The Wicked Wallflowers: Regency Boxed Set (Chronicles of a Bluestocking)

by Tammy Andresen

  It was unfair to Fin, but she’d marry him because…he made her better. Closing her eyes, she vowed to do her best at the role of countess and when he grew tired of her, she’d leave without complaint. He was, after all, giving her the life she’d wanted.

  Which also meant she’d face this dinner with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. And as many words as she could force through her lips.

  Turning, she made her way to the stairway. It was nearly time for Fin to arrive.

  The butler opened the front door and he stepped in just as she made it to the top of the stairs. He looked up at her and she stopped, her heart pounding in her chest. “That dress,” he called up.

  Her lips curved into a smile. “You have excellent taste.”

  “I cannot take credit. It belongs to you, sweetheart.” He held out his hand and her feet unstuck from the ground. Chloe made her way down the stairs, her gaze never leaving his.

  As she reached the bottom of the stairs, he took her hand and then dropped to one knee. She froze, a slow thud sounding in her ears. “Fin,” she gasped.

  He gave her a slow smile, unlike anything she’d ever seen. It was filled with intimacy and affection. His touch was gentle, as though he were holding something fragile. “If we’re going to go places unchaperoned, we’d better let everyone know why.” Then he reached into his jacket and pulled out a small wooden box. Letting go of her hand he opened the box. A ring sparkled up at her.

  Her hand fluttered to her chest as she stared down. “It’s beautiful.” It looked like a diamond but in the candlelight, it had the faintest tint of blue. Was it her imagination?

  “It’s a white sapphire. It’s lovely and unique, much like you. I saw it and I couldn’t walk away. Much like you.” He reached for her hand again. “Chloe, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  Whatever the future with this man held, she knew this was where she belonged now. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’d be honored to be your wife.”

  With deft fingers, he undid her glove and slipped the fabric from her hand. His touch made it difficult to breathe. He pulled the ring from the box and slipped it onto her finger. Then he stood and placed a light kiss on her lips. It made her ache, it was so tender. “Shall we go?”

  She gave a nod. “Let’s.”

  “Try not to worry. I promise you, my family will be very welcoming.”

  She gave him a smile that came straight from her heart. “I’m not worried. You’ll be next to me.”

  His right arm slipped around her waist as he held her left hand in his. “I will.”

  Helping her into the carriage, Fin tried to calm his pulse. Despite the cold air, he was uncomfortably warm and he peeled off his gloves the moment he sat. She was going to be the death of him. Smiling at him with so much trust and affection.

  On the one hand, it filled his own heart. On the other, her unguarded emotion frightened him half to death. Was he equipped for such affection? Sooner or later he’d disappoint her. Would he be able to deal with the complexities of a marriage without resorting to his old ways?

  He swallowed down the lump and forced his thoughts to the present. He had her now and, he told himself, that was what mattered.

  “Is everything all right?” she whispered. “You’re very quiet.”

  Damn. The smile disappeared. In its place was a frown of worry. That was what he did. He couldn’t help himself. He’d twist all the happy moments until he’d taken all the joy from them. This was how he’d ruin her affection. “I’m wonderful.” Then he pushed out of his seat and crossed the carriage to sit next to her. Placing a light kiss on her temple, he reached for her hand, drawing in her scent. “We’re nearly there.”

  She gave a quick nod, her fingers lacing with his. “I’m ready.”

  His chest swelled with pride. She had trepidation about meeting his family and becoming a countess, but she was rising to meet those challenges. He gave her hand a light squeeze. “I know you are.”

  The carriage pulled into the drive and the door snapped open. Fin helped Chloe out as the front door swept open in greeting.

  Ryker and Tricia stepped out and Tricia beamed her greeting down at them. “You’re here!”

  Chloe relaxed against his side, the tension leaving her body. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

  “Chloe, this is Tricia and Ryker. Others refer to them as the Duke and Duchess of Landon.”

  “But not you,” Tricia came down the stairs, extending her arms. “I’m so glad to meet the woman who has finally convinced my stubborn cousin to marry.”

  Chloe let go of his hand to grasp Tricia’s. He said a silent prayer of thanks to his cousin for being the type of woman who welcomed Chloe. Not that he’d ever had a doubt. But Chloe needed Tricia’s support, and this was one of many times in his life he was thankful to have such wonderful family. “I don’t think I can take much credit,” Chloe answered.

  Tricia winked and began pulling them toward the stairs. “It is getting cold, isn’t it? Let’s go inside.”

  He kept his hand on her waist as they walked up the stairs. Ryker quirked a brow but said little as he let them pass and then followed everyone inside.

  Fin knew, however, that he hadn’t heard the last from his cousin’s husband.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chloe found it amazing how much easier talking was with Fin at her side. And it got easier every time.

  All through dinner, they’d chatted like old friends. Fin had been right, Tricia and Ryker were nothing but welcoming.

  “We’re just thrilled that Fin is getting married,” Tricia beamed across the table.

  Heat filled Chloe’s cheeks. “I’m the one who’s thrilled.”

  Over the course of the evening, Chloe learned that Tricia had been the daughter of a duke and was now the wife of another duke. Why would Tricia approve of Chloe? Wasn’t it obvious that while one woman had been trained to be nobility, the other was not at all equipped?

  After dinner, the men left and Tricia walked arm in arm with Chloe to the music room.

  “Have I mentioned how glad I am that you are here?” Tricia gave a little tug on her arm.

  “Only four or five times.” Chloe smiled at the other woman. Then the smile slipped. “Truly, though. I don’t understand your happiness. I’m not a lady like you. I’m just a woman who—”

  Tricia waved her hand and they entered the music room. “Where you come from doesn’t matter to me. I can see that he cares for you.”

  “I’m honestly surprised you think that. You’re an ideal duchess and Fin needs a countess and…” Tricia held up her hand to stop her.

  “I went chasing Fin through the docklands and met Ryker when I was flagrantly breaking social dictates. I can assure you, I appeared less than ideal. In addition, I was adamant from the first that I devote a great deal of my energy to charity work, not the usual role of a duchess, and honestly, it presents its challenges at times.” She took both of Chloe’s hands. “You’ll figure out how to be the countess he needs you to be and the one you wish. What matters to me is that personally, you’re a good fit.”

  Chloe nibbled her lip as she shifted her weight on her feet. “That’s just it, I’m not sure I am.” She drew in a deep breath. “When I get in front of new people or crowds, I usually freeze up. I can’t talk at all, I go mute.” Her hand fluttered. “Fin seems to be the exception and being near him makes me more comfortable, but I don’t think I’m suited to be a countess.”

  Tricia just smiled wider. “He makes you more comfortable. You know he scares most women half to death?”

  Chloe stopped fluttering about, her head cocking to the side. “His ferocity is such a serious problem that you consider a socially awkward girl to be the best prospect?”

  “You’re not awkward as far as I can tell.” Tricia’s eyebrows rose. “And I am fairly certain you bring out the best in each other.”

  Her breath caught. Well, that was interesting to consider.

  Fin
sat staring out the dark window, the night sky an inky black color. He was dimly aware that they hadn’t spoken a word as they sat smoking.

  Only the fire and their burning cigar tips now lit the room and it suited his thoughtful repose. Chloe fit in with Tricia and Ryker like she belonged there all along, as though she’d always been part of his family. It made his chest ache with a longing he couldn’t name.

  “You lied to me, you know,” Ryker said, breaking the silence.

  Probably true, though he searched his mind and couldn’t think of any significant falsehoods. “When was that?”

  “Yesterday.” Ryker straightened. “You said you didn’t love Chloe. You lied.”

  His heart did a strange flop in his chest. “Love? Are you a woman now? Has my cousin filled your head with complete nonsense? I am fond of her. It’s why I am marrying her. That and I nearly ruin—“ He stopped. “But I’m not in love. In fact, we’ve decided once she fulfills her obligation to provide an heir, we’ll lead separate lives.” Those words made his heart flip again, only this one was painful.

  “Let me ask you a few questions.” Ryker took a pull from his cigar. “Do you think about her all the time?”

  Damn. The answer was definitely yes. “Not all the time.”

  “Do you worry you’re not good enough?”

  Feck. “I’m a recovering opium addict. I’m not good enough.”

  “Do you struggle to keep your hands off of her?”

  Bloody damnation. He gripped his thigh. “Have you looked at her? Of course I do.”

  Ryker waved his finger. “She’s stunning but you meet all sorts of beautiful women. It’s the emotion that makes her different.”

  Damn it all to hell. Ryker was right. Fin had fallen in love with Chloe. His fist clenched as he leaned forward. How was he supposed to let her go if he loved her? How could he not let her go? Love meant doing what was best for her, didn’t it? She was surely better off with her friends than with him. “I suppose it does.”

  Ryker narrowed his gaze. “Are you all right?”

  Fin stood. He needed to see Chloe. When he was with her, the voices of doubt quieted. “Let’s find the ladies. In fact, it may be time for us to go. I find I am not myself this evening and there is much to do tomorrow to prepare for the wedding.”

  Ryker stood too. “You can talk to me Fenton…Fin. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  That wasn’t likely to happen. Never a talker, he wouldn’t burden Ryker now. “I’m not thinking anything other than I’m tired.”

  But as he collected Chloe and finally handed her into the carriage, he realized he was thinking something. He wanted to do more than just sit next to her. He needed to touch her and calm the voices of doubt that said his love would never be good enough.

  As she sat on her seat, he climbed in and snapped the door closed behind him. He didn’t even attempt to sit opposite her and pretend a lack of desire or affection. Instead he slid onto the bench next to her, pulling her into his arms. He wanted to feel her, all of her, but her layers of clothes kept him at bay. Still, her heat seeped into him and her velvety cheek brushed his chin.

  “Fin,” she asked, her voice low and feminine, pulling at the deep masculine need to protect inside.

  “I’m here, sweetheart.” He brushed his fingers down her cheek and then found her lips with his. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Why did we leave?” she asked as he lifted his lips.

  What to say? He didn’t want to talk at all and so he kissed her again because he needed to feel her, and he didn’t want to answer just yet. Instead, he deepened the kiss, slanting her lips open and brushing his tongue against hers. Her mouth still tasted of sweets and wine, intoxicating his senses.

  She locked her arms about his neck and he leaned back, pulling her on top of his lap as the kiss intensified. Love. He was in love and Fin never wanted to let her go.

  He ran his hand down the arc of her back and slid it over her behind. Then he pulled their hips closer, both of them groaning as he did. He blazed a trail of kisses along her cheek and then down her neck, but her pelisse got in the way. Her skirts, however, yielded as he pulled them up about her hips. Finding the slit in her drawers, his fingers brushed her bare thigh.

  The skin was so delicate and soft that he groaned again. He could barely wait to touch more of her. “Damn winter,” he muttered.

  She made a breathy sound somewhere between a gasp and a laugh. “The cold air is keeping my virtue intact.”

  He kissed her until his lips met her earlobe and he sucked the sensitive flesh into his mouth even as he slid his fingers to the slick folds of her sex. She trembled, clutching at his neck as she moved against his fingers. His own desire pulsed through him, shutting down the rational part of his mind. He wanted her naked in his bed now. “Come home with me. Tonight. We’ll be married in a few days. No one needs to know.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Desire pumped through Chloe as Fin’s lips caressed her skin and his hand touched her most intimate place. She’d had no idea being with a man would be like this. Heavenly, was the only word that came to mind.

  She hadn’t done much right with Fin. She knew that. And she didn’t deserve to be a countess but as she blinked away the fog of desire, she knew that her relations with him had to be done correctly. “Nothing would make me happier than to stay with you tonight but…” She stopped, swallowing the lump in her throat.

  “What?” he asked as his lips found her again.

  She should say that she wanted to be a good wife to him. That she needed to prove in at least one way, she’d come to this marriage worthy of the role. She supposed, since he was sending her away, her virtue didn’t matter, but years from now, she’d respect herself more if she held to her values now. “Annabelle would know. And my other friends would find out too. What would they think of me?”

  He let out a deep grumble of dissatisfaction. “What they think of you? Who cares?”

  “I care. And you should care. You still plan to send me to live with them after I’ve conceived, do you not?”

  His grip slackened and his hand moved from her sex to her thigh. “I’m not sending you. It’s what you wanted. And yes, I do think it’s best.”

  Why did those words hurt so much? Because he wanted to send her away. Somewhere, in their time together, that had begun to matter. He wanted her but not forever.

  Disappointment licked at his gut. “Very well. We’ll keep up appearances for their sake and for mine.” She pushed off his chest and slid to the other side of the bench. Difficult since he was sprawled across it, his powerful thighs blocking her ability to properly sit. He made no attempt to move but instead stared at her in the darkness.

  She lifted her chin even as she sat with her knees pushed against the wall and her bottom at an odd angle on the seat. If he wanted to be with her conditionally she’d only give him her body under the condition of wedlock.

  “I’ve hurt your feelings.” His voice held a hint of a question.

  She pulled her shoulders back. “Not at all.”

  “You’re strong. It’s why I am marrying you. Or one of the reasons. But, not even you are strong enough to be with me forever. I understand and I care too much to hurt you by keeping you at my side.”

  She sucked in a breath, worry making it hard to slow her pulse. What did that mean? “Fin?”

  The carriage slowed and turned rolling to a stop. “Come tomorrow for final wedding preparations but bring one of your friends as a companion.”

  “But we don’t need to be chaperoned anymore now that we’re engaged. Even traditional couples are allowed to be alone.”

  “I think it’s best.” Then he finally straightened and as the door opened, he stepped out and handed her out of the carriage. Walking her up the steps, he gave her a chaste kiss on her forehead.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.” As the butler opened the door, Fin unlinked his arm from hers and began walking back to the carriage.

&n
bsp; Never had the words see you tomorrow sounded more like a goodbye.

  Fin didn’t go home. Instead he went to his club, which he almost never did. The Wicked Earls’ Club.

  The door was emblazoned with a single W, its emblem a sign for all men who wished to enter. This was a place for wicked men.

  Usually at this time of night, the other members were well into their cups, their gambling, and their women. It wasn’t something he discussed often but he’d given up alcohol when he’d recovered from his opium addiction. It had started because he didn’t make good decisions after a few drinks and he was afraid of choosing the drug again after several ales.

  But he’d found that he enjoyed the clarity of thought that abstaining brought.

  Not that he was any less wicked. In fact, he might be the most irredeemable man in the Wicked Earls’ Club.

  He didn’t go tonight for drinks, he went because he didn’t wish to be alone. He wanted to be wrapped in Chloe’s embrace. Not that he blamed her for denying him. The woman was smart, and he loved that about her. And she was correct. The more limits they put on their relationship, the easier it would be to let her go.

  But inside, something more primitive argued against his rational explanation. She belonged to him. He crashed his fist against the seat.

  His carriage rumbled up to the stone street. After stepping out, he hesitated just outside the door. This was likely a mistake. He kept his visits to the noon hour, usually when men were still reasonably sober. No act made in desperation ever worked. And this trip was definitely born in desperation. He needed to find a way to get Chloe out of his thoughts.

  Walking through the doors, he looked about, recognizing several men. But the one he most wanted to see sat in the corner alone. The Earl of Preston had been Fin’s favorite compatriot for drinking and carousing. He hadn’t been an earl. He’d been a soldier, just back from a tour and he’d had the same need to drown his sorrow as Fin had. Only Wes had been smarter about it and kept himself back from the very edge. Or perhaps, that had been worse. Wes was clearly still living a life of drink as he sat staring with red eyes at the opposite wall.