I've Got My Duke to Keep Me Warm (The Lords of Worth) (25 page)

“Shit.” It was Jamie who said what Gisele had been thinking.

“Language, James,” Eleanor reproached before looking between them warily. “Why on earth would you think Valence would not attend? I would have thought after the events of yesterday afternoon, Valence would be falling
all over himself to reassert himself into the good graces of society.”

Gisele exchanged a look with Jamie. “I went to see Valence last night,” she said.

Eleanor’s face went comically blank before her eyes bulged from their sockets. “You did
what
?”

“Lord Huston arrived here last evening, most distraught, as you might imagine. He told us that his father had dismissed Valence’s actions.” Gisele sighed. “I had to do something.”

Eleanor was trying to formulate words. “Define
something
.”

“Last night Valence took refuge in opium, just as I knew he would, just as he’s done a hundred times before when faced with emotional turmoil. I waited until he was insensible before I… appeared to him.”

Eleanor whirled on Jamie. “Where the hell were you?” Her voice was shrill.

“Right beside her.” Jamie’s jaw was set.

“I thought to provoke Valence with the idea I no longer belonged to him,” Gisele said wearily.

Eleanor’s shrewd blue eyes went from Jamie to Gisele and back again. “Dear God in heaven.” Harried color bloomed across her cheeks.

“Valence seemed quite convinced,” Gisele interrupted the duchess. “Though with the opium, it’s difficult to predict how much he will remember. So I left the diamond.”

Eleanor sat down with a graceless thump on the chair nearest the hearth. “Diamond?” she croaked.

“The strange yellow one. The one you didn’t want to sell for fear it would be recognized.”

“Oh, dear God.”

“Valence knows now that what happened yesterday on Bridge Street was not a figment of his imagination. I left him proof.”

“Oh,
shit
,” the duchess breathed, and Gisele would have laughed at the incongruity of that statement had the matter not been so bleak.

“Whatever happens, Lady Julia’s reputation cannot be destroyed,” Gisele said quietly. “She’s done nothing to deserve this.”

Jamie fixed Gisele with a strange look. “Wasn’t it you who suggested I ruin her in the first place?”

Gisele shook her head. “You were right to refuse, Jamie. Even though Lady Julia would be physically safe, she would be destroyed, and Valence would still win. We cannot let Valence ruin her.”

Eleanor scowled. “I don’t know how it will be avoided.” She slanted a glance at Jamie. “James might as well have the Hextall girl on a blanket in the middle of Piccadilly for all it will matter if Valence is absent when the cream of London society is at a ball held in the happy couple’s honor. Now that Valence has proof Gisele is alive, it is almost certain that his obsession with her will cause him to abandon his engagement, his fiancée, and her dowry, for Gisele is worth far more to him. We can hope he searches publicly, which would, of course, bring his soundness of mind back into question, but if he goes to ground, the Marquess of Valence will simply be seen to have cast aside the Lady Julia for reasons left to the cruel imaginations of society. And she will be ruined.”

Gisele pressed her forehead into her hands. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” she moaned.

“Then tell the duke,” Jamie said, pushing himself away
from the wall. “Tell him the truth. The truth about what the marquess did to his last wife. Why Lady Julia would be better off if Valence did throw himself off a bridge. Your son would never go through with the ball if he knew.”

“To what end? Invitations to the ball have already been delivered. To cancel now would send out a message the duke no longer supports Lord Huston or Lady Julia.” The duchess spread her hands out before her. “It’s not Worth we need to convince. It would be the whole of London society that would need to believe. Short of producing Gisele for their inspection and perusal, which will never be allowed to happen for all the obvious reasons, it would be damned near impossible to sell such a tale.”

“Valence would come to the ball if he thought Miss Whitby would be there.” Malcolm spoke up for the first time.

All eyes swiveled to the duke.

“If what you say is true, everyone who will be at the ball tonight saw Miss Whitby die four years ago. In their minds that is a nonnegotiable truth. If Valence were to show up tonight, searching for his dead wife, no amount of distortion and twisting of words could make him appear anything other than mad. Especially after yesterday. But he would need to be provoked into another very public search at the ball. And if that were to happen, Boden would be forced to refuse to allow his daughter to marry a man sunk in insanity, and the earl would have the support of everyone there. Lady Julia’s reputation would remain intact.”

“True.” The duchess considered Malcolm. “But how would Valence be convinced Miss Whitby would be at the ball?”

“Perhaps, if your son would be so gracious, His Grace
might be persuaded to make this ball a celebration of two engagements? Lady Julia and Lord Valence. And my dear brother, Mr. Montcrief, and his mystery bride, to be announced at midnight. It is a masked ball, after all. A little intrigue always ensures an impressive attendance.”

A slow smile crept across Eleanor’s face. “You do yourself a disservice, young man,” she said. “You are exceedingly clever.”

Malcolm smiled faintly. “I must be content with my lot in life. Not everyone can be blessed with a stellar right hook.” He prodded his face gingerly.

The duchess was thrumming her fingers on the edge of her chair. “Why, everyone will be talking about it. Mr. Montcrief’s sudden and thrilling engagement to a woman of exceptional beauty. A woman who, I will say when asked—and I will be asked—bears a
shocking
resemblance to the late Lady Valence.” Eleanor stood abruptly, her breathless, mocking demeanor vanishing. “But whether or not you actually make an appearance tonight like the one you made yesterday afternoon, Miss Whitby, will remain to be seen.”

“Of course I will,” Gisele intoned.

“Of course she won’t,” Jamie said at the same time.

Eleanor tapped her chin. “A masked ball may indeed work in our favor. Regardless, I need to speak with my son immediately. And I need to make a number of calls. And send out a number of notes. The sooner people start talking the better. I must excuse myself immediately.”

“Do I get any say in my impending fictitious nuptials you and my brother have so thoughtfully planned?” Jamie called after the duchess as she headed for the door, sounding a little overwhelmed.

“No,” Eleanor replied brusquely. “You don’t.” She smirked. “Just try and look happy. As I would imagine you look when you’re kissing a dead marchioness.”

The door slammed behind her, and Gisele was torn between the need to laugh and the need to cringe.

Jamie sent Malcolm an exasperated look. “I hope you’re enjoying this.”

“Incidentally, I am.” His amused expression slid from his face. “What that man has done is reprehensible. And I have a great deal to make up to you, Jamie. Please let me help.” He included Gisele in his plea.

“Thank you,” she said, meaning it. Just the knowledge that Jamie had someone watching his back was a considerable relief. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Very well,” Jamie said, coming to stand behind Gisele and wrapping his arms protectively around her. “If you want to help, I am supposed to go riding in Hyde Park this afternoon. Valence is to be included in our party.”

Malcolm looked at his brother in question.

“You may accompany me and prevent me from killing him.”

Chapter 24

A
dam accepted the note delivered to him by his surly housekeeper and read it carelessly, tossing it into the fire when he was finished.
Just as well they all canceled
, he thought, glancing at the torrents of rain pounding against the windows, for he had never intended to join them. He wasn’t about to waste time riding in Hyde Park with anyone, and certainly not the bloody Earl of Boden and his simpering daughter. Not when his Gisele was out there, just waiting for him to find her.

Adam’s study was in disarray, records and dusty sheets of paper stacked on every surface. He was going back through every correspondence, every scrap of information he had from the last four years, trying to discern some clue as to where his beautiful wife might have gone. The explosion had been horrific, and it was possible she had been rendered insensible from the blast. He’d heard of that before—people suffering memory loss after a trauma. It was undoubtedly what had happened to his Gisele.

He wasn’t entirely sure why she hadn’t simply presented herself to him, but he was too happy to care. Perhaps Gisele was hesitant about reentering society. There
would, after all, be an outlandish amount of gossip and speculation. Or perhaps her memory was not yet completely restored. Adam pulled the miniature of Gisele from his pocket, where he’d taken to keeping it with the yellow diamond, close to his heart, and smoothed his fingers over her beautiful face.

God, what he would do to help her remember.

Another knock on his study door had him scowling at the interruption.

“It’s the man from yesterday, my lord,” the housekeeper said wearily. “Says he’s your valet?” She paused, a small flicker of hope in her eyes. “Didn’t know you had a valet, my lord.”

Valence straightened abruptly, sending a flurry of papers to the ground. Sebastien was here again?

“He says it’s regarding your wife,” she added as if it was an afterthought.

Adam froze for a split second before he shoved past the startled housekeeper, taking the stairs two at a time down to the servants’ entrance. Sebastien was waiting just inside the door, his usual unruffled composure slightly askew. Adam came to a skidding halt, a thrill of anticipation firing through him.

“Good afternoon, my lord,” Sebastien greeted him nervously.

“Tell me,” Adam demanded.

Sebastien looked around warily, as though he was afraid of being overheard. “I can’t stay—Montcrief does not know I am here. But I had to come.”

Adam bobbed his head, nearly dancing from foot to foot.

“I am afraid you might think me crazy, my lord,”
Sebastien started hesitantly, his voice so low Adam could barely hear him. “But I saw her.”

He had known, but the confirmation by another sent a rush of intense joy and possessiveness flooding through his body. “Where is she now?” He was nearly coming out of his skin.

“I don’t know.” The valet appeared to be struggling for words to explain. “But I know she will be at the ball tonight. The one the Duke of Worth is hosting in your honor.”

Adam searched his memory blankly before recalling there had been an urgent missive delivered earlier with the Worth crest stamped on the front. He hadn’t bothered to read it, let alone respond. “In my honor?”

“For you and Lady Julia, my lord.” Sebastien didn’t seem to notice his ignorance. “But at the ball, Mr. Montcrief is planning to announce his own engagement and introduce his bride to the ton.”

“I don’t understand.” Adam felt the first pricking of apprehension.

“It’s her, my lord. Lady Valence.”

“Who?” The apprehension grew into dread.

Sebastien glanced around nervously again, his face pale. “The woman Mr. Montcrief intends to marry. I saw her today. With him. He’s kept her hidden all this time, but today I saw her. It’s Lady Valence, my lord. I’m sure of it.”

A black rage filled Adam so quickly it blurred the edges of his vision, and he had to steady himself against the cool plaster of the wall. It all made sense now. The sudden appearance of Gisele coinciding with the sudden appearance of Montcrief. Adam had never believed in
coincidences, and this only proved the merit of his intelligence. His vision cleared.

After all these years, Adam had finally found Gisele, and tonight he would fetch his bride and bring her home.

“You were right all along, my lord,” Sebastien was saying. “It was Lady Valence you saw yesterday on that bridge. She’s not dead at all. She’s with
him
.”

A vision of Gisele, dressed in her silk dressing gown and locked in a passionate embrace with Montcrief, dropped into his mind’s eye.

And for the second time in two days, Adam thought he might faint.

Chapter 25

G
isele was sitting at the window of her room, staring out at the bruised sky hanging low over the grounds and the treelined drive of Breckenridge, the Worth ducal manor that sat perched on the southwestern edge of London. Below her was a steady stream of wagons and carts and horses, all making their hasty deliveries of food and drink even in the relentless rain and mud. Inside, the scene was even more chaotic. She could hear an army of servants, frantically swarming about the ballrooms and kitchens in an epic effort to cram days of preparations into hours.

Eleanor had sent Joseph and her carriage to collect Gisele and bring her to Breckenridge by midafternoon. Gisele could not pretend she wasn’t relieved to be hidden in the anonymity of the manor’s vast warren of rooms. Sebastien had returned from Valence’s grimly satisfied, and while they were confident Valence would make an appearance at the ball tonight, they weren’t entirely sure he wouldn’t try to make one at Jamie’s apartment first. Jamie hadn’t been able to push her out the door and into the carriage fast enough.

Gisele’s eye was caught by a rider coming up the drive, bundled against the rain, his horse eating up the ground
in easy, fluid strides. In an instant her pulse raced, and butterflies soared. God in heaven, her reaction to Jamie Montcrief was getting worse every time she saw him. It was a wonder she was able to string more than four words together in his presence.

She didn’t know what she was going to do when he left.

Gisele shoved that thought from her mind. She would have far more pressing things to worry about in the next hours than the inevitable ending to whatever this was that she and Jamie shared. Gisele waited where she was, knowing he would seek her out as soon as he was able. Even though the planned excursion to Hyde Park had been put off because of the miserable weather, among all the comings and goings of the day, Gisele and Jamie had had little time to talk. And there was a great deal that needed to be said before tonight.

It didn’t take long. She heard his footsteps in the hallway, and the door banged open and he was standing there, windblown and flushed from his ride.

“Dammit, but this is a bloody big house,” he said. “Sebastien was able to recall the location of the green guest room with somewhat less than his usual perfect accuracy.” His eyes widened as he took in the luxurious rugs and wall coverings and the massive antique draped bed, all decorated in shades of emerald.

“Did anyone see you come up?” Gisele asked.

Jamie made a wry sound. “An entire regiment could have marched through the house below and no one would have noticed unless they had come bearing crystal and pressed linens.”

“Close the door then, Jamie,” she said with an impish smile. “I have no desire to scandalize any errant soldiers.”

Jamie kicked the door closed, taking a precious few seconds to turn the key in the lock before Gisele was in his arms, and he was kissing her with an ever-increasing intensity.

“I can’t seem to get enough of you,” he breathed, even as Gisele shoved his riding coat from his shoulders.

“You don’t know the half of it,” she whispered back.

The pins in her hair scattered everywhere, and the top of her gown slipped.

“I’m supposed to be furious right now,” Jamie told her, his lips against her neck.

“Oh?” Her hands lifted his shirt neatly over his head, and she smoothed her fingers across the broad expanse of skin on his chest.

He hissed in pleasure at the sensation. “You’re distracting me.”

“You have my sincere apologies, sir.”

“I am trying to believe you will not be so foolish as to try wearing that ball gown currently hanging behind you,” he told her.

“Mmmm.” She ran her fingers over his shoulders, his skin hot and smooth beneath hers.

“I don’t want you here.”

“Liar.” She pressed into the evidence of his want.

“I never said I didn’t want you. I said I didn’t want you
here
.” She found herself pulled up against the hard length of him, his eyes searching hers. “Gisele, we have to talk about what you have planned for tonight. This is important.”

“Must we really have this conversation now?” She sighed.

“We have to.”

“No, we do not.”

“Gisele, I love you.”

She stared at him, her breath caught in her throat.

He cupped her face in his hands. “You have come to mean everything to me,” he said, and his voice was hoarse.

“Oh, Jamie. I love you too.”

“I should have told you sooner because I think I fell in love with you the moment you bought me that first God-awful pot of ale. But the man I was in Nottingham had nothing to offer you—nothing you would want, anyway.”

“You’re wrong. I never wanted things,” Gisele said softly. “I only ever wanted you.”

“I know that now. After seeing Malcolm today, and after hearing of how Sofia and Richard searched for me, I realized a person may want my love even if I haven’t fully earned the right to give it. And… I’m afraid you are stuck with me regardless, for I find I can’t live without you.” He shook his head slightly. “Gisele, I want you safe.”

“I know. And I will be. I’ll be with you.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“So you are going to wear that damned dress.”

“Yes.” She pulled back to meet his eyes. “Because tonight, it ends for good.”

It was pointless to argue. Everything that had happened from the moment Gisele’s father had offered his only daughter to the Marquess of Valence had set the wheels of fate in motion so that they had arrived at this point.

“Where’s Malcolm?” Gisele asked.

“He went back to his rented rooms to get his affairs in order and dress for the ball. While my father avoided London, Malcolm does not. He and Sebastien will be here by early evening. He said he doesn’t dare miss out on a moment of his brother’s engagement party.” A rumble of rueful laughter echoed through his chest.

“Good.” Gisele grinned up at him. “What did the duke say when his mother told him you were engaged?”

“He sent me a note offering me his sincere congratulations. And that he understood now why I dodged the rather enthusiastic overtures of Lady Goddard at the Baustenbury ball. He also wondered how much time I might be allowed to spend in his stables in the future before my wife objected.”

Gisele laughed. “You’re probably entitled to a raise, you know,” she told him.

“Indeed?”

“I feel certain that sham betrothal was not among the potential duties we discussed when I hired you.”

“True. But I wasn’t entirely forthcoming about my various skills at the time.”

“I agree you left a great deal out.” Her finger traced the ridge of his collarbone, coming to rest on the scar across his shoulder. “It was Sofia who pulled you out from under your horse that day, wasn’t it?”

Jamie caught her hand in his. “Yes. She followed Michael to Waterloo, and when he did not return from the battlefield after it was all over, she immediately went looking for him. She found both of us, though it was I who still lived, if barely.”

“What you did for her and Richard—selling your commission—was very noble.”

“It was the right thing to do and I would do it again in a heartbeat.” Jamie traced the outline of her lips with his thumb. “But if we’re comparing noble acts, you’ve set a high bar.”

“I might have been persuaded into your bed far sooner had I known you could meet it so effortlessly,” she teased.

“Touché,” he whispered, bending to kiss her properly. “I shall report all my good deeds straightaway in the future. In fact, I believe I may have helped a kitten from a tree on the ride from town.”

She laughed, twining her arms around his neck as he kissed her deeply and pulled her forward until they bumped into the canopied bed. Her hands moved from his hair to caress the sides of his face, and then his own fingers caught hers, pulling them down to rest on his shoulders. He ran his hands down the smooth lines of her waist and gathered the fabric of her skirts, pushing it up her thighs.

“What are you doing?” Her kiss suddenly stilled.

“Oh, pardon me,” he growled. “Perhaps I forgot to mention I also helped a footman carry a rather weighty delivery of petit fours downstairs. Need I go on?”

Jamie felt her smile against his mouth. “Why, Mr. Montcrief, could this be your attempt to ply me with pretty, persuasive words?” Gisele was watching him, wicked amusement dancing in her eyes.

“Do you think you can do better?”

“I am very adept at pretty words,” Gisele told him, shivering slightly at his touch. “I even had a tutor for such a thing. I am likely far more literary than you.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Jamie let his fingers roam along the impossibly soft skin of her inner thighs.

“You don’t believe me?”

“No, I don’t believe you,” he said, dipping his head to kiss the underside of her jaw. He heard her suck in her breath, and he grinned. “But you can try me. Say something inspired.” He kissed the hollow of her throat as his fingers moved in slow circles, exploring her damp folds.

“I—the—by—hmmm,” she sighed against him.

“That’s very scholarly,” he teased, though the sounds she was making were beginning to make it hard for him to concentrate. His hands slid around her backside, pulling her up hard against his erection.

“That’s cheating,” she panted. “I can’t think.”

“Admit defeat.” He was rapidly losing what little restraint he had left.

“Never.”

“Last chance.”

Her mouth was against his ear. “I think you should have me, Jamie Montcrief,” she whispered. “Every way you can think of and some you can’t.”

A wall of lust slammed into him and he nearly came undone where he stood.

“You win,” he groaned.

He let go of her only to help her rid them both of their clothes, her fingers as frantic as his. In a minute his body was bare to the chill of the air, and he pushed her back on the bed, her skin hot against his own. He came down on top of her, kissing her with a savage need. Her hands were at his back, on his hips, pulling him toward her, her body straining to meet him. He entered her in a single thrust, and the pleasure of it left him nearly insensible.

She was whispering his name, writhing under him, urging him deeper, and he tried desperately to regain
control but any semblance had slipped away a long time ago. Jamie had his hands beneath her, raising her hips to meet each of his thrusts, feeling her very core as he surged against her. Her legs wrapped around him, her head tipped back, and she stiffened, her body convulsing around him, and he drove into her once more before his world came apart.

He left his head on the pillow, his nose pressed into the side of her neck, breathing hard. He was aware his weight was likely crushing her, yet when he attempted to move, she tightened her hold on him.

“No,” she said. “Stay.” He could still feel her spasms, felt her quiver in her own eddies of passion.

He kissed her again for long minutes, a slow, sensuous exploration. Presently he rolled to his side, and this time she let him go. “That wasn’t fair, you know.”

She smiled. “I told you I was adept with pretty words, even if I must steal them from naked, drunken cavalrymen I’ve only just met.”

“I love you, Just-Gisele.” Jamie wanted this moment to last forever.

She laughed breathlessly, a beautiful sound that made his heart turn over. “I love you too, Jamie Montcrief.”

“Promise me that tonight you will not be noble,” Jamie said suddenly. “Promise me you will be smart and safe. Promise me that I will be able to tell you how much I love you tomorrow and for all the days after that.”

“Only if you promise the same.”

Jamie kissed her. “I promise I will love you forever.”