The Unlikely Lady

by Valerie Bowman

  He squeezed her hand. “Why’s that?”

  “Because I’m desperately in love with you, Upton. I’m told that when one is desperately in love, one marries, regardless of the title one may acquire in so doing.”

  “That is true!” Lucy called.

  “You’re not supposed to be listening, Lucy,” Jane called back.

  “Oh, quite right. I’m sorry. Carry on.”

  Garrett swallowed the lump in his throat. He searched Jane’s face. This was a great deal to absorb, but he had no doubts. There was only one problem. “As much as I’d like to say yes, we don’t have a license.”

  Jane nodded. “Yes, we do. Derek procured one for us last night. It’s extremely convenient to know a duke.”

  Garrett turned toward Claringdon. “You got us a license?”

  “Indeed,” came Claringdon’s reply. “Deuced awkward to wake the archbishop in the middle of the night, but he appreciated the coin I gave him. You owe me a drink the next time I see you at the club. Several drinks.”

  Jane smiled a satisfied smile. “See, there? You have no more excuses.”

  The door to the church opened then and Isabella Langford, wearing all black, came strolling down the center aisle.

  She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her fingers along the opposite arm. “Well, well, well. Isn’t this a pretty sight?”

  Garrett and Jane turned to face her.

  “Isabella?” Garrett’s voice was grim.

  “Boris has been following you, Garrett. He told me I might find you here this morning,” Isabella replied.

  “Please leave,” Garrett demanded, pointing toward the doors.

  “I don’t think so, my dear. I have something quite important to say.”

  “Go ahead and say it,” Jane interjected, lifting her chin. “Then get out.”

  Isabella’s eyebrows rose. “Aren’t you a brave one, Miss Lowndes?”

  Jane straightened her spine. “I told you once, I’m not one to back down from a fight.”

  Isabella shrugged one shoulder. “Regardless, I doubt very much you’ll like what I have to say.”

  Garrett made a move toward the woman but Jane held his arm. “Let her speak.”

  Isabella raised her nose in the air. “I’m here before God and man to declare that the groom has impregnated me.”

  A shocked gasp went through the church. The vicar turned a white that matched his robes.

  “That’s not true!” Garrett snapped.

  “Yes it is. I know it’s inconvenient given your marriage plans, darling, but the church cannot possibly marry you, knowing this,” Isabella purred.

  Jane’s hands were clenched into fists at her sides. “Isabella, get out of here. You’re a liar and we all know it. You don’t love Garrett and he doesn’t love you. Stop this madness.”

  Isabella laughed again, a short bark this time. “I refuse to allow the father of my baby not to own up to his responsibilities.”

  “I will own up to them!”

  Everyone’s head swiveled to the left. Boris came marching in. Isabella’s face was a study in shock. “Boris, no!”

  “Yes,” Boris replied. “I’ve asked you to marry me half a dozen times and you’ve refused. But I won’t allow you to ruin another man’s life over a mistake we made together.”

  “Shut up, you fool. You don’t know what you are saying.” Isabella’s voice was high and strained. Her face was quickly turning a mottled shade of red.

  “I know exactly what I’m saying and it’s high time I spoke up.” Boris faced Garrett and Jane. “I’m sorry for what I’ve done, Mr. Upton. Isabella told me she saw the two of you in the upstairs drawing room the night of the masquerade. She asked me to cut the strap on Miss Lowndes’s saddle.”

  Jane shook her head. “I knew it.”

  Boris nodded guiltily but kept talking. “She also overheard you planning to meet the night of the wedding. She told me to follow you to the wine cellar, Mr. Upton, and to ensure you didn’t make it back to your room.”

  Garrett glared at Isabella.

  “Shut up, you imbecile!” Isabella hissed.

  Boris turned back toward Isabella. “I’m sorry to have done those things. I did them because I loved you, and I thought you loved me. But now I must make things right.” He walked up to Garrett and handed him something.

  Garrett clutched the gold pocket watch in his fist.

  “I only took it so you’d think one of the Morelands’ servants had done it,” Boris said. “I’m sorry.”

  The vicar stepped forward. “Are you certain, young man? You swear you are the father of this woman’s unborn baby?”

  “Yes, Reverend. I must confess and I have no doubts.”

  Isabella tore at her hair and ran shrieking from the church. Boris quickly followed her.

  “Best of luck with that one,” Lucy called after him.

  The vicar cleared his throat and nodded toward Garrett. “Well, then, now that that unpleasant business is settled. Do you wish to proceed?”

  “Just one more moment, Reverend.” Garrett turned back to Jane.

  “Jane,” Garrett whispered, this time swallowing the even larger lump in his throat. She’d done all this for him, and she loved him. “Are you sure? Are you certain this is what you want?”

  She leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “You were right about me, Garrett. I’ve been hiding behind books all my life. It’s high time I became brave enough to take a chance in the real world, in a real story, my own story. I want my happy ending to be with you.”

  Garrett cupped her cheeks and kissed her. The small crowd behind them cheered. “By all means, my love, let’s get married.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  Garrett carried her over the threshold of his town house. It was a silly, sentimental thing to do, and Jane adored it. She’d worn her mother’s wedding gown, which had made her mother’s eyes moist with tears, but Jane was in a hurry to get the uncomfortable thing off … for more than one reason.

  They’d spent the remainder of the morning and all the afternoon celebrating with their friends at Derek’s town house, but now they were home. Alone.

  She’d been looking forward to this all day. The butterflies had winged in her middle since she’d first seen Garrett at the church. When he set her down in the marble foyer of his home and tenderly kissed her, her traitorous legs began shaking again.

  “I sent a note. The servants have all been dismissed for the evening,” he whispered in her ear.

  “That’s … nice.” Her voice trembled. Apparently the servants had taken the dogs with them.

  Garrett rubbed his thumb along her cheekbone and tipped up her chin. “Don’t be nervous, Jane.”

  “I don’t want to be. Truly, I don’t.”

  He nuzzled her ear, and Jane closed her eyes.

  “Come upstairs with me,” he murmured.

  “Yes,” she breathed. Oh, yes. How she wanted to make love to this man.

  He led her by the hand to his bedchamber. The room was sparse and masculine and very Upton. Two candles in a silver brace flickered atop the mantelpiece, casting the room in a shadowy glow. A large bed against the back wall was covered in silken, emerald sheets. A dark cherrywood wardrobe, a matching writing desk, a portrait of a black-and-white spaniel on the wall.

  “That’s not Dogberry or Verges, is it?” Jane asked.

  “No, that’s Henry. I had him when I was a boy. I miss him still.”

  An unexpected rush of tears stung the backs of Jane’s eyes. This was why she loved him. On the outside he was witty and carefree, but on the inside he cared … deeply, about everyone and everything in his world.

  Jane kicked off her white satin slippers and rolled off both stockings before whirling around. “Unbutton me.”

  He chuckled. “Not the most romantic way to begin.”

  “No, it’s not that,” she answered with a laugh. “This gown is terribly uncomfortable.”

  “I’m hap
py to comply,” he said softly, his lips moving to the back of her neck. Jane felt the tug of his fingers against the long row of buttons along her back, but all she could concentrate on was his mouth on the soft spot beneath her ear. She tilted her head to the side.

  He turned her slowly. The bodice gaped away. She held it to her with both hands.

  “You’re unbuttoned, my lady.”

  Nerves took over then. “Th—thank you.”

  Gently cupping her shoulders, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Would you like to keep your spectacles?”

  Jane looked up into his face and realized he was teasing her. “It would make things easier to see. What if I miss something important fumbling around blind as a mole?”

  “I won’t let that happen,” he breathed, slowly pulling her spectacles over each ear. He pulled them away from her face and led her to the bed, where he placed them on the table next to the huge mattress.

  Jane clutched at the front of her gown.

  “Wouldn’t you like to remove it entirely?” he asked, turning back to face her.

  “Yes.” She nodded. She let go and the gown pooled around her waist in waves of white satin. She pushed it over her hips and it fell to the carpet in a whoosh of fabric.

  Her stays remained and her chemise beneath that. She took a shaky breath. The voices in her head returned to haunt her. Would Garrett think she was too plump? Not beautiful enough?

  “You are gorgeous,” he whispered, pulling her into his arms and kissing the column of her throat. Jane’s head fell back, the hint of a smile on her lips. Well, it certainly bolstered her confidence to be told she was gorgeous.

  “Would you like me to help you with your stays?” he asked.

  “They’re not easy,” she warned.

  “I remember.”

  A flash of heat spiked through Jane’s body. “Do you have a knife in your bedside drawer?”

  “No, but we should remedy that as soon as possible.”

  That caused another rush of heat, this time between her legs. “Are you going to tie me up?” she asked, another shadow of a smile on her lips.

  “Do you want me to?”

  “I did enjoy it. Perhaps I’ll tie you up next time.”

  “That can be arranged.” His voice was positively devilish.

  He’d been busily pulling the ties of her stays loose, one by one, but stopped and turned her to face him. “Jane, do you know what happens between a man and a woman in bed?”

  Jane fought her blush. “Yes. I told you. I am extremely well read. And, er, Lucy mentioned a thing or two.”

  His face relaxed. “Please do not tell me a word Lucy said.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t.”

  He rubbed Jane’s shoulder. “All I ask is that you trust me.”

  A shiver chased through her. “In case you use a knife or tie me up?”

  “Nothing like that.” He kissed her tenderly again. “Tonight I want to make you touch the clouds.”

  Jane’s shivering increased. “It sounds positively delightful.”

  He finished unlacing her stays, and Jane faced him wearing only her chemise. “I refuse to remove another piece of clothing until you do, sir.”

  He grinned wickedly. “With pleasure.”

  Jane climbed onto the massive bed and propped herself against the pillows. “I’m going to need my spectacles for this.” She rummaged on the side table to locate them.

  Garrett began by slowly untying his snowy white cravat. His eyes didn’t move from hers, and he didn’t say a word. He tugged the bow at his neck and unwrapped the material from his throat. He pulled it away and tossed it on the foot of the bed. Then he undid his shirtsleeves, removing the links of his cuffs one by one and setting them on the bedside table.

  Jane watched in fascination, her tongue darting to wet her lips.

  Next, Garrett tugged his shirttails from his breeches and used both hands to pull the white linen shirt over his head in a crisscross motion. He crumpled the fabric into a ball and tossed it onto the foot of the bed as well.

  He stood before Jane, naked from the waist up. The broad expanse of his chest mesmerized her. She let her gaze play over it, memorizing every detail. She winced at the scar from the bullet that had nearly taken his life, but the imperfection did nothing to detract from his pure, male beauty. Her fingers ached to touch him.

  He took a seat on the edge of the bed and removed first one dark boot and then the other. By the time he was done, his tight breeches were all that remained.

  “I believe we’re even,” he said, sliding toward her on his hands and knees.

  Jane panicked. “Usually when I’m up this late, it’s be—because I’m reading. Then I find I’m unusually tired in the morning.” It was a ridiculous thing to say, but nerves had quite got the best of her.

  “You know what I think?” he asked, hovering over her.

  “Wh—what?” she managed.

  “You should be tired from being made love to all night. Not from reading.”

  Jane’s throat went dry. All she could do was stare at the wide expanse of chest above her. Then he pulled her into his arms. His hands pushed into her hair and savagely tore out the pins. She didn’t even feel the slight pain.

  His mouth was on hers, mastering her. His groin pushed against her most intimate spot. He was hot and hard and heavy, reaching for her. She pressed her lips together and looked up at him. “I want to see all of you.”

  His smile was downright sinful. He rolled onto his back, undid the buttons under the fall of his breeches, and used both hands to pull them over his hips. The garment was gone in one quick movement, tossed to the end of the bed.

  Jane’s gaze scoured him. He lay with his hands crossed under his head, entirely nude. “Look all you like,” he said in a teasing voice Jane found irresistible.

  So look, she did.

  The man was stunning. His broad shoulders and wide muscled chest tapered down into the flat plane of his abdomen and then …

  His member looked enormous. Far too big to … fit, but she’d worry about that later. For now, she was preoccupied staring at her husband’s unbearably handsome body. Her husband. His legs were long and muscled. The was another scar at the top of his right leg. Amazing that he walked without a limp. She wanted to touch it. To kiss it. Her brave, strong Garrett. Her gaze trailed off at his ankles and his feet. He even had beautiful feet.

  Levering up on one elbow, he pulled her spectacles from her face and placed them back on the table.

  She sighed. “I suppose you’re going to want to see me now.”

  He snorted. “God, Jane. You make me laugh. I love that about you.”

  Jane shrugged. “Mama says gentlemen are rarely interested in ladies who are humorous.”

  “With all due respect, your mother is wrong.”

  “That’s what I said.” Jane pushed herself to her knees. “So is that a yes? You do want to see me naked?”

  He grinned and quirked a brow. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

  With shaking hands, she gathered her chemise in both fists near her knees and slowly pulled it up.

  Garrett’s eyes turned a mossy green.

  She pulled the garment over her head and tossed it aside, shivering as the cool air found her naked flesh.

  He moved up to sit beside her, his eyes focused on her breasts. “Jane, you are … magnificent.”

  Magnificent? She closed her eyes and smiled to herself. That was a promising start.

  He leaned over her and followed her down. His mouth finding hers, his sleek, warm tongue sliding against hers.

  “Can I touch you, Garrett?”

  “All you like,” he whispered into her hair.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck first, sliding her fingers through the dark curls. Then she skimmed along the broad column of his neck and across his muscled shoulders. His skin was bundled silk beneath her fingertips. She trailed her hands down his chest and pride swelled in her heart as his muscles
jumped in response to her touch. He closed his eyes and Jane stroked his rough cheek. She ran her thumb along the firm line of his jaw.

  “Stopping there?” His voice sounded strained.

  Jane kissed his chest. She reveled in the feel of his hot skin beneath her lips. He smelled like soap and masculinity. “You want me to go lower?” she asked, the hint of a smile in her voice.

  “If you insist,” he replied in a mock-resigned voice.

  With pleasure, Jane resumed her exploration. She pushed her hand along the hard outline of the six muscles that stood out along his abdomen. Then she let her hand trail lower, and lower still, until she wrapped her fist around him.

  Garrett groaned.

  Instinctively, she slid her hand up and down. He groaned again. His forehead bunched into a look resembling pain. He pulled her hand away. “You are too good at that,” he said in a shaky voice that made Jane’s insides melt. “Let me touch you first.”

  She trembled but lay back against the pillow and allowed him to scan her from top to toe.

  “I was wrong,” he murmured, his tongue flicking against her nipple. Jane gasped. “You are beyond magnificent. You’re perfect.”

  His other hand didn’t remain still. It cupped her opposite breast and played with the pink crest. Jane pushed her fingers through his hair, holding his mouth to her aching breast. She arched her back to allow him to draw the swollen bud deeper into his torturous mouth. She moaned.

  His hand moved lower, skimming the outside of her waist, playing along the rise of her hips, and finally, sweeping between her thighs to find the place she desperately wanted him to.

  He stroked between her cleft and parted the springy hairs there. He stroked again, once, twice, before settling in the exact perfect spot. The spot that made her entire body tremble.

  He lowered himself between her legs. His head moving down until his mouth was at her navel. “Jane,” he whispered against the soft skin of her belly.

  “Yes,” she managed, but she could hardly think with his finger doing magical things to her, let alone speak.

  “You’re really going to enjoy this next bit.”

  She sucked in her breath. “I am?”

  “Yes. A lot.”