by Gill, Tamara
He stilled, and she grinned, knowing only too well that he’d not thought that far ahead. That their tryst today would only ever happen once, just as she planned. The only children she would bear would be her husband’s, no matter how enjoyable sharing Lord Ryley’s bed had been, this rendezvous would only happen once.
She sat up, patting his chest. “We have taken precautions today. Nothing will come of it. You’re free to return to the lifestyle you adore so much, and I am free to marry whomever I choose. At least I can thank you for instructing me in the ways of the marriage bed. I must confess that I’m looking forward to married life a lot more now.”
Abe gaped at Willow before he realized she was dressing, and he was still lying on the daybed, his breeches halfway down his legs and his cock laying across his leg for anyone to ogle.
He shuffled to the side of the bed, shucking up his breeches and glancing about for his shirt. The thought of Willow increasing with his child had not entered his mind before now, but now that it had the thought of it filled him with pleasure.
A most unwelcome emotion considering he never intended to be a father. Marriages were not an institution he held in high regard, and he would never father a child out of wedlock. Spying his shirt near the door, he strode over to it quickly, slipping it on, along with his waistcoat and jacket.
He turned, fixing his cravat, and his mouth dried at the sight of Willow, attempting to hook the small little tabs at the back of her dress. Warmth speared his chest at the sight of her, sweet and undemanding. She ought to be commanding, telling him that after taking her virginity that he would marry her, make her his wife.
The words that he needed to say to do the right thing lodged in his throat and would not come. She could fall pregnant, be the mother of his child, and still, he couldn’t voice the possibility. Instead, he strode over to her, twisted her about, and started to clip together the small ties on the back of her gown.
Never before had he taken the time to stay, to help his lovers dress. He’d always left them where they slept and went about his business. No ties, no emotions. Nothing.
He was a cad through and through. He’d never really thought about it much, but his name, the Spanish Scoundrel, really did fit him very well. He was certainly acting the scoundrel right now to Willow.
“We shall discuss the investments tomorrow, perhaps. If you’re free.”
She waved his concern away, turning so he could admire her profile. The sight of her, her beauty, her alabaster skin kissed with the lightest shade of rose after their lovemaking made his stomach clench. Hell, she was a temptress, a woman who made him want to forget all his self-imposed rules and decrees. Made him want to throw them all aside and do whatever the hell made her happy.
“Oh, never mind the investments. I looked over them with my solicitor and we agreed on the Welsh Coal Mine. I’ve already instructed him to invest some of my funds into the scheme.”
Abe stilled, a cold shiver running down his spine. For a moment, his mind worked furiously, and his gut clenched, threatening to cast up his accounts. “How much did you invest?” he managed to ask, hoping it was only a small sum.
“Thirty thousand pounds. I know it’s a third of my inheritance, but I trust you and your business acumen.” At his silence, she glanced at him over her shoulder. “Is that not enough, you think? Should I have invested more?”
Fuck!
“May I suggest that I visit your solicitor just to ensure that all is in order?” Abe prayed that she’d give him the details of the offices so he could travel down there immediately and stop the transaction. Damn it. He was a bastard for even thinking to do such a thing to her. She was innocent and didn’t deserve such treatment.
Panic made his fingers clumsy on her gown, and he took a calming breath, trying to right her dress before leaving. He had to go. Now. If her solicitor was to place her money on the scheme he’d optioned for her, she would lose all that she invested.
“How many more clips do you have to do?” she asked, peeking over her shoulder.
Even with his mind in turmoil, his stomach in his throat, threatening to choke him, her looking back at him, her dark-blue orbs with a teasing light within them made him want to kiss her. To lay her down on the daybed behind them and while away the day making love.
Abe cleared his throat, stepping around her and starting for the door. He was rattled, his mind hazy after one of the best shags of his life.
What was he talking about? One of the best shags? It was the best shag he’d ever had, and she’d been a virgin. The idea of what they could do together when she became more self-aware, more open to other things that they could do made his cock twitch.
“The address?” he queried again, keeping his distance from her lest he pull her into his arms and ravage her a second time. To do so would be unforgivable. She needed time to heal after their afternoon together.
“Oh yes, I have a spare card here on my desk.” She walked over to a small lady’s portable writing chest, and opening a drawer, pulled out a small card. With a smile on her delectable lips that were a deep shade of pink after their many kisses, she came over to him, handing him the card. “Thank you again for helping me with the investments. I would like more advice, if you’re willing, on others if you know of any.”
He stared at her, feeling the lowest cad on earth. The Welsh mine looked like a winning investment on paper, and simply because he’d had the documents forged. He threw her a pleased smile that was as wooden as his heart. “My pleasure. I’ll call on them directly to ensure all is in order.”
Abe leaned down and kissed her, unable to deny himself one last taste of her before he turned and left, shutting the door softly behind him. He kept his calm until he made his carriage, and then he yelled out the direction and for haste.
His driver, sensing the urgency, made short work through the London traffic to Willow’s solicitor’s offices on Harley street. Within ten minutes, the carriage rocked to a halt before a brown-brick building. Without waiting for his driver, Abe threw open the carriage door and strode as fast as he could without looking like a man on a full run. A gentleman stood at the front wooden counter, looking at him expectantly.
“I’m Marquess Ryley. I need to have an urgent meeting with…with…” He fumbled about in his coat and found the card in his pocket. “Mr. Turner, if you will. It’s urgent.”
The young man’s eyes widened, and he bobbed his head so quickly, Abe feared for his health. “Of course, my lord. Right away, my lord.”
Abe cooled his heels only a few moments before a short, stout man with a receding hairline wobbled out into the foyer. “Lord Ryley. It is a pleasure to meet you. Please come to my office.”
Abe followed him and sat on the chair across from the older man, who picked up his spectacles and placed them on his nose.
“Now, what is it that I can do for you, my lord?”
Abe cleared his throat, now that he was here he was unsure how to start this conversation without making himself look like an ass. He resigned himself; there was no other way than to tell the solicitor the truth and hope it wasn’t too late for Willow.
“A Miss Willow Perry gave me your address as my coming here today is in regard to the investments into the Cornwall coal mine that you’re helping her invest in. I have reason to believe the documents were forged, and the returns on the investment were highly exaggerated. If Miss Perry were to invest in the mine, it will, as sure as I’m sitting here, fail, and she will lose the money invested.”
Mr. Turner stared at him a moment, his face turning an awful shade of gray. “Are you well, Mr. Turner?” he asked. The last thing he required was for this man to keel over in front of him. Abe needed him to fix the problem that Abe had caused. He shook his head at his absurdity. What had he been thinking! Should Willow find out what he’d done, what he’d planned to do, she would never forgive him. Never trust him. And rightfully so.
“Miss Perry authorized the payment while staying at the Duke
and Duchess of Whitstone’s estate. The money has been invested.”
For a moment, Abe felt as though his body was not his own, that he wasn’t sitting before a man, and listening to him tell him that Abe hadn’t just lost thirty thousand pounds of Miss Perry’s inheritance. He ran a hand over his jaw, at a loss as to what to do.
The realization that his revenge was complete brought no pleasure. A pain seized in the vicinity of his heart, and he clutched his chest. This would hurt Willow, and that, in turn, would hurt him. He cared for her. While he would never forgive Willow’s aunt for her treatment of his mother or that of Lord Perfect’s parent, nor would he allow what had happened to impact what he’d started to feel for Willow.
Not that it mattered what he felt for her any longer for this would crush her. She would hate him. Fuck it! He took a calming breath when his vision swam.
He would not faint like a matron seeing her charge kiss a rogue. He had to fix this. Somehow, he would fix this.
“You must put a stop on the payment. The investment is not sound.”
Mr. Turner frowned at Abe before he turned to his desk, shuffling through papers scattered atop it. “But I have a letter here from Miss Perry stating that you, Lord Ryley endorsed this particular investment. Indeed, there is paperwork here from your solicitors attesting to the soundness of it. What has happened in the last few days that all of this would change?”
Despair crashed over him, and he fought not to panic. The last few days, being away from Miss Perry, had thrown some truths Abe’s way. That is what happened. Truths that he liked her. Missed her. Cared for her far above anyone ever in his life. That he’d just come from her bed, where for the first time in his life he’d lost control, allowed himself to enjoy, to savor the woman in his arms told him all he needed to know about how much his situation had changed.
He loved her.
Fuck!
“The documents were forged. They were forged at my instruction. It was a mistake, I grant you, and I had not thought that Miss Perry had proceeded with the investment yet. I just came from her home, where she divulged this information. Of course, hence why I’m here before you trying to fix my error. Trying to stop the payment.”
Mr. Turner stood, leaning over his desk. “There is no stopping it now. It is done, my lord and now I shall have the displeasure of telling my client that due to a lord’s folly she has lost one third of her inheritance.” The older gentleman, as stout as he was, seemed to grow in size at his anger. “How dare you play her the fool in such a way? Such funds may be nothing to you, but they are everything for others. Please leave, I have work to do, one particular job of telling Miss Perry that you’ve led her on a merry dance for reasons only you understand. I highly doubt that she will be so understanding. Good day to you.”
Abe wouldn’t normally let anyone speak down to him in such a way, but today he deserved the set down. Deserved to be called the bastard that he was—the scoundrel.
There was no coming back from this. Willow would never forgive him and he’d never forgive himself.
Chapter 14
A week after being told by her solicitor that her investment had failed, Willow sat in her library, having spent the past half hour pacing up and down the long room. Lord Ryley was due to arrive any moment. The mere thought of him made her blood boil, and she was ready to see him again after denying him these past days.
Thirty thousand pounds. She clutched her stomach, knowing she would never get that money back. Never have that security again in her life. What if she had risked all her inheritance? Not that she would be so foolhardy, but what if she had been interested in doing such a thing? She would’ve lost everything. Her home. The security for her friends who lived with her.
The bastard!
A quick rap sounded on the door, and her butler opened it, announcing Lord Ryley. His lordship stepped into the room, his hair, as usual, sat displaced atop his head as if someone had run their hands through it. His superfine coat fit him like her kid-leather gloves, and his Hessian boots were polished to such a shine that Willow could see his lordships reflection in them.
“Please leave the door open, Thomas.”
Lord Ryley schooled his features at her decree and came to stand on the opposite side of her desk. Willow gestured for him to sit before she also sat, adjusting the papers on her desk lest she stand, go about the desk and murder him in her library.
“Willow, I have wanted to see you. To explain. To–”
“There is no reason to explain, my lord. I understand perfectly well. You played me a fool and the green lass that I am, I fell for it. I should not have trusted you.” Not just in the financial kind of way, but emotional as well. She’d given herself to this man. Allowed him liberties that she should never have allowed anyone. Not unless that anyone was her husband.
He sighed, running his hand through his hair. From the looks of it, he’d been doing that quite a lot today. Was he remorseful? She hoped so. If he was at least, it would show some kind of heart beat inside that chest of his.
“I’m sorry, Willow. I had not thought that you had already approved the investment. When you told me that you had, I did try to correct the action. As you know,” he said, glancing down at his hands. “I was too late.”
“Yes, well, when we spoke of it at the house party, I did not think I would need further tutoring on the idea. That you approved it, stated to the fact that you would be investing in the mine also, I had no reason for concern. What I did not know, of course, is that you were using me as a means of revenge.”
He met her eyes, and she read the confusion in his dark, fickle gaze. “Who said that to you?”
“Lord Herbert explained there was some sort of scandal involving your mother that forced her to leave England. That in some way you blame Lord Herbert’s family and my own for her departure.”
“Lord Perfect has no idea what he’s talking about.” Lord Ryley narrowed his eyes, contemplating her. “Did he tell you that his mother slandered my mother? Her best friend at the time. Called her all types of vicious lies simply because she was from Spain and not all peaches and cream as they so like their ladies of the upper ten thousand to be.”
Willow took in this information and tried to tally it up with what Lord Herbert had told her. It did not make any sense. “That is not what he said at all. He told me that your mother left London due to having an affair with a man, not her husband.”
“That isn’t what happened at all, and I would suggest, madam, that you only speak the truth when it comes to my family. Unless you too are tainted as a liar like Lord Perfect.”
“Very well,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “Tell me your version of the events.” Not that she deserved any of his treatment, his need to bring her down financially. Another part of her worried that he’d also set out to take her virginity to ruin her reputation as well. Not that he could hurt her any longer. She had ensured her future was secure before today.
“Lady Herbert disliked that my mother was regarded in the ton more highly than she was, especially since she was an outsider. A foreigner. They were friends once, yes, but that soon came to an end when jealousy imbedded its claws into Lady Herbert’s spine. My mother was taunted and teased out of London and has not returned. I was left to be raised by staff and nannies before being sent off to school. Father fell ill at her leaving and never recovered. I place all of that dreadful time in my life at Lord Perfect’s family and yours as well.”
She shook her head, staring at him with pity. “Please explain to me how my family is involved?”
“Your aunt, Viscountess Vance, was in the thick of all this scandal. Throwing her opinionated self into the fray.”
Realization struck Willow, and she stared at Lord Ryley with far greater insight. “And so you, all those years later, set out to ruin me financially because of something that my aunt did to your mother twenty years ago?” She barked out a laugh, unable to hold it in any longer. “You’re mad!”
Most definitely, he was mad. He was also shamed. Hearing Willow tell him that he’d taken revenge on her for something that happened twenty years ago made him look petty and idiotic. “They made my mother’s life hell.”
“Your mother now. Is she happy?”
He adjusted his seat, knowing his answer would make him look further like a fool. “She remarried a wealthy merchant in Spain several years ago. They are both very happy.”
“And yet here you were, brooding and just waiting for your chance to strike like a Spanish viper.” She leaned forward on the desk, watching him. Something in his chest hurt at the sight of her pain at her displeasure of him. He didn’t want her to feel that way about him. At first, he’d wanted her to pay, but that had long changed. Had he known that she was going to move forward with the investment without further consultation with him, he would never have allowed it.
He loved her. For the first time in his life, his heart had beat outside of his chest for another. He wanted her to be his wife, but that right now seemed like a dream that would not come true. She hated him. Loathed him. He could see it in the blue depths of her eyes. He’d disappointed her.
“I’m sorry, Willow. I have hated them all for so long that I could not see past my hate. I should never have involved you in my scheme, but your aunt had been so cruel, so vindictive to my mother that I could not let it go. I was orphaned because of them all.”
“No you were not, my lord. You were orphaned because your mother chose to leave you here in England instead of taking you to Spain. I do not know what story to believe, that your mother had an affair or if she was degraded by society due to the color of her skin, but either way, you choose to make me suffer for a crime that I wasn’t part of. How could you do that?”
