Hell of a Lady

by Anders, Annabelle

  She’d been through too much this past year. More than any lady, more than any person, ought ever to have to endure.

  Dev had admitted proudly that he’d lie, steal, or even kill for his duchess.

  Justin intended to do even worse.

  Taking a deep breath, he burst through the doors at White’s and marched over to the betting book. The atmosphere was subdued this morning, and the gentlemen present appeared downtrodden. Likely mourning the death of Lord Kensington.

  Which was no loss at all.

  “The wager has been won!” he calmly informed the employee who kept watch, just loud enough so as to be easily overheard. “And proof can be met with testimony from a Mr. Bradley, the local magistrate.”

  “By whom?” One of the lords seated near the betting book swiveled his head around from his hand of cards to see who dared to make such a claim.

  “By me.”

  Laughter met his statement. “Weren’t you a vicar up until a few weeks ago?” A few of the gentlemen had risen from their seats, however, and approached him curiously.

  “Indeed,” Justin said proudly. “But now I am Carlisle. And I expect to collect in a timely manner.”

  “You’ve got to be jesting.” Another familiar-looking gentleman began flipping through the pages of signatures and wagers in the smaller leather book.

  “My wager is on the last page,” Justin pointed out. “Likely the last one made.”

  “And mine a few pages before that.” Justin had not seen his cousin enter. But of course. Justin nearly burst out laughing. His cousin knew him all too well.

  “How do we know he isn’t lying?” the card player asked. “The debt requires proof.”

  “Witness testimony from a local magistrate ought to be sufficient. I myself would testify but as one who stands to benefit, humbly defer to Mr. Bradley’s statements.” This from Dev.

  “Send for this Mr. Bradley!” someone yelled out and a few of the younger bucks donned hats and made for the door. “And someone pour Lord Carlisle a drink!”

  Cheers and groans of disappointment rang through the large parlor as glasses clinked and toasts were made. Likely, they had all anticipated having to wait until the next Season for any outcome.

  A few studious-looking gentlemen sat down with pencils and began tallying the totals. Soon enough, they’d discover the bet Justin had placed in the wee hours of the morning.

  “To love.” Dev lifted his glass. Laughter rang out, but Justin raised his own tumbler along with Mr. Nottingham, Lord Blakely, and a few others nearby. Before he could echo his cousin’s toast, murmurs went up around him, and the clinking of glasses echoed off the walls.

  “To love,” Justin agreed before sending the spirits burning down his gullet.

  Love.

  His heart raced at the thought. From here, he would go to Prescott House, clean up, and then return to Mrs. Mossant’s home to make his official offer.

  He’d taken a risk. He’d exposed her to ridicule and dishonored her immeasurably.

  He hoped that was enough.

  “Where is he?” Rhoda peered out her window to the street below for the ten thousandth time that afternoon. She’d long since bathed, donned one of her favorite gowns, and had Lucy fix her hair into an attractive style.

  Three times.

  At first, it had seemed too austere, pulled tightly at her nape. The second time, Lucy had added too many curls. Rhoda had insisted she brush it out and now it was casually piled atop her head with a few loose curls falling to her shoulders.

  Likely, the curls would straighten by the time he arrived.

  Rhoda wrung her hands in front of her.

  The sun was already setting. She wished Prescott was still here. Then she could inquire as to whether he was certain Justin had said he’d be, in fact, returning today and not some other day later this week.

  Where was he?

  She turned away from the window to stare at herself in the mirror again.

  If he didn’t come, she would be devastated. Her heart would be broken. Yes, all of that.

  But she would go on living. She was no longer afraid of the woman that she was.

  A smile crept across her lips as she stared at her own image. He would return though. They would marry.

  She would thrive.

  “Lord Carlisle is here to see you.” Her mother had peered inside the door without knocking. “Do you wish to make him wait?”

  Of course, her mother would ask her that.

  “He’s waited long enough, I think.” She pinched her cheeks and then inspected her hair once again. “I shall be right down.”

  The door had been left open, allowing Rhoda to stare at him unobserved before entering.

  He was pacing the floor, dressed differently than he had been earlier in the day. Occasionally, he ran a hand through his thick blond hair.

  And he was fidgeting with something in his hands.

  At the sight of his rugged profile, she licked her lips.

  “Justin.”

  He didn’t turn to look at her right away but tipped his head and stared down at his hands first.

  When he did deign to look her way, his expression drew a smile from her. So intense, this man. So sincere and filled with character.

  “I must warn you,” he finally said. “If you refuse to marry me this time, your reputation will remain in tatters.”

  She ought to be concerned at such words, but her heart lifted instead.

  “Tatters, you say? And why is that, my lord?” She took a few steps forward. The room glowed a golden hue as the sun breathed its last glow before dusk.

  “I’m afraid you’ve been thoroughly compromised at last, and all of London is privy to such information. In fact, the magistrate’s account is likely to appear in the Gazette tomorrow.” He strode across the room and lifted both her hands to his lips. “Along with the announcement of our pending wedding. If you’ll have me, that is.”

  And then he dropped to one knee.

  Nothing in the world had prepared her for the feelings she would experience as she watched Justin White kneel before her, grasping her hands, head tilted back so that he might allow nothing but love to flow from that blue gaze of his. “Marry me, Rhoda. Put me out of my misery. Make me the happiest of men. I beg of you.”

  This was the proposal she’d dreamed of. But even more importantly, this was the man of her dreams.

  A man filled with goodness, character, and honesty. A man she could trust her life with, their future children’s security, health, and well-being.

  A man she loved with all her heart.

  “I won the bet.” He grimaced. “It was the only thing I could think to do that would convince you of my worth.”

  She dropped down to the floor before him. “You sacrificed your honor for me.” She’d suspected as much but to hear him declare it took her breath away. “For us.”

  He nodded. “I love you. Now, are you going to put me out of my misery with some sort of answer?”

  “I love you, Justin. I would have married you regardless. You didn’t need to, you know.” But she’d hold onto the fact that he had until her dying day. For she knew what his honor meant to him.

  And then she was in his arms, his mouth on hers. “You are such a gift. My prize. My love. I refuse to wait for banns to be read. I’ll obtain a special license. I hear that’s a benefit of holding a title.” His hands were in her hair. They’d both been on their knees but in a matter of seconds lay on the rug together.

  “Oh, Justin.” She pressed her body against his. She wanted to cry. “I believe my mother is just outside the door.”

  He froze, and she felt him take in a deep breath. “Of course.”

  And then she couldn’t keep herself from laughing. “Oh, my love. Ah, my love.” She buried her face in the crisp folds of his cravat. “This is killing me.”

  And then he was laughing, too.

  “It is my penance.” He kissed the top of her head. “She is in the f
oyer? You are certain?” One hand was inching the hem of her skirt higher. Rhoda shifted so he could slide his hand beneath it.

  “She told me she would join us shortly.”

  Rhoda’s hand drifted down the front of his shirt, and then lower, locating the bulge in his breeches. The very large bulge.

  “How shortly?” His hand grazed the tops of her thighs, just above her garters. All the while, he trailed hot kisses across her shoulders, her throat.

  Logical thought fled. His mouth igniting an inferno of need…

  “Do we have some news in here?” Of course, her mother’s voice.

  Cold air hit her as Justin began crawling around on the floor. “Absolutely, but my fiancée has dropped the ring I presented to her. Oh, here it is.”

  And sitting on his heels, Justin was grinning like a fool, holding out the most gorgeous piece of jewelry she’d ever seen. Twisted white gold, dozens of tiny rubies encircling a dazzling diamond, much like a flower. He tilted his head and grimaced. “Closest thing I could find to a rhododendron.”

  She threw herself into his arms again. Oh dear, God. Thank you for this man!

  “Looks as though you’ve located it.” Her mother stood looking down at them both. “For a moment, I was concerned that you were attempting to win the wager again.”

  “Mother!” Rhoda stared at her mother in disapproval. Who was this woman and what had happened to the mother she’d grown up with?

  “Ah, no.” Justin pushed himself to his feet and then assisted her off the floor as well. “That business can well be considered settled and far behind us.”

  Her mother laughed. “I doubt the highest wager ever to be won in the history of White’s will soon be forgotten. It’s interesting, however. A small scandal will attach itself to a woman for life, ruining her. An extravagant, outrageous scandal, however, has lifted her to infamy. You’d be surprised at the pile of invitations we’ve received this afternoon.”

  “Really?” Rhoda did not relinquish Justin’s hand now that she was standing. Surprisingly, she hadn’t considered how all of this would affect her social standing. She ought to have, for Coleus and Holly’s sake. All that had mattered was that she not swing from the gallows, and that once allowed to live, she be allowed to do so with the man beside her.

  Justin turned and took both of her hands. “Will you come with me for a drive?”

  He looked so earnest. She’d do anything he asked her at that moment. “Of course, let me fetch my bonnet.” Even the thought of being without him for a few minutes squeezed her heart. “Mother will keep you company until I return.”

  And then she dashed upstairs, donned her prettiest hat, and descended the stairs again as quickly as possible. All the while, the weight of the ring on her finger assuring her she wasn’t dreaming.

  “I’m ready.” She sounded slightly breathless when she reappeared at the door.

  Her mother fussed with the ribbon on her bonnet, and then sent them out the door with a happy sigh.

  “I cannot count how many times you and I have been interrupted.” Justin assisted her into a carriage. She’d expected a curricle, or something open aired for the drive but appreciated the privacy afforded them in the coach.

  She wondered if her mother knew.

  Justin joined her on the front facing bench and dropped one arm behind her. “Now. I have another question for you.”

  He looked smug, much like a cat who’d gotten his canary. She rather liked this expression on his handsome face.

  “And once you’ve asked it, I’ll give you an answer.” She wouldn’t cease to be cheeky, simply because she was to marry.

  They gazed into one another’s eyes like lovesick fools for nearly a full minute.

  Then he reached into his coat pocket. “I have a special license on my person. Are you inclined to a grand wedding, with all your relatives and friends? Or will you multiply my joy today? The driver is taking us to a small church not far from here right now. And at that church, a friend of mine, another vicar, is willing to perform the ceremony.”

  Was he asking?

  “Oh, yes. Oh yes!” She was ready to begin their lives together now. “And where will we go after?” Surely not Prescott House, where she assumed he’d been staying.

  “That’s a surprise.”

  It didn’t matter where they went together afterward. All that mattered was that they would go together. No shadows lingering over their heads. Just the anticipation of a long life together filled with joy and love. And perhaps a few children.

  “I can’t believe it.” It all dawned on her. She’d hoped and not been disappointed. “Everything has worked out after all.”

  This man. This man she would spend the rest of her life loving leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers. “You are no longer a cynic, then?”

  This close, she could see tiny lines forming at the edges of his eyes. She also noticed silver flecks hidden in those glorious blue irises.

  Was she? A cynic anymore? “I think that would be impossible now. I didn’t believe dreams could come true but now…” She shook her head in disbelief. “I do.”

  “I’m glad.” His voice came out gravelly sounding. He cared so much that she believed in dreams.

  “Even more importantly. I believe in you.”

  Ah, he swallowed hard upon hearing those words.

  “I love you, Rhododendron.” She loved that he called her that. It felt symbolic somehow. As though he loved all of her. Even her ridiculous name.

  “I love you, Justin.”

  “My Rhododendron.” His lips found hers. “Finally, mine.”

  EPILOGUE

  Wednesday Afternoon at the Park

  The ducks would never forgive them.

  Conventional wisdom would dictate one leave very youthful offspring and pets at home, but the four women, dubbed long ago by their husbands to be devilish debutantes, preferred to bring those they loved out into the world. Along with their nurses, of course.

  The small dogs were managed by the older children—older meaning nearing the age of five.

  Ah, because, yes, Peaches had procreated as well, having given birth to a litter of four miniature versions of herself, ranging from a solid red to the blackest of them all, who sported only a few red spots and who was also the runt.

  The Countesses of Blakely, Carlisle, and Kensington had each taken one into their home, leaving the fourth one to go to the Duchess of Prescott. And of course, the Duchess allowed Peaches to visit with her other offspring as often as possible.

  As the rather ungainly party descended on the calming shores of the Serpentine, they drew more than their fair share of attention.

  Of course, none dared censure them for their behavior. That sort of business was reserved for the nobodies and the upstarts. This collection of titled ladies and gentlemen held some of the highest titles in London. They were not only tolerated but fawned over—children and dogs included.

  In fact, a few daring members of the ton even deigned to bring their own children along.

  The park’s custodians no doubt didn’t appreciate the additional traffic on Wednesdays, but upon receiving a rather large anonymous donation, no one could complain.

  The tallest of the fashionably dressed ladies opened a bag of bread, luring the more alert ducks to waddle out of the water in their direction. A few of the web-footed creatures eyed the dogs warily. Other, more experienced birds had realized their quacks could be as fierce as the short four-legged creatures’ barks.

  And their bills, even more so.

  “I absolutely love this design, Cecily.” Rhoda ignored the ducks to more closely examine the embroidery on the avocado green muslin gown that contrasted so vividly with her friend’s hair. Although a countess, Cecily hadn’t given up designing her own gowns. And Madam Chantal had become even more popular by implementing many of the young Countess’s ideas.

  “It’s one of Stephen’s favorites.” And then she blushed. How was it possible her fri
end might blush when referring to her husband of five years? And then Rhoda knew.

  “You are increasing again?” After giving birth to their son Finn, Cecily and the earl had failed to produce any more little Nottinghams. Although more than content with her family, her home, and life in general, Cecily had been unable to hide the growing disappointment it had caused from her friends.

  A joyful light glowed behind her gaze as she placed one hand over her abdomen.

  “How did we miss it?” Emily lowered her spectacles and examined Cecily’s midsection. “Good heavens! How have you hidden it from us?”

  Cecily laughed. “I didn’t want to say anything until I was very certain.”

  Sophia covered her mouth with her hand, as though keeping a secret at bay.

  “Not you, too?” Rhoda felt like giggling.

  Sophia nodded. “Dev says he truly doesn’t mind having only daughters, but I’d be so happy to have a son. A little boy just like him.”

  “He’d be spoiled to high heavens by Harriette and Little Lorrie.” Although the girls were only two and four, Rhoda had no doubt as to the accuracy of this prediction.

  “I’ll bring Alistair and Creighton over if you’d like. They could show him how to be a man.” Emily’s voice carried no small amount of exasperation.

  Emily’s twins were three, and already as incorrigible as their parents.

  Rhoda turned her head toward the grass, where all of the children played together, and smiled. Three children stood out to her more than the others, with their golden-blond hair and exceptional good looks. They all resembled their father, of course. And thank goodness they’d inherited his kindly disposition. Eleanor, nearly four, proudly held tight to Bruno’s leading string; Sebastian, two and a half, was studying something in the grass; and the baby, Daniel, waddled unsteadily beside one of the nursemaids who’d come along on this outing.

  She never could have hoped to experience such joy.

  And then, quite out of nowhere, her Sebastian lifted what appeared to be a long ground worm into the air and held it obnoxiously close to Eleanor’s face.

  She promptly dropped the leading string, sending Bruno into a desperate flight in the direction of the ducks.