How to Marry a Rogue (22 page)

His fingertip caressed with her cheek, and she nearly pulled away, but stiffened her resolve. “That would be nice.”

The corners of his mouth lifted. “Nice? What a strange, beautiful thing you are. Fortunately, your cousin is not very good with a sword, or I would fear him in a duel.”

“My…cousin?”

The black eyebrows lifted. “Jack. Forgive me, is he not your cousin?” The fingertip dropped from her face.

She shook her head, unable to bear the pretense any longer. “No, he is not.”

Her vision blurred suddenly, and she stumbled away, looking for something to hold onto. Five glasses of wine—or was it six?—had affected her more than she’d thought. She reached behind for the wall and her hand was caught in a firm and familiar grip.

“Thank you for taking care of my wife,” Jack said to Marcel. He peered down at her face. “You don’t look too well, Pudding Face. Or should I say, Wine Breath?”

“Your wife?” Marcel grinned slowly, then bowed with a crisp gesture. “The pleasure was mine, Waverley.”

Jack slipped his arm around her and led her toward the ballroom. He paused and looked back at Marcel, who seemed more amused than disappointed. “And you are mistaken, Marcel, as so many others have been. I’m more than competent with a sword.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

“I can’t believe how much wine I drank.” Georgiana groaned and clutched her stomach as Jack helped her from the carriage.

“You possibly surpassed my limit, which is saying quite a lot.” He paused when she stopped, leaned over and vomited the remains of her adventurous night all over the front lawn of his chateau.

“I’m so sorry.” She wiped her mouth on the back of her glove. “If anyone saw my atrocious behavior, I will be ruined.”

Jack stripped her gloves off her arms and balled them up, stuffing them into his coat. He shook his head.

“It’s rather a scandalous society at the comte’s parties. I doubt anyone will snub you. All that’s transpired is a bottle and a half of wine you just deposited all over the lawn, and a waste of a perfectly good pair of boots.” He clucked his tongue and hauled her upright. “You’re very fortunate I found you before Marcel could have his way with you. When I came upon you on the veranda, you looked as if you were tempted to respond to his advances.”

“Oh, dear,” she moaned, but he shook his head in a friendly manner.

“Have no fear. I will not be meeting him at dawn in a deserted wood on the morrow. He would not have presumed to seduce you if he’d known you were my wife. He’s more decent than I am in that regard.”

His face shimmered in front of her. First, there were two Jacks and then there was one. He slipped his arm around her waist.

“Best to get you into bed, little drunkard, before you decorate the flower beds with the best Bordeaux has to offer. The next thing you know, dozens of drunken little bees and butterflies will be flying around.”

She stumbled again, and this time, he swung her up into his arms and carried her into the house.

“I’m sorry, Jack.” She squeezed her eyes shut but the world continued to spin. She wasn’t aware they arrived at her chamber until he dropped her on the bed.

“Sorry for what?” He unfastened her dress and pulled it off. When he unlaced her stays, she took a refreshing deep breath. He lingered over her stockings, sliding his hands gently up and down her calves. “You’ve done no harm to me, little goose. Besides, now I’m in control of your thousands, I will order up ten new pairs of boots and send you the bill.”

“I’m not talking about the boots. I said I was your cousin, because that woman…”

“What are you talking about?” He untied her garters and slipped off her stockings, kissing her toes in turn before drawing the coverlet over her. The quilt floated over her like a downy cloud. The room was still spinning, but Jack’s presence relieved it somewhat.

“Danielle.” The name hung in the air. “I saw the way she looked at you. She’s in love with you.” Her words came heavier now, slower. “You meant to be alone with her, and I ruined your evening.”

He sank onto the bed beside her, and she closed her eyes while he stroked the hair from her sticky forehead. “You did not ruin a thing, Georgie. I was not waiting for Danielle. I have not seen her since the last time I was in Bordeaux. Besides, it was utterly delightful to watch you flirt outrageously with Marcel. I believe you even made certain promises to d’Oursy’s footman.”

The dim edges of an encroaching dream filtered into her thoughts. “I wanted to make you jealous. I couldn’t help myself.” She lazily stroked the back of his hand and pulled it to her lips. “Forgive me, Jack.”

“I do not forgive you,” he said softly, curling his fingers around her hand. “I am jealous, little Pudding Face. Greener than you were out on the lawn. I can’t stand the idea of any man looking at you or touching you…” He stretched out beside her on the bed. “And dancing is completely out of the question. From here on, I forbid you to dance with anyone but me, especially black-eyed Frenchmen. And dash it all if that offends anyone. If you ever dance with another man again, you will be duly chastised.”

“How frightening! What will you do?”

“All I can say is it will involve much rolling about on the bed and seeking my own satisfaction while being completely oblivious to yours.”

“You are a brute.”

His caressing fingertips over her collarbone belied his words. “I will ensure you never recover from it.”

“Then my wicked device worked.”

“Yes, it did.”

His heart beat reassuringly against her ear, and she drifted off to sleep, the low murmur of his voice singing to her or saying something; she couldn’t tell which.

****

The wall pressed uncomfortably to the back of his head, but Jack ignored it. He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting on the window ledge but guessed from the purple streaks in the sky that it was almost dawn. Across the room, Georgiana stirred in her sleep. He watched her hand search the bed, and when the object she desired was not found, she moved into the spot he’d vacated.

He should have written Danielle immediately upon realizing he no longer wanted to continue his passionate, though emotionally draining relationship with the volatile countess. Although he hadn’t loved her and she’d made no similar protestation to him, it disturbed him he should have caused her any pain. The flash of jealousy in her eyes when she’d accused him of being in love with Georgiana could not bode well.

He swiped his hand across his face. His eyes burned as if he’d rubbed sand in them. Having a conscience was new and not entirely unwelcome. Danielle’s mocking words still rang in his ears. He’d begun to wonder himself if it were possible he could ever give his heart away.

Georgiana was no courtesan or experienced paramour, but a remnant of his childhood and happier, easier times. It was obvious they were becoming closer than friends. Where once a kiss was forbidden, she now touched and kissed him with complete abandon. The physical intimacy was bound to have happened. He’d sensed something of his own insatiable passion within her that first night what now seemed ages ago, though only a week had passed since their spontaneous wedding. Even if she hadn’t suggested losing her virginity to tighten their legal bond, he would have found a way to convince her to share his bed. This truth didn’t bother him the way it should. The more time they spent together, the more voracious his need for her grew, affecting him the way no other woman ever had. She was intoxicating—an addiction.

But that was only part of his problem.

How would he explain himself to Lockewood, when they returned to England? Worse, what the devil would he do now, saddled with a wife?

“Jack?”

Georgiana’s sleepy voice broke into his thoughts, and he nearly lost his hold on the ledge. Ghostlike, she hovered across the floor, her chemise floating about her like gossamer.

His lips parted to tell her to go back to bed, that he was only checking the security of the windows. No sound emerged. He waited for what seemed an eternity until she stood beside him, her fingers reaching out and touching the edges of his open collar.

Instead of making some excuse as to why they should spend some time apart, he held his arms open. She lay in front of him, curving her body into his. He drew his legs up around her, trapping her. The flowery scent of her hair and skin held a faint odor of musky sweat brought on from her earlier intoxication.

“What are you doing?” Her voice was soft and low, still heavy with sleep, though he felt the increase of her heartbeat with every passing second.

He stroked the damp tendrils of hair from her forehead, drawing it back over her shoulders so it hung in thick golden ropes over his hand. He pressed his cheek to the top of her head.

“Waiting for the sunrise.”

“I’ll wait with you, then.” A moment later she murmured, “I am so glad you’re not angry with me.”

“Why should I be angry with you? What harm can a little goose like you do to me?”

She gulped. “I ought not to have followed you to the ball. It’s none of my concern what your…activities are. I fear I embarrassed you.”

Every man’s eyes had been on her at the ball. He’d been struck at how powerfully the sense of protection and pride had grown in him. To think that Georgiana Lockewood, the celebrated beauty of the
ton
would even turn her sights on him was something he’d never imagined.

But it was not for his heart she’d chosen him. She needed to be tied to him for the very same reasons he needed her. Thirty thousand reasons, if truth be told.

“It takes much more than a flirtatious little poppet to embarrass me. In fact, your spitting and clawing only made me more desirable to certain females I wished to impress.” It was a lie but would spare either of them from becoming too attached to the other, a thing he was dangerously close to becoming. Of course, holding her in his arms while both of them were barely dressed didn’t help. And she had a disturbing habit of grinding her hip against his groin, already taut with anticipation and desire.

“Then you should be thanking me, instead of my apologizing to you.”

“There is still the matter of my boots. And Marie and Philippe are going to raise hell when they find your mess in the morning.”

She shuddered. “I have thoroughly humiliated myself, which shall be my punishment. Only, I do hope you won’t tell Jonathan.”

He tugged on her hair. “Yes, let me tell your esteemed brother how his little sister followed me to an orgiastic hell of a ball, where she proceeded to dance with a handsome seducer and imbibe massive quantities of the grape, while I, her supposed protector, was ensconced in a shady salon with a woman reported to be my lover.” He stroked the back of her neck. “That should merit pistols at dawn, don’t you think?”

She shook her head, very slightly, so he barely felt the motion. “Jonathan can have nothing more to say about my life. I’m a grown woman, a truth both of you need to accept.”

“Your newly married status does not automatically grant you sensibilities, my dear.”

She’d been stroking his arm during their exchange, and now pinched him. “And your superior age does not make you an authority on the subject, sir.”

“Are you implying I’m not grown up, even at my superior age?”

“You can criticize my behavior tonight, yet you thought nothing of waltzing away into a private room with that…that…”

“As I recall, you granted your permission and approval for whatever activities I wish to pursue, without fear of retribution, retaliation, or, heaven forbid, tears.” He’d wrapped a long strand of her hair around his fingers. He now began unwinding it. Her quickening breath fanned through his shirt.

“And you have not hesitated in taking advantage of your status.”

He nearly laughed at her preposterous accusations. If she only knew how her antics with Marcel had tormented him.

“I am merely doing as my lady suggested many breakfasts ago, when you made me the most delightful offer of your thousands and the freedom to do as I liked. And I have not heard any protests from you. This arrangement of ours suits you as much as it does me.”

“Yes, but…” She settled back into his chest again. “Never mind.”

“You may tell me anything, Georgie.”

“You will laugh at me. And say you told me so.”

“I promise to remain as sober as a judge. I will laugh later, when you’re asleep.”

She pinched his arm again, harder. “Stop teasing, Jack! I am an adult, now. You forget I have had my share of experiences.”

This time, he did not contain his laughter, though he did not intend his words to sound so sarcastic. “All borne out of my bed, so you cannot hold those over me.”

“I was not talking about you.”

Had she struck him across the face he would not have felt any less sting. Mitford’s sly grin stamped itself in his mind. The thought of that dog pawing at her, kissing her, trying to seduce her… How far had he succeeded? He counted to three silently before he could respond. “Yes, you are a fully grown woman with her own mind.” His heart began to pound in rhythm with hers, though his ardor dissipated. “But being all grown up does not mean you should throw yourself at every man who smiles at you.”

She sat up with a jerk and faced him. A pink flush rose up her throat, and her eyes glinted. Her lips trembled as she caught her breath. “How dare you bring up Edward Mitford?”

He clenched his jaw hard. “For someone who swears she no longer loves the man, you do talk about him quite a bit. Besides, I was referring to your running off with Marcel tonight.”

“I do not talk about him. Besides, it is not my fault he’s here in France. As for Marcel, I only ran off with him because you wished to be alone with your…that woman. You couldn’t wait for me to be out of your sight. You threw me at him.”

“Then you should have stayed home, instead of chasing after me.”

Shut up, shut up!
His mind raced against his heart. He was treading in dark waters now and knew any more words would only hurt her and cause him further regret. He cursed himself for not leaving the chateau earlier when he’d had the chance. He could have been halfway to the
vignoble
by now and composing an apology to Danielle. Perhaps he should see more of her while in France. Was that not his original intent? To spend his nights in carefree passion, without reservation or restriction? Not to lock himself to one woman. Especially one whose eyes filled with tears and made him feel like the lowest snake in the world. With Danielle, there were no surprises. No expectations. No promises. Georgiana came with too many requirements. Too many working parts he hardly knew what to do with her.