How to Marry a Rogue (21 page)

At least, he used to.

“If you desire a night of excitement, I would prefer you take it elsewhere. The opera, perhaps. We’ll leave for Paris on the morrow, and you may have your fill of adventure. But this is not the place.” He took her elbow and led her from the salon, where she was already causing many a raised eyebrow.

She tugged her arm free. “I like it here, Jack. And if you recall our
agreement
”—she said the word as if it were a mockery—“we are both free to do as we please.”

“That is so, my dear”—he regained control of her hand—“but you may do as you please elsewhere. Your brother would have my head on a platter were he to learn you came here. D’Oursy’s parties are notorious.”

“I thought you were here on business. Besides, I am a married woman now and need not answer to my brother. Either way, you can protect me.”

“I was meeting an especially wealthy client here, and besides, the gambling is marvelous. I do not have the luxury of keeping an eye on you.” He took her arm deliberately, ignoring her movements to free it. “Come, let me take you home. I’ve had enough of gambling and free-flowing spirits for one night. You should be tucked into bed with your nightcap tied securely beneath your chin, not gallivanting about with this dreadful society.” He gave a short, mocking bow. “Present society excepted, of course.”

“Are you going to tell me a story, or sing me a lullaby, dear Papa?” She batted her eyelashes at him followed by a snort of disgust. “I am my own woman, Jack. You did promise to show me around and have neglected your promise. I’ve been a prisoner in your house for days and days and am dying to have some fun.”

“From all the howling emerging from our bed the past week, it seems to me you’ve had more than enough fun, miss.”

“It’s
madame
now, Jack. Do not confuse me with one of your mistresses.”

The plump lower lip quivered. He muffled a curse. She had heard the big-mouthed comte. He’d wring the man’s neck the next time they met.

If Georgiana didn’t kill him first.

“Impossible I should confuse you with anyone, dearest. We can stay another hour and dance, if you like. But that will be the last I’ll hear of it.”

He was certain her arched eyebrows were equal in height to his. Was the girl actually mocking him?

“I thought you were above giving me orders,
Mr. Waverley
.”

“Only when it concerns your safety and welfare,
Mrs. Waverley
.”

She planted her hands on her hips. A fire burned in her eyes, and her lips parted in a sneer. The gaudy lace on her bodice fluttered with each intake of breath, skimming across the top of her ivory bosom. He suddenly had the urge to scoop her over his shoulder and carry her to the nearest darkened corner where he could have his very satisfactory way with her. He shifted his stance, uncomfortably aware of his growing need. Damn, but the girl possessed some kind of wicked charm controlling his every breath. Perhaps he could cool both their tempers in the carriage ride home. The image of Georgiana perched upon his lap the duration of the ride back to the chateau was almost excruciating in its vividness.

“You didn’t object to the original intent of our agreement, Jack, which was for us both to remain independent.”

He wanted to protest, to say his feelings on the subject had inexplicably changed, but caught himself in time. A certain hesitancy in her look convinced him she did not believe a single word she’d spoken.

And that was good enough for him.

He closed the space between them. “Please, Georgiana, come home with me without a fuss. I can take you to finer places than this. You shall have your parties and dancing, and all you desire. I’ll even allow you to dance with black-eyed Frenchmen some of the time.”

He couldn’t help glancing around the salon again for a sign of Danielle. A new crowd of guests had entered, and a woman’s laugh was familiar. Danielle’s usual tactic was to arrive very late just when he’d given up hope of seeing her. By then, his ardor was stirred to distraction. He scowled involuntarily. Danielle had a practiced, sure knowledge of seduction. How did this little chit know what strings to pull?

A stranger caught Jack’s eye and smirked, making an obscene motion with his hand. Flushing, Jack steered her toward the door.

“I’m afraid I will stand on convention and the laws of this land as your husband and command you to accompany me the hell out of here.”

“The commands of a husband do not pertain to me, Jack.”

“Did you not vow to obey me? I recall hearing those words spout from your lips in a garden last week.”

“I’d have said anything to get out of marrying Herbert Richmond, but now I think I may have made a mistake.”

Before he could respond, a woman swept into view, her green eyes spitting fire, her red lips already muttering foul curses his way. He closed his eyes for a second, but the apparition was still very much in focus when he opened them again.

“Who is this woman, and why is she wearing my gown?” She poked her finger at Georgiana, who was mute with, Jack supposed, horrified surprise. He resigned himself to what would surely be an unpleasant end to his otherwise droll night.

“Calm down, Danielle,” he soothed, but she turned on him.

“You do not come to me. You do not send word to me. I left a letter for you with your man at the
vignoble
.” Her skin stretched taut over her sharp cheekbones. “Why is this so, Jack?”

“Who are
you
?” Georgiana asked pointedly, her face flushed and her lips red as burgundy wine. Jack quickly stood between them when Danielle’s gloved hand flew up to strike.

“I should ask the same of you,
mademoiselle
,” she spat. “Why are you wearing my gown?”

“
Your
gown? I…it was…”

Georgiana looked at Jack for help, but he was too busy trying to think of a solution that would not end up with two enraged females fighting over him. Not that the idea didn’t excite somewhat.

“You must have left it at the chateau last year.” He took Danielle’s arm and attempted to lead her into the more crowded ballroom. She was apt to do less damage there. “I shall have it returned to you promptly. This poor girl had nothing else to wear.” He winced when a small fist met his kidney. He considered the possibility of sprouting wings and flying through an open window when one of his gambling associates appeared.

“You seem to be up to your neck in it, Waverley.” The man’s grin ate at Jack.

“Astute observation, Marcel. I would enjoy discussing how you beat me for a thousand francs tonight, but I am, as you pointed out, occupied. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind taking one of these lovely ladies away from me.”

Marcel eyed Georgiana with a smile anyone else would think was benign, but Jack was too aware of the man’s reputation. He bowed to Danielle. “
Bon soir
, madame la comtesse.” She returned his greeting with a flustered wave of her hand. He winked at Jack. “Who is this
très
charmante
English rose? Your ward?”

“I normally appreciate your sense of humor, Marcel, but not this time.”

Georgiana darted a look at Danielle, who glowered at both of them. “I am…his cousin.”

Her response seemed to placate Danielle, who struggled to free herself from Jack’s grip. She relaxed at Georgiana’s introduction.

“You never told me you were bringing your cousin to France, Jack.”

“It was a last minute decision. May I introduce Miss Waverley?” He nearly shook his head with the utter ridiculousness of the situation but decided to teach his little bride a lesson. Marcel seemed too pleased with the news and swept into a low bow.

“Enchanted, mademoiselle.” He nodded at Jack. “Does your cousin dance this evening?”

“Oh, just try and stop her. She was complaining how she has been locked away in a dreadful tower with no entertainment.” Before she could object, Jack took her hand and placed it in Marcel’s. “Have fun,
cousin
.” He didn’t bother hiding his grin and pretended not to notice her narrowed eyes and tight lips. Danielle gave a little sigh and nestled her arms around his neck.

“You dance with me, Jack.”

He extricated himself from her grip and took her hand. “I have a better idea.” He led her into a darkened corridor off the ballroom, aware the entire time Georgiana was staring after him, her heart fully revealed on her face.

Guilt tore at him, but he shrugged off his discomfort. He would teach her a lesson she’d never forget. Even he knew marriage between friends was a bad idea.

Although he could suffer through the benefits if forced.

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Have some more wine, my dear.” Marcel urged another glass on her. With her head and stomach reeling, Georgiana peered through the throng of dancers for a sign of Jack and Danielle, but they were gone. She smiled widely at Marcel and took the glass.

“I will at that.” The liquid rolled down her throat. She’d lost count of how much she’d drunk in the past hour but didn’t care anymore. Jack was clearly enjoying Danielle’s attention somewhere else. Her eyes fogged with tears, but she forced them back with a throaty laugh that shocked Marcel almost as much as it startled her.

“Not so much. At least, not at once. We have all night.” His words were spoken with more suggestion than she cared to notice. She set her glass down and opened her arms.

“Another dance, monsieur.”

“I am happy to oblige you.” Instead of taking her hand, he slipped his arm around her waist and led her through the throng of swirling couples. “This is a waltz. Do you know it?”

“I do now!” The ground spun beneath her slippers, and she soon forgot all about Danielle and Jack, but only for a moment.

Marcel’s brown eyes remained locked with hers, and she lowered her gaze to stare at his lips, which were fuller and redder than Jack’s. What would it be like to kiss those lips? She should do it for spite as well as in the pursuit of her education in the fine art of lovemaking. Jack could tease and mock her all he wanted. Marcel didn’t know her as a little girl who’d pestered him. He wanted her as a woman, if the glances at her cleavage he didn’t bother to hide were any indication.

She didn’t object when Marcel took her for another turn around the floor and then smoothly exited the ballroom to the opened doors of a veranda, his arm securely around her waist.

****

Jack swatted away Danielle’s hand as he took position behind a heavy curtain blocking his view from the ballroom.

“I can’t see them.” He pulled back a corner so he had full view of the dancers. He spied them immediately. Tall, handsome Marcel with his glossy black hair and Georgiana, petite and vulnerable in his arms as they waltzed away, Danielle’s gauzy gown a blur as she swirled in his arms.

“I thought you wanted to be alone with me.” She slipped her arms around his waist from behind and pressed her breasts against his back. “Do not worry about your cousin. She will be all right. Marcel never seduces on the first dance.”

“This is their second.” He turned around, trying to hide his annoyance. “Why do you not get us some wine? I will remain here.”

She glared at him. “I am not your servant, Jack! Why are you so concerned about your cousin? You brought her to d’Oursy’s, so you cannot be too concerned with her welfare.”

“I didn’t bring her. She followed me.” The orchestra began another waltz, and he attempted to turn his attention back to the ballroom, but she tapped his shoulder, hard.

“I never knew you had a cousin, Jack.”

Her steely eyes glared at him. He struggled to say something to placate her, but the time had come. He shrugged.

“All right. She is not my cousin. She is my wife.”

Instead of spinning into a tirade of anger and emotion, Danielle merely laughed, as if he’d told her a simple joke.

“Your wife? Jack Waverley, a married man?” She shook her head patronizingly and patted his arm. “Oh, Jack, that is delightful. I would be jealous if you’d said she was your paramour. But I have little to fear from a
wife
.”

He scowled. “I do not find it so amusing, Danielle. At this moment, another man is trying to seduce my wife, and he may very well succeed.” He rubbed his jaw. “I have not been forthcoming with her, I’m afraid.” He regarded her for a moment until she sobered. “Forgive me, Danielle. I intended to send you word, but…”

Her eyes flashed. “Please, do not tell me you are…Oh, merciful Father!” She laughed again, short and bitter. “Have you fallen in love?”

He scowled. “I would never sink so low as that, Danielle.”

“Yet you avoid my advances. Ignore my letters.”

“I’ve been…preoccupied.” He mentally cursed his bad manners in not responding. One, simple message might have spared them all this trouble, and Georgiana would not, most likely, be contemplating an
affaire
with his longtime rival to spite him.

She snorted. “Yes, preoccupied! With your new bride who cannot take her eyes off you.” She drew in a shaky breath. “I pity her, Jack.”

“Pity her?” He laughed roughly. “I am so miserable a catch?”

“No. You will break her heart. You scorn the idea of love.”

“Spoken by a married woman whose husband adores her, yet you are always chasing me.”

They stared at each other in silence. Slowly, her frown disappeared until the barest, ironic smile remained on her lips. “I chase you because you cannot be caught. Goodbye, Jack. I’m sure you will send for me when you tire of this game.”

He had no response. She spun away, the flounce of her hem swishing around her. He watched her, but only for a moment. When he turned back to the ballroom, Marcel and Georgiana were gone.

****

Marcel threaded her arm through his as they walked the spacious veranda. Large, sculpted planters overflowing with flowers bordered the edge, and she inhaled the scents of heliotrope and freesia.

“How long will you be in Bordeaux, mademoiselle?”

Recalling the way Jack had exited so blithely with his mistress, Georgiana squeezed Marcel’s arm.

“Long enough.”

“Ah.” He abruptly stopped walking and faced her, his cheekbones casting shadows over his face in the moonlight. “I will have to make your remaining days here memorable. Your nights, as well.”