Undeniable Rogue (The Rogues Club Book One)

by Annette Blair

  “He thinks nothing of the sort. He desperately fears the worst; that he has lost you. And you have given him reason to fear. The way you regarded him, at Lowick’s, as if he were dirt beneath your feet.”

  “No. No, I did not. Not that. ‘Twas I, who felt dirty, filthy, disgraced, and I could not bear to witness his disgust of me. I was mortified that he had observed me with so vile a creature.” All but mounted by that creature, she thought, with inescapable and everlasting regret.

  “Sabrina, he does not think badly of you. He is afraid, bitter, to see us like this, and hurt. Badly hurt. By you, and quite possibly he has been hurt previous to today, if I do not mistake the matter. Have you used him ill?”

  “I have done nothing to hurt him. I have given him...everything.” Sabrina refused to admit that until recently she had given him all but herself. The night before had likely been already too late.

  She shook her head, repeating her silent denial. “Gideon hates me because of Lowick’s accusations. I knew he would. He has taken a disgust of me. My association with such a horrid man is beyond scandalous; I always knew Gideon would perceive it so.”

  “I think you must look into your heart, my dear, and discover the truth there, and then perhaps you should look into your husband’s eyes, and discover the truth there, as well. Learn to trust, Sabrina. Trust is everything,” Hawksworth said. “Stanthorpe is a good man. He bound my wounds as best he could and held me as I lay dying, or so we both thought, making of himself a target on that bloody, deadly battlefield.”

  Hawksworth sighed as he looked into the teeth of hell. “He did not leave me willingly, but only when forced by circumstances to defend the members of our regiment against Boney’s troops.”

  “I do not dispute that Gideon is a good man,” Sabrina said. “I have had daily proof.”

  “He is the best of men. I would not have entrusted you to anyone less worthy. But even I know that you must earn love, and return it, if you wish to keep it.”

  “Fine words from a man who appears to be running away.”

  Hawksworth kissed Sabrina’s brow, lowered his cane to the floor and made for the stairs. “You mistake the matter,” he said, turning. “I no longer have the ability to run.”

  Sabrina scoffed. “That is as blatant a falsehood as my saying that I could not bear to regard your scars. Stephens Hotel, indeed.” Sabrina raised a brow.

  Hawksworth smiled. “You have perfected Stanthorpe’s arrogant brow, I see.”

  “Where will you go?” Sabrina asked, refusing to rise to his bait. “What will you do?”

  “After I have said good-bye to the boys? I have not as yet decided.”

  “Have you at least informed Alexandra that she is not a widow?”

  Hawksworth shook his head. “No.”

  “Then you had better, and soon.”

  Hawksworth regarded her sharply, and returned to her. “Tell me which is more important, that I tell Alex, or that I tell her soon?”

  “Go and see her. Please.”

  “Perhaps, I will,” he said. “We do have a score to settle, her and I. She needs to be taught a lesson, I believe. Perhaps…. Yes. I will strike you a bargain, Sabrina, my love. I will see my wife soon, if you will tell Stanthorpe that you love him.”

  “I do not think I can,” Sabrina whispered. “I am afraid he will not care—”

  Gideon opened his study door. “Hawksworth,” he said. “Do you mind if I have a word with my wife before you steal her away?”

  There stood the man she ached to run toward, Sabrina thought, the man whose enfolding arms had once offered blessed comfort and a place of safety—if only he would open them now.

  “Go,” Hawksworth said. “I will be upstairs with the boys.”

  Sabrina raised her head and crossed the foyer on shaky legs, then she stepped into the study and shut the door behind her. As she and Gideon regarded each other, Sabrina damned near said she loved him, except that he distracted her by handing her the money canister that she had kept hidden in her desk since she moved in.

  “Why were you hiding this from me?” Gideon asked.

  Sabrina bit her lip. “I was not so much hiding it from you as I was hiding it for me.”

  He scoffed. “Always, you talk in circles. It is time for talking straight, Sabrina, for once, please.”

  “I suppose there does come a time to tell the truth,” she muttered, almost to herself, thinking she should come right out and say she loved him.

  “From you, the truth would be a refreshing change.”

  Smarting from the sting of those words, Sabrina raised her chin and changed course. “I used to keep my money hidden, in the event I needed to get away from my husband—my first husband. Once, I did use it to get away from Lowick.”

  “And you hid it from me because?”

  “Brian used to steal it, so I was forced to hide it. Once I was here, I continued to hide it because...I was used to doing so. Knowing it was available gave me a sense of...safety.”

  “And you could n—”

  “Though that was nothing,” she said, stopping him. “It was nothing, I came to realize compared to the sense of security you gave me.”

  Gideon opened his mouth to speak, paused to reflect, and firmed his lips. He paced to the window and looked out for a long moment. “Thank you for telling me.” He took a slip of paper from his desk and handed it to her.

  “What is this?” Sabrina asked, stepping nearer the lamp to read the document.

  “I had the full race purse, eighty-five hundred pounds, deposited into an account in your name this morning. That is a copy of the deposit order. The money is yours.”

  Sabrina sat. “You did this for me?” No one had ever done anything half so generous for her before. But then Gideon had done so much, never previously attempted, including making her love him. She rose and approached him. “After today,” she said, her voice suddenly as small as she felt. “You are especially kind to give this to me.”

  “Kind?” Gideon spat the word, as if she had insulted him. “I am not kind,” he shouted—roared, more like. “Damn it to hell, Sabrina.” He grasped her shoulders. “Listen to me.”

  Her heart began to race and her palms to sweat. And Sabrina simply stood there staring into his beautiful, bright green eyes, aware, so aware that her love for him shone in hers, hoping that was love for her, she saw in his.

  But as if he could not believe the evidence before him, Gideon shook his head imperceptibly and stepped away from her. Then he ran his hand through his already mussed hair. “I love you,” he said in a rush. “I love you in a way I never thought myself capable of loving. I love you so damn much that I am prepared to divorce you, so you can have that former friend of mine, who gave you to me, only to take you away again.”

  Sabrina did not know which of them was more surprised by his words. Chagrin, bashfulness, of all things, seemed to color Gideon’s features. He made to run his hand through his hair, again, but dropped his hands to his sides. “I am sorry. I do not mean to act coercive or bitter. You deserve every chance at happiness with whomever you choose to spend your life.” His voice was rising. “Though I honestly believe that I am the best husband for you, damn it.” He took a breath. “But that is the last I shall say on the matter.”

  He loved her? After everything?

  Gideon gazed out the window, traced the frost on the pane while seeming to look inside himself. “Sabrina. If you or the children ever need anything….” He turned to regard her, his emerald eyes more beautiful than she had ever seen them, so filled with love, Sabrina was like to fall to her knees in thankfulness. “Anything,” he said. “Ever.”

  Gideon, the man she loved, loved her in return. Sabrina could barely take it in.

  But why, when he believed that she gave herself to Lowick? He did not even know the truth of it, that Lowick attempted to take her by force on two occasions and failed both times.

  Could she be so fortunate as to be the recipient of such a love
? Impossible.

  Perhaps he wanted her merely because he could not have her. It was a disheartening thought, but she must know for certain. She must. “There is something you should know about Hawksworth,” she said. “Before we go a step further.”

  “Spare me. I know how much you love him.”

  “You know nothing of the sort,” she snapped, getting his full attention. “Neither, I perceive, do you know that Hawksworth has a wife—though Alexandra yet believes herself a widow and is set to marry another.”

  “I thought—”

  “I know what you thought, but you are wrong. It was never like that between us. Hawksworth was Brian’s half-brother. He was my brother-in-law. He became my best friend. Featured himself my brother.”

  Did she see hope burning in Gideon’s expression? “Hawksworth is still a friend,” she said. “But he is no longer my best friend.”

  “Then you have already been a Duchess?”

  “No, Brian was Hawksworth’s mother’s son, untitled and impoverished.”

  Bitterness dimmed hope in Gideon’s look. “Ah, yes,” he said with disgust. “And you will not be impoverished again.”

  “There is no danger of that. I have eighty-five hundred pounds.”

  “Yes, you do.” Gideon sighed. “But let us not forget my situation.”

  “Your situation has no bearing on this matter, for I want our bargain done.” Sabrina gave him back the document of deposit. “You said that money was mine to do what will make me happy.”

  Gideon nodded. “So, I did.”

  “I sold myself to you, Gideon St. Goddard and now I return your money. This negates my sale, does it not? It frees me?”

  “Yes,” Gideon said, closing his eyes against the pain of losing her, this agony infinitely more piercing than that from the pistol shot. “You are free to go.”

  “Good,” Sabrina said, stepping closer. “If I am free to go, then I am free to stay.”

  Gideon could make no sense of her words. She was so close, he could touch her, but if he touched her now, he would never let her go.

  He fisted his hands. “But I have lost all my money.”

  “You have not.”

  For a minute, Gideon thought she knew he had tricked her.

  “You have the eighty-five hundred pounds,” she said. “Money enough to keep us, if we are thrifty. I am better at economy than horse racing, you know.”

  In Gideon’s heart, joy sought purchase, yet too many questions lingered. “Why did you appear as if you hated me, after I broke into that room? Why did you turn from me, after all was said and done and the runners had taken the villains away? And why, by all that is holy, did you never tell me that horrible man was after you?”

  Sabrina turned away from her husband’s probing gaze. “It was so ugly, what you came in on. Previous to my coming here, people like Lowick, sordid, corrupt, are the kind I was forced to associate with daily. Such as them are so far beneath you that I knew you would take a disgust of me once you learned of my life with them.”

  “Do I look as if I have taken a disgust of you?” Gideon appeased his deep need to touch her by grazing her chin with his thumb. He wanted to haul her into his arms, but he was still afraid that if he did, really did, she would run screaming from the room, and straight into Hawksworth’s embrace.

  “I want our bargain done,” she said again.

  “Sabrina, you give me hope and take it away again. Please, you are killing me. If you must bury your knife, bury it to the hilt, now, with one thrust, and put me out of my misery. Tell me what you want of me.”

  “I want your purchase of me to be negated. I want for you no longer to own me. I must own myself again, so I may be what I want so badly to be.

  “What?” Gideon whispered.

  “Your wife.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you are a gentle man, and the best of Papas. You are good, kind, mine—” Sabrina touched his face. “And I love you.”

  Gideon scanned her expression to see if he could read anything, anything, to deny her words, his hope, but he did not, and he was humbled. “You love me.”

  “I do, but how can you want me, thinking me a whore and a schemer?”

  “It never occurred to me to believe what Lowick said. I know who you are, Sabrina St. Goddard. I know you and I love you. But, Sabrina, tell me he did not hurt you. I have been so worried, but I dared not ask, because I was afraid you would consider the question a judgment on you. It is not.” Gideon cupped her head to pull her near and press his face to hers. “You are so precious to me, I cannot stand the thought that you have been hurt, in any way, and that you must suffer alone, because I am unaware of your pain. Did he hurt you, love?”

  Sabrina was so touched, she pressed her lips to his ear before she could speak. “No, Gideon, not on either of the occasions he tried. I fought him off, though I might not have succeeded this time, had you not intervened. But if….”

  Gideon straightened from their embrace and moved a curl from her eyes. “If he had hurt you, I would share your pain and we could heal together. Did he, love?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I simply cannot comprehend that you would want me still, if he did.”

  “Do you not realize that I have wanted you, any way I could have you, almost from the moment I walked into my kitchen and you threw flour in my face?”

  “Any way you could have me?” Sabrina smiled through her tears. “The way you can have me, my lovable, undeniable rogue, is by your side, and in your bed, for as long as we both shall live.”

  Gideon kissed his wife the way he ought to have done weeks before, with all the love inside him. With his kiss, he told her how much he treasured her, and with hers, she proved the same. Love turned to passion and passion to desire and—

  The world intruded with utter chaos … two excited little boys, and one crying baby, who shattered the moment’s passion, but not the love.

  The love, they deepened.

  Sabrina and Gideon stepped apart, reluctant but smiling.

  Damon and Rafferty whooped and charged Gideon, welcoming Papa home, with kisses, and hugs, and questions, and more hugs, until Sabrina once again sought Gideon’s handkerchief, except that he had to use it on his own eyes first.

  Hawksworth stood in the doorway, a screaming baby in his arms. “Help,” he said.

  Grinning, Gideon took Juliana, and the babe quieted and gave her Papa her best grin.

  Hawksworth chuckled.

  Gideon extended his hand to his friend. “I apologize for thinking—”

  “And I for doubting—” Hawksworth took Gideon’s hand and clasped it firmly.

  Gideon cleared throat. “Welcome back to the land of the living.”

  “Thank you. If not for your care on the battlefield, I might not be here.”

  “I am glad you did not tell me so when I came in the door tonight.”

  The two men shared a smile.

  Hawksworth nodded toward the baby. “Sorry to interrupt. I tried to hold them off as long as I could, but as soon as they knew Papa was home….”

  Rafe slipped his arm about Gideon’s leg and leaned against it. “Papa, Mincemeat went missing, but we found him sleeping in your bed.”

  “With his kittens.” Hawksworth said with a wry grin.

  “Does that really mean he is a girl?” Damon asked.

  Drizzle waddled in, went tail-wagging mad over Gideon and … drizzled, he was so happy.

  Hawksworth laughed as he backed out the door. “As much fun as this has been, I must take my leave and allow you to recover.”

  Everyone followed him into the hall. “Hawksworth,” Gideon said from the base of the stairs. “You will take the children at some point? You got us into this—for which we will remain eternally grateful—but we would very much appreciate a honey-month.”

  “Good God,” his friend said, thunderstruck. “A month?”

  Gideon chuckled as he slipped his arm around Sabrina’s waist, and she s
lipped hers around him, and they started up the stairs.

  Hawksworth remained by the open door to watch them, all five, make their undisciplined way up the stairs, happy, chattering, jumping, holding hands. A family.

  “Can I have a pony ride, Papa?” he heard Damon ask.

  “Lord have mercy,” Sabrina said. “Your Papa has a gunshot wound in his side.”

  “From saving me,” Rafe said. “Thank you Papa.”

  Gideon ruffled Rafe’s hair. “Anytime, Son.”

  “Can we do anything to make you feel better, Papa?”

  “Why, yes, Damon, thank you,” Gideon said. “I would like you and your brother and sister to spend some nice, quiet time in the nursery, so I may take a nap...with Mama.”

  THE END

  Excerpt:

  The Rogues Club, Book Two

  UNFORGETTABLE ROGUE

  by

  Annette Blair

  PROLOGUE

  Hawks Ridge at Devil’s Dyke, St. Albans, England, March 1815

  Bryceson Wakefield stood a breath away from becoming the Fifth Duke of Hawksworth.

  His father gasped. “I failed in life.”

  No man should die, or live, Hawk thought, thinking himself a failure. “No Father,” he said, “Do not believe it.”

  The old man grasped his hand with more strength than Bryce would have thought possible. “What do I leave behind?” he asked.

  ‘Me!’ Bryce wanted to shout. ‘You leave me!’ But he said nothing. His sire voiced no pride in his only child, though neither did he repeat the litany of disappointments. How does one deal with a parent who had not so much as touched one’s hand for all of a lifetime and now clasped it to his heart?

  One attempts, Bryce decided, to invoke one last time the smallest spark of kinship. “You leave me behind, Father.”

  Fervor brightened his sire’s intense gaze. “You, Bryce, you will make me proud?”

  God knew he had tried. “I like to think I will.”

  Hawk’s hope for approval waned with the weakening of the old man’s grip. “I will. Of course I will. Tell me what I must—”

  “Go fight Bonaparte!” Obsession flared in the old man’s eyes for one bright moment. “Bring honor to my name. I would die...proud.”