Wild, Wicked and Wanton: A Hot Historical Romance Bundle

by Natasha Blackthorne

  Chapter One

  Philadelphia, PA

  February 1794

  “Oh, come now, Alex, please tell me you’re not going to marry that sweet, innocent girl.”

  The words were like an icy fist closing over Alexander Dalton’s heart. Yes, he’d asked himself the same thing, but to have it confirmed outright by his old friend… resentment replaced the coldness. He tapped on the windowsill of his bedchamber, his gaze still captivated by the slender young woman below in the garden. Her spill of ringlets glittered like rubies in the sunlight. His claret-haired girl. She was the jewel he had found. A treasure he would never let go.

  “It won’t work. You know it won’t.” Beneath the wry cynicism, there was a wealth of sympathy in Nicolo Calabria’s voice. He knew Alex’s demons intimately. No one else was better qualified to make such a judgment. “And, my friend, your life is quite firmly attached to America, is it not? It won’t be so easy for you to get away.”

  Nicolo had three wives. One in France, one in Italy and one in England. And God knew how many mistresses. It was a kindness between the two of them that they never kept count of each other’s discarded mistresses.

  But, today, Nicolo’s words were like sugar poured into a cracked tooth and Alex couldn’t prevent the rush of angry, defensive words. “I am not going to run away from my marriage.”

  There was a pause. “Ah, you wound me. You truly do.”

  Alex forced himself to turn away from the window and face his accuser. “I am not judging you. I never have. But I am telling you, I would never—could never abandon her.”

  A small smile softened Nicolo’s face and his pale blue eyes glowed with sympathy. “Alex, Alex, do you think I haven’t said the same thing to myself? Each time? I have so longed for a second chance, a renewal. Some woman’s love that can change what I am, what I have become. And, each time I thought I’d found it, I did not care at what cost it came. I had to have it. But it always ends the same. I shall burn in hell’s fire for my bigamy.”

  “I am telling you I shall stand by her or die trying.”

  “You may convince yourself but you cannot convince me. I know too well how it is. You will not be able to bear living with her and seeing each day the hurt accusation in her eyes. You won’t be able to do anything about it. You will have withdrawn the vital parts of yourself long before. You won’t be able to bear it. You’ll do anything to get away.”

  Alex fisted his hands, resisting the urge to lash back angrily. Nicolo was only an echo of his own doubts. His chest grew tight. Both Nicolo and the little voice inside were wrong. It wasn’t true.

  He couldn’t bear looking into those sympathetic, understanding eyes a moment longer. He glanced back at the window. Dr. John Abbott, a frequent visitor, had come into the garden. Emily was laughing at something he’d said, her head tilted back exposing the pure, graceful lines of her throat. A sharp pain erupted in his chest. God, he wanted her.

  Nicolo did not understand. He couldn’t have loved a woman like this and ever turned his back on her. However, Alex wasn’t playing jury with his old friend. He should simply let this subject drop but he couldn’t. He spoke slowly, controlling his tone. “If I decide to love her, to be loyal to her, then I shall be steadfast in my affections.”

  “Ah, I remember this confidence. I wish I could attain it again if only to have the brief pleasure of believing I can change. Being in love is the finest thing in life. Do not think I don’t know this.”

  “You say it as if it were fact, already decided.”

  “No man, introduced to women the way we were, could ever be settled into a normal married life.” Nicolo laughed softly. “The variety, the perfection, the pure carnal decadence. What one woman can ever compare?”

  Alex turned away and contemplated the window again. Emily was gone from the garden. All that remained were muddy puddles and bare trees.

  “Well, would you look at the time?” Nicolo sighed. “Some of us still have to work for our living. I shall be going.”

  Without bothering to turn around, Alex nodded mutely. His mind was already far away in another place, a distant time. To a land of steaming, perfumed baths lined with blue and yellow tiles.

  “I am going to die in childbirth, I know it.” Catarina’s sad tone leached into him like acid.

  He stroked her golden hair. “You’re not going to die.”

  “I don’t want to die here. I don’t want to die a slave.” Her voice shook, a sound of suppressed hysteria.

  He placed his hand on her still flat stomach. “I promise, I shall think of something. I’ll get us out of here before the child comes.”

  Ah, the confidence of youth. Alex laughed cynically. But the past was dead and now he wished only to forget it.

  Chapter Two

  “He’s not going to marry you.” John sounded so firm, so final.

  Emily took a quick, hard breath. They had stopped on the way back to the house. She traced her fingertip down a wilted brown vine still clinging to the garden trellis. A smile trembled on her lips. “Of course he is going to marry me.”

  “There’s been no public announcement of this alleged engagement. Has he set a date?”

  Discomfort roiled into her innards. “No, he hasn’t… Not yet.”

  “Well, I must say, if I were promised to you, I wouldn’t delay any more than necessary. But, again, I can only assume by his delay that he’s getting everything from you that a man wants and has no reason to haste.”

  She tightened her hand on the vine so hard it snapped. “You have no right to speak to me so personally.”

  “Someone must.”

  “It is not your place.”

  “You’re living in his house. You are no relation to him. He must marry you, Emily, else your reputation will be ruined.”

  “His aunt and spinster cousin also live in that house.“ She laughed softly. “It is quite respectable.”

  “People know the kind of man he is. Everyone remembers those rumors about how the two of you met in the Blue Duck. How he thrashed Richard Green to the floor over you. That whole affair later… Green’s abduction of you and his subsequent suicide didn’t help things.”

  “Yes.” She acknowledged his words, while pushing the terrible memory of that day with Green aside. “But Alex says as time goes by, if he—if we act as though we’ve nothing to be ashamed of in the manner of our meeting, then people will forget all about those rumors about the Blue Duck.”

  “Oh come, you can’t really believe that Dalton believes that tripe?”

  “Why would he lie to me?”

  “Why indeed!”

  “No, John, he is convinced that this is the case. You don’t know him as I do. He is a sincere man.”

  “If he does believe that nonsense about people forgetting, then he’s as motivated by wishful thinking as you are.” John sighed. “Perhaps he is that fanciful. Perhaps that explains your fascination with him. I can see now it takes a man with a dreaming nature to inspire your interest.”

  “I don’t think he is a particularly fanciful man.”

  “He must be. Running away from reality just as surely as you do.”

  “I do not run away from reality.”

  “You are always dreaming of this other, better world.”

  “I do things to bring that better world into being.”

  “Yes, well, tell me about that better world after you have watched half a city die of fever and find you can do nothing to stop it.”

  John was always reminding her of how naïve he thought she was. There was some truth to his accusations. Emily had lived a sheltered life, held firmly under her grandmother’s thumb until the yellow fever had taken the old woman’s life the autumn just past. She drew herself up. “Yes, John, you seem to forget that I nearly died in that fever.”

  He seemed to lose some of his color and he placed a hand to his chest. “How could I ever forget that? I was the one who doctored you through it.”

  Emily stiffened.
“I know that. I am eternally grateful to you for saving me, but that doesn’t give you the right to dictate to me or to disrespect me.”

  “How am I disrespecting you?”

  “By speaking to me as though I were a witless child.”

  “I never meant to suggest any such thing. I simply wish you’d take a firmer grasp on reality.”

  “I know what reality is. I also know that a vision of something better can help bring something new into being.”

  “Of course, have your dreams and your crusades; I would hate to ever see your heart hardened. However, when it comes to gentlemen, you need to keep a sane head.”

  “I have a sane head.”

  “Dalton runs from reality in his travels, his many women—You realize, of course, the man is a consummate womanizer?”

  “He has a more interesting past than most other men, yes, I know this.”

  His mouth fell open and he blinked at her several times. “More interesting? Is that how you term it? I hear he could put many a degenerate European nobleman to shame.”

  “It is in his past,” she said with firmness.

  “He may be consumed with you at the moment, Emily, but there will be other women. You may count on that.”

  A little catch of pain blossomed in her chest, as though he’d insulted her by insulting Alex with such a mean-spirited prediction. “You do not know him as I do.”

  “You are hiding from the truth. You have become a scandal.”

  “You needn’t sound so scathing in your disapproval. And in any case, your worry over all this matter is unwarranted. No one has barred their door to me.”

  “Emily, Dalton is wealthy, fabulously wealthy. Through his brother James’ work, he has a hand deep in the pockets of every politician and influential merchant in this city.” He chuckled wryly. “Of course no one is barring their door to you—yet.”

  He uttered that last word in a tone so sharp that she flinched. She had shared the news of her engagement as a matter of trust. Because she wanted to share her happiness with a friend. Why couldn’t he just be happy for her? Instead, he was determined to be cross. Disapproving. She didn’t want to hear another word. She crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin. “Are you quite done?”

  “You had better give him reason to marry you, be a little stingy with your person, before the novelty of you becomes stale for him and you have no power.”

  His bluntness made her jaw drop. “John!”

  “Right now, people are choosing to look the other way. It is only because of Alexander Dalton’s wealth and social standing.”

  “Again you speak to me as though I were witless.”

  “Listen to me, Emily—if he were to put you aside, no man of a decent family could take you home to present you as his bride.”

  She knew what young man of decent family he was imagining. She turned and offered him a smile as thin as a reed. “I understand, John, I am not that naïve.”

  But, really, none of this mattered. If Alex didn’t want to marry her, then she wanted no one else. She had never planned on marrying at all. She had goals in her life aside from being some man’s wife. She didn’t care what others thought of that. She could support herself through her art. Already she was improving her skills with lessons. Her teacher had said that she was one of the most naturally talented students he’d ever worked with. The artist and naturalist Mr. Peale himself had agreed with that judgment.

  Marriage seemed to be bondage for all the women she’d observed. She’d already lived with a type of bondage, living all the years of her youth under Grandmother’s domination. Grandmother had attempted to control how she practiced her art. Husbands wanted wives who devoted themselves to hearth and home. A husband might very well attempt to control how she applied her artistic skills and how much time she might devote to it. He might even forbid her to draw and paint at all.

  The very thought made her shiver.

  Yet the threat of physical force exerted to control her frightened her a lot less than if that man employed the type of emotional coercion Grandmother had used. Especially if Emily loved him.

  Who wanted to live with that kind of intimate oppression?

  The worst thing? One could never know a man’s true nature until after a marriage. Emily had heard it from women time and again: men hid their true selves until after the glow of the honeymoon period had faded.

  But Alex would never limit her artistic expression. He would never prevent her from using her skills to bring attention to the causes that were important to her. She just knew this about him. That trust made him the only man she would risk marrying. She had tried to explain all of this to John before but he had only laughed at her and patted her head.

  He wasn’t laughing now.

  “Why are you so determined to think so poorly of him?”

  “I have heard so many frankly disquieting things about him. He is not a… Oh, shall I put it in terms you will hear? He is not a constant man — and I don’t mean just in the way of fidelity to a woman. I mean he wavers in all his interests; he seems to have no goals in life.”

  His boyish face was so earnest that she paused and warmth blossomed in the center of her chest. Fondness wiped away her anger and indignation. John was really a dear; he was genuinely concerned for her. She reached up and touched his cheek. “You’re very sweet to worry about me but I shall be fine.”

  “There is a gap in his history. Years where no one knows where he was or what he was doing. He will not speak of it. That seems very dishonest to me. A man who hides his past cannot be an honorable one. He will not honor your engagement. You must be prepared for that.”

  Emily dropped her hand and laughed with a catch in her throat. “John, John, please… No more of this, please.”

  “Well, I guess what I am trying to say is that I will not be able to bear seeing you hurt by this man.” John took a loud inhalation then let it go. The corners of his mouth were down turned, creating deep lines on either side. “And he will hurt you.”

  “He would never hurt me. Not willingly.”

  “Then why does he delay?”

  ****

  Alex left his bedchamber and found Emily in the corridor. She smiled, showing small white teeth against her full red lips.

  His whole body seemed to become invigorated with the most pleasing kind of sensation. It wasn’t carnal, at least not wholly. It was joy just to be near her.

  Her sherry-brown eyes lit and she ran to him, her dark curls bouncing.

  He opened his arms and she threw herself against his body. The force of her impact sent his heart rate galloping. He put his hands on her waist and gripped her, then pressed her slender frame harder against himself.

  She laughed and tilted her head back. He adored the juxtaposition that her slightly oversized nose made with her otherwise delicately etched features. For some reason it always held a sort of irresistible carnal appeal to him. He kissed the tip of her nose and she laughed. He bent and pressed his cheek to hers and rubbed his recently shaven face against her softness. She smelt of cold air and sunshine.

  Warmth entered his heart, chasing away all the coldness of his doubts. He only doubted himself when he wasn’t with her. When she was in his arms, how could he question the power of his love for her? It was so strong, so real—surely it would keep all the demons at bay.

  And yet, he couldn’t explain why he kept putting off the public announcement of their engagement. Why he wouldn’t set a date with her for the marriage. At least not an explanation that any man would feel comfortable with. He only knew that he felt a nameless, impending doom hanging over their heads every time he contemplated setting a final date to wed her. As though making the wedding date final would spell the end to their love—or worse.

  He couldn’t bear to lose her. Not now.

  She was studying him with concern that was just beginning to put troubled shadows over her happy expression.

  He forced a smile. “I missed you last night.”r />
  “I waited up.”

  “You were asleep when I came to your chamber.” He allowed a measure of approbation to enter his voice.

  “Oh but Alex, I tried to stay awake.” She looked so contrite it hurt his heart in a strangely bittersweet, perversely pleasurable way.

  He did adore teasing her. She was still naïve and softhearted enough to be teased quite often. He laughed fondly then put his lips to her forehead, briefly. “I didn’t think James would ever let me go. He kept nettling me with one petty detail after another that must be discussed.”

  “He was trying to keep you from coming home.“ She made a fierce little frown. “He knows that you come to me at night. He hates me for it.”

  “He envies me, sweetheart, that’s all.”

  “He despises me.”

  “He’s simply young and very absolute in his views.”

  Two weeks ago, Alex’s brother James had moved out to his own domicile in protest at Alex having Emily in the house. James did not approve of Emily and her middling-sort background. James was a dreadful prig and always had been. He couldn’t help it and Alex didn’t hold it against him. At least he’d had the good taste to remove himself from the house.

  Emily sighed.

  “What?” Alex asked.

  She looked up at him through her lashes. “I missed you, too.”

  The heat of her gaze called forth a surge of blood into his loins.

  “You were sleeping so peacefully, I couldn’t bear to wake you.” He ran his hand caressingly over the curve of her waist then bent to kiss her.

  He pressed his lips to hers far more lightly than he desired. He lifted his head. She arched her neck back and gazed up at him, her eyes grown a darker, amber brown, and her lips blood-red and slightly parted. A rapid pulse beat in her throat.

  Hunger pulsed through his loins.

  His back still burned from her scratch marks the previous afternoon. God, she was so divinely sensual. He could take her all night long, make her come and come again. She was the first woman who had ever been able to fully sate him, to exhaust him.