children, not about his feelings.
Rogues, she must remember, experienced nothing so mundane as feelings. For the sake of her children, she should leave Stanthorpe Place and seek more able protection. But as long as her children had a roof over their heads and food in their bellies, how could she leave Gideon, when he must need someone, more than ever?
Besides, he had become everything to the children.
Sabrina went back upstairs, her mind filled with her husband’s problems. She was pacing his bedchamber considering those problems when he returned.
In nothing but his breeches and open dressing gown, her sleep-mussed husband looked as if he had run all the way down the stairs. His cheeks rosy, his brows were furrowed with...embarrassment? Chagrin was clearly writ there, as well.
Sabrina’s imagination painted a picture of what might have taken place upstairs in the nursery, and she grinned. “Such a lecherous rogue you look. Do not say that you faced Miss Minchip in your morning dishabille and frightened her witless.”
“Faced her? Frightened her? I was sound asleep, thank you very much, my dressing gown open, if you please. ’Twas she who frightened me with her foolish screams.” He ran a hand through his sleep-tossed locks. “I woke and scurried away like a thief in my own house.”
“My poor cross bear,” Sabrina said, talking baby talk, stroking the night’s growth of beard on his cheek. “Did the nasty old nanny scare you?”
For half a minute, the frown on Gideon’s brow became more pronounced. And just when his eyes lit, and he became focused on the fact that she was playing, and he reached for her, his valet stepped into the bedchamber, and made to back out as fast.
“His grace will not need you today, Bilbury,” Sabrina said, turning to the valet. “I will handle his morning ablutions, myself. Will you just see that a tub of hot water is readied in his dressing room?”
“Very good, your grace.”
“Thank you, Bilbury.”
Gideon’s grin appeared. “You will see to my morning ablutions? This becomes intriguing. To what do I owe the pleasure of your undivided attention?”
Gideon began to advance and Sabrina allowed him to catch her.
When he had her in his clutches, she slipped his dressing gown from his shoulders. “I simply want to thank you for protecting the boys from the storm, last night.”
“I should, perhaps, point out that I was given little choice in the matter. You were like to sleep-walk your way out the front door.”
Sabrina grimaced. “Well, I know that you did not.” She ran her hands over his chest, allowing herself to absorb and enjoy the feel of his skin against her palms, of his chest hair, silky, not coarse, as she used to think, enticing and strangely arousing as it slid between her eager fingers.
She found a hidden nubbin, teased it with her finger, then her tongue, as he often did to her, and a low growl emerged from Gideon’s throat. By the time she looked up, he was opening his mouth over hers, bending her backward in his arms.
Afraid she would fall, Sabrina grasped him tighter, but he arranged to have them land on his bed, him on top, smiling victoriously down at her.
They had never come together in broad daylight. She had never wanted, in the true sense, to experience almost everything with him when she was alert and awake, and accountable to herself for her actions.
Perhaps her boldness stemmed from the fact that she had it in her mind that she could help him for a change. She was acting from a position of strength for once, a feeling she embraced.
She knew not what, exactly, drove her to seduce her husband amidst her worry over his losses, but she did feel driven.
They heard the servants filling the bathtub in his dressing room and pulled somewhat apart, lest one of the retainers enter, but no one did.
“You said you would care for me, yourself,” Gideon said, his voice butter smooth, enticing. “Does that mean you will help me with my bath?”
“I will.” She raised her chin, but lowered her lashes, aware she was flirting. Flirting. With her own husband.
Gideon hardened the more against her. She would never stop thrilling to the knowledge that she aroused him. “I missed you last night,” she said. “I went looking for you.”
“Did you? We were all asleep?”
“You were. The boys were awake. Rafferty said you were frightening the thunder away with your snores.”
“The bounder. Much good it did me to protect him.”
“He was smiling when he said it.”
“I suppose that must count for something.”
“With our Rafe, it must. Do you care for your bath, now, your grace?”
“Have I any other choice?”
Sabrina sighed. “I wish.”
“Do you?” Gideon pulled back so he could see her better. “Honestly?”
Sabrina blushed, which apparently became answer enough, for his grin reminded her of the undeniable rogue who drove so sensual a bargain on their wedding night.
“Away to my bath, then Milady, and scrub your Lord and Mater’s back, and whatever else comes to...hand.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“How can I bathe you with that monstrous thing in my way?” Sabrina asked, not five minutes later, as she leaned over Gideon’s bathtub, washcloth in hand.
“Why thank you, Bree.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Well, how can you blame me? Since Juliana’s birth, we have abstained for, what, six months?”
“Four and a half weeks.”
“Is that all, by damn?” Gideon threw his head back in a caricature of martyrdom. “Yea, how I have suffered.”
Sabrina smiled at his play, enjoyed it, even, so much so that she dared reach into the water to grasp his poor neglected...self. “Let me make it better.”
Like Neptune rising from the sea, Gideon stood, stepped from the tub and lifted his wife in his arms, all in one shocking move.
He carried her to his bed and they went down as one, dripping, soaking the covers, and kissing as if they had not kissed in months.
“Touch me now,” Gideon said, “The way you just did in— Ah yes.” He set his jaw and closed his eyes in an ecstasy of sweet suffering. Then he touched her in return, more gently than ever, so lightly and beautifully that together they found the release denied them.
They remained entwined for a long, splendid, eternity of kisses, until Juliana in the next room began to make her presence known.
While Gideon took his bath, Sabrina changed her clothes, and fed the baby, and just when she got to the point of beginning his shave, the boys trooped in.
Sabrina gaped at them, and then she gaped at Gideon. “I assumed that your door had a l-o-c-k,” she spelled.
“N-o,” he countered with a grin, looking jocular beneath his shaving cream. “I never needed one before.”
“Well you need one, now. I mean, I knew that my door did not lock, but I assumed that the Duke’s did. Good God. We might have...They could have...”
Sabrina gave up raving and shaved her husband.
“Do not cut off anything important,” Damon said.
“What do you mean by important,” Sabrina asked.
Damon rolled his eyes. “His nose, of course, and his ears.”
“And take care to shave his chin dimple well,” Rafe said. “Old Mr. Bundy, the farmer,—do you remember him, Mama?—He always had pig whiskers bristling from his chin dimple.”
Sabrina had to stop, because Gideon had broken into a fit of laughter. When he caught his breath he regarded Rafe seriously. “How do you know they were pig whiskers?”
“Well, they were his own whiskers, of course, but one day his porker came up to him as he spoke to me and I saw that their whiskers were exactly like.”
“Will you stop laughing,” Sabrina ordered her husband. “It is not easy to shave you while you do. I shall snip something important, if you do not calm yourself.”
Gideon cleared his throat and relaxed, though his shoulders shook at regular intervals after that.
“There,” Sabrina said when she was done. “Everything still attached, and Rafferty, you will note, that I did a good job on the chin dimple. Not a single pig whisker bristles from it.”
“It is time to go back upstairs and do ciphers with Miss Minchip, is it not?” Gideon asked the boys, while Sabrina wiped the excess froth of shaving soap from his face.
They groaned in unison, but they went.
When they were gone, Sabrina broached the subject praying on her mind. “I am a bang-up rider, Gideon, did you know that?”
Gideon started in surprise at the question. “I did not. When we go down to Sussex, I shall have to let you ride one of my Arabians.”
“I am better than a simple rider, I mean. I once jockeyed in a race where a certain gamester lacked the funds to pay a real jockey?”
“Your husband lacked the funds, you mean?”
“I won a fat purse.”
“Congratulations. I did not know I had married a horse jockey.”
“There is a race at The St. Eustace Winter Fair in three weeks time. I have seen your Arabian. Deviltry is a prime goer. I could ride him at the fair race and win you the purse. I imagine five thousand pounds would help.”
“What?” Gideon took the towel from her hand and wiped his face more thoroughly. “What are you talking about?” he asked, rising. “You want to play jockey in a race? Why ever would you want to do that? And of course, you will not.”
“I want to help you recover some of your fortune.”
“I am sorry, Bree, but you make absolutely no sense.”
Sabrina took from her pocket the folded paper she had found beneath the upended drawer and handed it to him.
Gideon barely needed to read the document she gave him. He had only forged and hidden it last night. He rubbed his freshly-shaved face and considered this unexpected turn of events. “Where did you find this?”
On the floor in your study with everything else you tossed about in your rage last night. Shame on you. But do not worry, I cleaned everything up, so no one else would realize that you gave in to a tantrum. I know you do not usually lose your temper in that unruly way.”
Sabrina paced to the window and back. “I knew, of course, when you left me last night that you were upset about money, but I never dreamed—until I saw this. Then I understood.”
“I see.”
Gideon’s brain and his heart ran a rioting gamut of emotions. At first taken aback then chagrined, he moved through bewilderment, and finally to hope.
He had purchased this woman. She had made it clear to him that money meant everything to her. And now she supposed him penniless and rather than releasing her rage or threatening to find a rich protector, she was offering to help him recover his losses.
It made no sense, but Lord, it made him hope, as he had never dared.
As he slipped into a fresh shirt, Gideon wondered how long Sabrina would remain with him, if he allowed her to continue to believe him destitute.
Ignoring the anguish engendered by the very possibility of losing her, he regarded her levelly. “You saw this and realized I needed funds.”
His wife nodded. “I would like to show you how well I ride, so I will need you to help me dress like a man. Then I will need help walking and talking like a man as well, because it has been a long time since I raced, before even the twins were born.”
“Let us be clear, here. You want me to help you dress, ride, walk and talk like a man?”
Sabrina nodded.
“Now there is a scheme I can sink my teeth into.” Aware he was ignoring any and all possible repercussions; he also knew that if he did not snatch at this opportunity to become closer to his wife, he might never be allowed another. “When shall we begin?”
“This evening after the children are asleep?”
Gideon stepped up to her, took her into his arms and kissed her as if she were his lover in fact. “This evening. I can barely wait.” He gave her a look heavy with promise, before he went downstairs to his study to see what might have gone wrong.
By the time he was finished examining his study, he was not certain what to think. It left him with new questions, when already too many had been left unanswered, not the least of which was the nagging question of whether he could be so foolish as to be falling in love with his wife.
A query with no answer, one to be saved for another day.
For today, he needed to confront Doggett, because several— What had he called them? Oh yes, baubles. Several baubles were missing.
By the time evening arrived, and the children were finally asleep, the phrase I can barely wait had become Gideon’s mantra. He placed on his bed all the clothing Sabrina would need, and she regarded the assortment with a critical eye.
“Drawers?” She held up a pair for a thorough examination. “Why do I need drawers? They will bunch, I think.”
“Because you have nothing with which to fill them.”
“The better for you,” said she.
“Saucy wench. What did you wear under your pantaloons the last time you raced?”
“Nothing.”
“Even better.” He went for her.
She sidestepped his reach. “Gideon, now, stop that. We seek to arrive at a particular destination, do not forget. We are undressing me
to redress me.”
“But there can be nothing wrong with a little side journey, now and again, before we reach our destination, can there?”
“Hmm. A journey to where?”
Her rogue raised a speaking brow. “Heaven.”
Sabrina laughed and danced from his reach once more. Under cover of her dress, she attempted to pull on the pantaloons he had set out for her.
“Oh, no fair. You have to take the dress off first.”
“We will never reach our desired destination, if I go about dressing in that way.”
“Will we not?”
But Sabrina’s opinion held sway. And after she successfully pulled on and fastened his pantaloons, she did remove her dress.
Gideon decided that she filled his breeches out in remarkable ways. Come to think of it he was filling his own out quite well at the moment. His palms itched to touch, his mouth watered to sample. “I must be the luckiest man on earth.”
“Mama, Damon is sick.”
Sabrina turned her back and slipped into her wrapper, tugged off her riding boots, checked to be certain Juliana slept, and followed Rafferty and Gideon up the stairs.
Miss Minchip was holding Damon’s head over a bucket when they arrived.
“Oh, Baby,” Sabrina said. “Did you eat something that upset your stomach?”
He shook his head, his face red. Very red. Sabrina examined his neck and his chest as well.
“Spots,” Miss Minchip said. “T’other one will get it, too, him sleeping in the same bed last night.”
All heads turned to Gideon.
He raised both hands and backed away. “Oh no. I do not do spots, thank you very much. I do not have any now. I will not have any later. End of discussion.” He turned and left the nursery.
Sabrina grinned at the boys, who were grinning back. “If Papa gets the spots, he will be cross as a bear.”
Gideon was waiting for Sabrina when she returned to her bedchamber. “Can we go back to where we were?” he asked, already churlish.
“First, let me check you for spots.”
He crossed his arms before him stubbornly. “I refuse to be checked, and I refuse to have spots.”
Undeniable Rogue (The Rogues Club Book One) Page 18