His to Hold (Regency Scoundrels Book 1) (27 page)

“Well, I am happy to say that you can’t have it back,” Mallory shot back, not intimidated in the slightest.

She smiled, as she imagined the ear-to-ear grin that was most likely splitting across Mallory’s gorgeous face.

Her father was beside himself! “Now see here you, young scoundrel! I shall have it back from you, one way, or another.”

“You see, he thinks you are a scoundrel, too,” she whispered, trying not to giggle.

“I do not think that you wish to go any further, sir,” Mallory’s voice turned deadly, and if her father had any brains left in his fat head, he would take the hint and run the other way.

“I do not care for your impertinent tone, young man.”

She grimaced, and turned back around. Now, she knew that her father didn’t have any brains left in his fat head.

“Well, I do not care what you think,” Mallory returned, “but if I were you, I would be taking my leave right about now.”

“Do not presume to tell me what to do, St. Martin.”

“When you are in England, I shall presume to do whatever I wish. I’m sorry to tell you this, Woodward, but here in England, I hold all of the cards. If you push any further, I will endeavor to have certain people make life a living hell for you. The contacts you possess as the youngest son of a dead viscount, hold no sway in my circles, I’m afraid. And unlike my dear Papa, I hold quite a few influential friends, who would delight in making your life hell, as a favour to me. So toddle off, old man, and go back to your whores.”

“You still do not realize when you are speaking to your betters, boy.”

“I have grown weary of you. Unless you are an addle-brained buffoon, you will already know that I am a duke here in good old merry England. Just in case you were not aware, and for the life of me, I don’t know how you could be ignorant to it, seeing as you were born to a British viscount, a duke holds a great amount of sway in the British Empire.”

Elizabeth watched the lively exchange with hope in her heart. Unlike most people, Mallory could hold his own against her father, both in wits, and in strength. To finish it off, her father outdid himself, when he took a swing at Mallory.

Mallory, of course, easily blocked the punch, and then returned it in kind. Her father was knocked clear off his feet.

“That will be fifty pounds, Wooten,” one of Mallory’s friends said to the other, as the one named Wooten let out a prolonged groan.

She walked over to him, and bent down, so only he could hear her. “Oh, Papa, why couldn’t you leave well enough alone?”

His eyes gorged out of his head. “You…Bess…my daughter…well, I…you…I…well, well, I’ll be tarred and feathered. I guess you are your father’s child, after all,” he sputtered, as she stood up, and started to walk away. “Bess, wait, don’t go, you come back here! Wait! Please, don’t go!”

By the time someone had helped him to his feet, Elizabeth was already walking away from the scene, she could hear her cousin and Ron calling to her, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to fade away somewhere, and if she couldn’t be with Mallory, she wanted to be alone.

But she couldn’t escape Mallory that easily.

“Elizabeth, stop right this instant,” Mallory shouted, as he caught up with her. “You look ridiculous in that disguise, you know. Did Mary get to see you wearing it?” She slowly turned around, smiled sheepishly, and nodded in answer to his query. “If you must know, before you revealed yourself to me, I recognized you as soon as you let out that rather womanly sigh, to be sure, you make an awfully feminine dandy. I have told you in the past that you can never escape me. Now, do you believe me, my love?”

“Why would you want me now after I turned you away so cruelly?” she asked softly, trying to avert his penetrating gaze that commanded her as if he wove a spell on her.

He laughed, and stepped closer to her. “In case you blacked out for a few moments back there, I just won you in a game of rather unconventional whist.”

“And you did so with my blessing. But I also know that you aren’t the type of man to hold me to that bargain. You do not need me anymore, Mallory. As you can see, my father is alive and well, and I fear that he shall live for another good twenty years, if not more. Of course, by the look of astonishment, and then, pride on his face, I fear he will leave me all of his money when he dies, and we shall have a hard time keeping him away while he lives.”

“Maybe so, Elizabeth. But none of it matters to me anymore. You are correct in your assumption. I do not need that bastard’s money now, and I pray that I shall never see him again. But if I do not have you, nothing else matters. To have you by my side, I would brave any horrors, including having that sorry excuse for a man as my father-in-law.”

She licked her lips, and walked toward him. “Let me just clarify a few things. First of all, I shall not marry you, unless you agree that I am my own independent woman.”

“Agreed.” He kept his eyes trained on her, almost as if he were afraid that she was about to disappear into thin air.

“And you must agree to never leave me behind, no matter what. I know you will have difficulty with this, so I must have your solemn vow, Mallory.”

“Not even if I want to go to sea?”

“Not even if you want to go to sea. I am willing to brave unimaginable dangers, as long as I am by your side, Mallory. For this must be a partnership, an equal partnership.”

His eyes turned tumultuous. “I…” He looked tempted to give her a fight for it, but with a sigh, his eyes admitted defeat. “I give you my solemn vow. I will not leave you behind, if you want to accompany me. I shall endeavor to always hold you close, both figuratively and literally. I think we have been partners since our very first meeting, Elizabeth, my dearest.” He smiled at her, and she could feel her heart melting.

Mary had been right. She was about to walk down the path that she had always been destined for.

“Your father was right about one thing,” he mused thoughtfully.

“He was?” she asked, surprised.

“Aye,” he said, giving her a wicked smile. “He said I was a scoundrel, and I am…but I am your scoundrel, Miss Elizabeth.”

“In that case, Mallory St. Martin, I’ll be yours to have, and to hold,” she whispered her last profession, and then fell happily into his arms.

Their kiss was filled with insatiable hunger, and undeniable promise, and she knew that for once and for all, she had found a place to call home.

She had found Mallory St. Martin, her heart, her soul—her fairy prince.

The End

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