“You’ve outdone yourself,” she said as she reached the picnic blanket.
Vaughn flashed a brilliant smile as he climbed down from the window seat. They both stood beneath the kissing bough now. Outside the snow glittered on the lawns, painting a pretty winter picture that made her heart leap.
He nodded at the bit of greenery that would no doubt lead to something very wicked. “Care to put it to use?”
“I think that’s a wonderful idea.” She stood up on tiptoe to curl her arms around his neck. At the same moment he lifted her up by the waist and kissed her. His lips were soft yet gentle as he explored her mouth. Perdita gave in to the exquisite taste of him and the heat of his body. He made her forget her worries. Surely that made him perfect.
When their lips parted, he stared at her in wonder.
“What is it?”
“You.” He brushed the backs of his knuckles over her cheek. “Even after what Milburn tried to do to you, you can stand here and kiss me. You’re astonishing.”
A flutter of panic rose in her at his words. Did he think her wanton or unaffected by last night?
“Whatever you are thinking, stop,” he said. “What I meant is that few women would be as brave as you to even be alone with a man after what happened.”
She lowered her gaze to the floor. “What happened to me... That doesn’t make me weak. It doesn’t make me less.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “You are strong. You always have been.”
She raised her gaze to his, hoping she would see no condemnation in his eyes.
“And that strength makes you astonishing.” He feathered his lips over hers in a light, sweet, tender kiss that made her knees weak. For a man who claimed he could not love, he could kiss like one who loved more than the most romantic of poets.
“Would you like to sit down? We may have our picnic, even if it is a little bit late.” Vaughn helped her down on the blanket and began to serve the cold cuts and the fruit he’d brought up from the kitchen.
“Vaughn, when we are married, are we to move into your townhouse?” she asked. It was strange to think she was to be married so soon, to the Devil of London, no less. It was equally strange to think that the ton had favored Milburn as a gentleman and condemned Vaughn in the same breath, yet society couldn’t have been more wrong about both men.
At least my devil is really an angel in disguise.
“We could, unless you wish to move to a different residence.” He answered carefully, his words measured. “I’ve had to close up the country estate.” He didn’t say it, but she knew what he wasn’t saying. That he wouldn’t use her money to reopen the estate unless she allowed him to use her money for such a purpose.
She took a drink of her lemonade and looked at him.
“Last night when you spoke of Edward, I sensed you were unhappy. I want you—us—to be happy. What if we used some of my dowry to open up your country home? If we are able to fill your tenant farms again, we could have some success at creating a sustainable estate. I admit, I prefer the country to London and would enjoy living in the house where you grew up, if you wish.” For them and the children she hoped would come. She had never been interested in children before, but when she looked at Vaughn and pictured children with his golden hair and blue eyes...she wanted them desperately.
“If you don’t mind, I would like that. But I assure you, once my investments with Lennox bear fruit, I will restore the money we used to your accounts. People will talk, of course, when we move to the estate. They’ll say my marrying you was only to improve my family’s name and my circumstances.” Heavy regret layered his tone, and it softened her heart even further.
“Let them talk.” She met his gaze. “It is nothing we haven’t heard said of a hundred others. You and I know the truth of what lies between us.”
She pushed her plate off the blanket and held out a hand to him. The afternoon sun from the window bathed them both as they sat next to each other on the floor by the window seat.
Vaughn placed his hand in hers, and she pulled gently on his arm. He raised his brows in a silent question. She grinned. There was one thing she wanted more than anything right now. Him. She knew he would have to be tempted after everything that had happened, and she would do whatever she must to convince her gentlemanly rogue to claim what was his. She wanted to erase the bad memories here and cover them with new ones. But more than that, she wanted to be with Vaughn. Not because she wanted to get over Milburn’s attack, but because she’d wanted Vaughn before, before all this had happened.
I will not let Milburn take my happiness or my passions from me. I can love and make love without his specter haunting me.
“Tomorrow we are to be married. You have been the perfect gentleman, but I don’t want a gentleman right now. I want you, my dangerous rogue, to do what you do best. Seduce me.”
His blue eyes darkened, and he crawled over to her as she lay back on the blanket.
“Are you sure? After...” He hesitated, afraid to say the word.
“What Milburn tried to do will not define me, and it hasn’t changed how I feel about you.”
His lips twitched in a wicked fashion. “Anyone could come in and see us,” he warned as he leaned over her prone body.
“They could. But everyone is busy preparing for the dance tonight. Since I’m not allowed to dance, I would much rather be here with you right now, like this.”
His wolfish grin made her heart skip. “A wicked lady for a wicked lord—I do believe we are perfectly matched.” He unbuttoned his waistcoat as she helped him remove his shirt. She flattened her palms over the smooth, sculpted planes of his chest and the corded muscle of his stomach. She clenched her thighs together as a wave of heat rolled through her lower body.
“I want to strip you out of that gown, but we cannot risk it.” He lowered himself on top of her. She tucked her skirts up, and he settled between her parted thighs. He stroked one hand down her right leg, playing with the ribbons of her garter. Then he slid his hand between their bodies, touching her between her thighs. She jolted at the press of his fingers. She was so aroused, so ready for more, that she tensed against the slight intrusion.
“It will hurt a little,” he warned. His eyes blazed with a fire that echoed her own body, and she nodded.
“I know, but I want you.” She lifted her hips in encouragement, and he began to kiss her lips and her throat before she felt him fumble with his trousers and shift above her. Something hot and hard nudged at her entrance. She tightened her legs on his hips, trying to draw him closer.
“I am ready,” she whispered against his mouth.
Vaughn thrust. In one blinding moment of pain, she welcomed him into her body, and he stilled above her, his breathing hard.
“That’s it, darling. Breathe with me.” He kissed her gently as he began to rock inside her.
The pain blurred into something different, something sharp, yet not painful. It was a building pleasure. He moved his hips, pulling in and out of her more quickly. The sensation was almost too much to bear. Her breasts ached as they pushed tightly against her bodice.
“Vaughn, it’s happening again.” Her body burned all over like it was kissed with fire. His lips captured hers, his arms braced on either side of her shoulders. He rose above her, all muscle and power. Yet there was no fear, only pleasure as it ripped through her. She cried out against him and he joined her, harshly cursing as they both went limp.
Every muscle that ached from last night’s ordeal was now relaxed. She couldn’t have imagined that making love would be so calming once it was done.
“How do you feel, darling?” Vaughn asked, his blue eyes touching upon her face as he searched her gaze.
She sighed and lifted her head, kissing him. “Wonderful.”
“Just imagine how much better it will be on a bed, when I can take hours exploring you, my mouth and hands touching secret places on your body.”
“Hours?” Lord, she couldn’t fathom that.
“Hours,” he repeated in a low whisper. “And it will make you so exhausted you won’t be able to leave our bed.”
Our bed. Those two simple words wrapped her heart in a cocoon of warmth.
“We could stay here,” she whispered. “Forget dinner and the ball. Let’s stay right here.” She ran her hands up his arms, relishing the way his muscles felt beneath her fingers. The sunlight created a wild halo of gold as it hit his hair, and she ran her fingers through the burnished strands. The ruby stone of her ring gleamed a dark blood red, like a pulsing heart.
“Is that what you desire, to hide away? Not that you need any excuse after what you’ve endured. We’ve plenty of books, but we shall need more food. I’ll get dressed and go down to the kitchens, shall I?”
“Yes, please.”
He pulled away from her, and they both straightened their clothes. She helped him button his waistcoat, and then he left her alone. She settled into a window seat, her body languid. She could stay here just like this for an age, watching the sun glint off the snow in the gardens. Fresh snow. They’d had more early this morning.
She studied the snow, then leaned carefully against the glass to get a better look. There were footprints...leading right up to the windows of the house one floor below. None of the servants would be outside, not so close to the house. But who would be prowling about in the snow, peering into windows? Only one name came to mind.
Milburn.
He was still here. She would have to tell Vaughn.
Chapter Eleven
Perdita stared at the steps leading down to the coach that would carry her to the small church in Lothbrook. She couldn’t ignore the flutter in her belly. In a few hours she would be wife to the Devil of London.
“I cannot believe you are getting married!” Her best friend, Alexandra Worthing, stood next to her, a puzzled look on her beautiful face. “Nor can I believe who you are marrying.”
Once the rest of society heard the news, she knew she would be flooded with letters from all of her friends and acquaintances, desperate to hear how such a match came about. It would be exhausting to tell everyone.
For a brief moment, she considered reaching out to Lady Society, the infamous mystery woman who penned gossip columns in the Quizzing Glass Gazette. That might be a way to tell London the story in a way that would allow Perdita to enjoy her honeymoon without an endless deluge of inquiries.
“I know. But it feels right,” Perdita answered. She shifted her bouquet and finally addressed the unspoken tension between her and her friend. “Are you angry with me? For marrying Darlington? I know after what he did, kidnapping you, that you must despise him...”
Perdita swallowed whatever else she had planned to say. In some ways, Alexandra probably viewed Vaughn the way Perdita viewed Milburn, though Vaughn had never planned on forcing himself on Alex. It had all been for show to win a wager. But she felt she was betraying Alex somehow by marrying him, and the thought was breaking her heart.
“I...” Alex glanced down at her boots. “I am surprised, I admit. I didn’t think he would be good enough for you. I’m still not convinced he is, but if you love him and he loves you...”
“He does,” Perdita said, though she wasn’t sure it was true, at least not yet.
“Then that is all that really matters, not what I think of him.” Alex tightened her cloak and held out her hands to Perdita in a way they’d always done as girls. It was a sign of friendship, a sign of trust. Perdita grasped her hands, the bouquet caught between them as they stared at each other.
“It is your wedding day,” Alex said with a broad smile. “And our husbands are good friends. Today is a happy day.”
“It is,” Perdita agreed. “Darlington and I are so happy you came.”
“Of course! I had a letter from your mother the moment you told her of your engagement. I’m only sorry we weren’t here sooner. Worthing would have helped Darlington drag that bastard out into the snow and drawn his cork!”
“Alex!” Perdita tried not to laugh at her friend’s bloodthirsty words.
Alex pointed one booted foot in a ladylike way. “He deserves far worse,” she grumbled.
“Yes, he does.” For the tenth time that day, she glanced around but saw only her footmen and the coach. It didn’t take away the sense she was being watched. She’d told Vaughn yesterday of her fears that Milburn hadn’t returned to London. He had vowed to keep a vigil on her at all times, and it was only with her insistence that he even agreed to leave her to go to the church first.
“Come on, Perdy, we mustn’t delay.” Alex took her arm, and they walked down to the coach and climbed in. Her father came out of the house and joined them, grinning.
“Nothing like a Christmas wedding, eh?” he asked.
Perdita smiled back. What a wonderful day to be married.
VAUGHN FELT THE WEIGHT of his pistol tucked securely into a pocket of his cloak as he walked up the steps of the small gray stone church. Greenery hung over the doorway and covered many of the pews that lined the aisle leading to the altar. Many of the villagers of Lothbrook were waiting in the pews, wearing their finest Christmas clothing. Everyone had come, it seemed, to witness the wedding.
My wedding. He smiled a little as he removed his cloak, careful to keep the pistol secure as he handed it to his valet, who took it to the front row near the altar and set it down. It was his only protection in case Milburn decided to show up. After Perdita confessed she’d seen footprints outside of the house alongside the windows, he feared Milburn was still somewhere in the village waiting for them.
He’d tried to calm her concerns, but the truth was Perdita was more correct in her fears than she knew.
His butler, Mr. Craig, had arrived the day before with news. Mr. Craig had used his cunning and his contacts from days before to track down Darby’s investment partners. After making some inquiries down by the docks, he ransacked their offices during the night and found a couple of hidden ledgers, dating back to several years prior to Darby’s involvement. No doubt whatever falsified documents Milburn possessed had used these as their template, with the dates changed accordingly.
Craig had taken the documents to the local magistrate, and the investment partners involved had been taken into custody for further review. Milburn no longer held any power over Perdita, fabricated or not, and the scandal that had broken over London would inevitably ensnare the vile man and ruin his reputation as well. Milburn would be out for blood.
“Stop fidgeting,” Ambrose muttered in his ear. “Don’t want the bride-to-be to notice you’re afraid.”
Vaughn swallowed a laugh. When his best friend, Ambrose, had arrived with his new wife, it had been a blessing that Vaughn had never expected. He had almost destroyed their friendship by kidnapping Alex to win a wager. For his friend to be here today, on his wedding day... A thousand words were on the tip of Vaughn’s tongue, but he was too ashamed to speak any of them.
“All will be well,” Ambrose said, as though he could read the pain and regret in Vaughn’s heart.
“Thank you,” he whispered. Ambrose nodded, smiling.
The vicar, in his Christmas vestments, waited beside Vaughn. They both stared at the door, listening for the rattle of a coach on the cobblestones, the one carrying his bride-to-be.
“Worried she’ll run?” The vicar, a man in his early twenties, chuckled. “Don’t be. I’ve known Miss Darby since I was a lad. There’s nothing that will stop her when she wants something. And from what I hear, she wants you.” The man’s eyes twinkled, and Vaughn relaxed.
She did indeed want him, just as he wanted her. The previous evening, he and Perdita had spent hours in the library, reading to each other and making love. It was worth the risk of being discovered to show her how proficient he could be. And she had been perfect. Wonderfully perfect.
And now he would join his life to hers before God. For the first time, he understood the strange condition his friend Ambrose had fallen prey to.
Lov
e—love brought on by sheer joy. He never would’ve imagined he would feel this way. Not after the heartbreak of his brother’s death.
The doors opened, and Perdita came into the church wearing a white silk gown. It was simple but elegant, just as she was. She bit her lip as she walked toward him, and he realized she was trying to hide a smile. Mr. Darby led her to him and kissed her cheek before he took his place in the front pew.
The vicar began the ceremony, and Vaughn struggled to hear the words of the vows and sacraments. All he could think about was how he’d bared his soul to this woman beside him and how she had worked her way into his heart with her cleverness and sweetness. His life was now divided into life before her and life with her.
At last he was given permission to kiss her, something he did without hesitation. She giggled against his lips, and they moved to the vestry to sign the register. Then he took his cloak from his valet and she took hers from her maid, and they prepared to meet their guests on the steps of the church.
Mr. Craig stood close by, his cool eyes and weathered face taking in the quaint scene of the Christmas town. Vaughn nodded at him. The older man appeared haughty and aloof to most, but to Vaughn he was a trusted ally, and he was glad Mr. Craig had been able to attend the wedding.
“Are you ready to go?” Perdita asked, eyes bright with mischief.
“I am. Quite ready, that is, to get you flat on your back on a bed.” He whispered this so that none of the guests around them could hear.
“Wicked man!” she chastised, but her cheeks had already flushed. He couldn’t help but notice how her breasts pressed against the bodice of her gown as she inhaled. Soon he would be exploring every bit of her body with intimate pleasure.
Vaughn was so lost in thoughts of his honeymoon and the coming feast he was distracted as they left the little church. People gathered around them, shaking hands and congratulating. It wasn’t until the crowd thinned Vaughn realized something terrible was unfolding.
Samuel Milburn stood in the cobblestone street, disheveled and wild. He stared at them on the steps.
Unwrapping a Rogue: A Christmas Regency Boxset Page 12
