by Gaelen Foley
Such bandying about of her name had made him feel like he’d swallowed a tiger, and it was clawing from inside him to get out and tear them all apart.
Meanwhile, Sidney and the rest of his friends and neighbors from Moonlight Square gaped at Jason in utter astonishment. They exchanged several glances, looked around at the clubroom he had half destroyed, and despite a few of the men being even more bloodied and bruised than he—perhaps they were too drunk to care—they finally started laughing.
“What?” he nearly howled at them in rage.
“Well, well! Can it be?”
“Has somebody finally overthrown the great seducer?”
“Aye, she’s conquered him,” someone in the back said.
“Netherford wants Miss Carvel for himself!”
Even Sidney stifled a short bark of laughter.
“I’m warning you,” Jason panted with a glare full of wrath.
“Yes, I think you’ve made your point, Your Grace,” someone huffed.
“All in favor of blackballing Netherford from this club, say aye,” one of the older gents announced, scowling at Jason for his utter breach of decorum.
“Now I’m sure that’s not necessary,” Rivenwood hastened to protest before they could start the vote.
But Jason ranted on, ignoring his only certain ally in the room. “Blackball me? I’m not the one speaking filth about an innocent young woman—making sport of her virtue! How dare you discuss this lady in such a fashion? You’re not worthy of her, none of you! You’re dirt beneath her feet, and if you ever even look at her again, I’ll put a hole in every last one o’ you bastards!”
“God, man, you’ve got it bad,” Sidney said, shaking his head at him in shock.
“Must be he’s already bedding her,” one of the cardplayers said sagely.
“No!” Jason uttered, aghast that this rumor should start going around.
“With her brother away, who’s to stop him?” someone in the back murmured.
“Ah, damn. Netherford hardly needs the Kirby fortune,” one said with a jealous frown.
“So, how was she, Netherford?” Fortescue baited him. “Did she cry when you plucked her little cherry?”
He lurched toward the feckless fool, but Rivenwood held him back again.
“Easy! That will do, Your Grace,” Rivenwood said through gritted teeth, shoving him firmly toward the door. The pale-haired duke held the rest of them at bay while steering Jason toward the exit with a hand planted on his shoulder. “Let it be, you lot. You know Netherford is a longtime family friend of the Carvels. He’s known the girl since she was a child and obviously regards her as a member of his own household. So I suggest you mind your tongues. I daresay you’re lucky Major Carvel isn’t here. Otherwise, he’d probably kill the lot of you.”
“And I’d second him!” Jason barked as Rivenwood pushed him out the door with an exasperated “Enough!”
Outside, it was raining hard. Jason’s clothes were instantly soaked, his hair plastered to his head. Actually, though, he welcomed the downpour. The cold dousing helped to calm his fury and clear his mind.
Rivenwood stayed under the eaves, sensible chap, and left him alone for a moment. “You all right?” he called at length over the drumming of the rain on the pavement.
Jason grunted and paced a bit, then turned to him. “Thanks.”
The mysterious, platinum-haired duke shook his head. “I hope you were planning on marrying that girl. Because if not, you do realize you’ve just destroyed her reputation?”
Jason went motionless. “I’m not the one that made that filthy wager!”
“Oh, it wasn’t your intention to make every man in that room believe you’ve already staked a claim on her?”
“But I…” He faltered.
“A mere friend to a lady doesn’t react like quite that much of a lunatic, Netherford. At least that’s what the world is going to think. Then there’s your own unique reputation to consider. Your past history?”
Jason leaned his forehead against the nearby lamppost and groaned. Bloody hell, he thought as a shred of sanity started to return. Enough, at least, for it to sink in, what he had just done.
His club mates’ wager over Felicity had been bad enough, but at least they had been discreet. His sudden attack of insanity had been anything but.
Rivenwood was right. It seemed the Duke of Scandal had struck again. By morning, this tale was going to be all over London. And the ton would draw its own conclusions, based on his past behavior.
They would surely conclude he was already engaging in a dalliance with the ravishing Miss Carvel.
And, let’s be honest. They’d be right.
God. Despite his best efforts to stay away from her over the past few years, so that everything would be proper and correct between them, his outburst in there had just encircled Felicity in scandal.
And there was only one way to fix it.
He was still slightly in shock as Rivenwood shook his head at him. “I’ll see what I can do.” With that, the elegant, enigmatic duke went back inside to try to smooth things over on his behalf.
Dazed, Jason turned to stare into Moonlight Square, the rain running down his face, dripping off his nose, and moistening his lips like Felicity’s sweet kisses.
I have to warn her. I’ve got to tell her what I’ve done.
She was not going to be happy about this.
Or maybe she would, on second thought. But whether she was or wasn’t, now they had no choice.
Careful what you wish for, sweeting.
Already soaked to the skin, he did not bother avoiding puddles but clomped right through them. Shoes squishing, he marched into the dark streets…
Off to go and get himself a wife.
CHAPTER 12
Scandal’s Darling
Though the ball had ended and the servants had gone to bed, Felicity was still wide-awake after all the excitement. She could not possibly have fallen asleep in her joy over the progress she had made with Jason tonight. The driving rain beating on the windowpanes and the rumbles of thunder moving over the city only added to her restlessness, so she crept through the house and went out to sit on the covered side porch.
Curling up in a cushioned wicker chair, she drew her legs up to her chest, crossed her arms atop her bent knees, and tucked the white linen of her long night rail around her. She was enjoying watching the rain from her cozy spot beneath the shelter of the porch roof. She rested her chin on her crossed arms and savored her memories of dancing with Jason at the ball. She chuckled as she recalled his rascally ploy for stealing the waltz from her expected partner.
I knew all hope wasn’t lost.
As the spring rain pounded upon the open portion of the terrace, watered the garden, and blew through the trees, she smiled also to know that she wasn’t the only woman who had triumphed tonight.
Mrs. Brown had gone to an after-theater party at a friend’s house with Cousin Gerald. It had taken all of Felicity’s self-control not to laugh outright when, upon stepping out of the Grand Albion to wait for their carriage to take them home, her chaperone had nervously turned to her and, in hushed tones, asked her permission to go out, looking rather scandalized at herself.
Felicity had encouraged her to go and have fun. Lord knew the woman had every right to become a merry widow after so many years of being a sad one. So, the newly fashionable Mrs. Brown had gone dashing off with her younger man, while Felicity had ridden home in Lady Kirby’s town coach by herself.
It was now nearly two in the morning and Mrs. Brown still had not come home. Felicity suspected she would not see her until tomorrow morning. My, my. What she and portly Cousin Gerald might be doing right now, Felicity did not want to know. She shuddered at the thought.
Just then, she spotted the lone figure of a man walking down the street. At this hour? she thought, bemused. In the middle of a rainstorm?
Hmm. Must be drunk.
But the man didn’t move like a drunkard. In fa
ct, as her stare homed in on the tall, solitary figure, she detected something familiar about the way he walked, tromping through the puddles like a master of the earth.
Whoever he was, she hoped he didn’t see her sitting outside in her night rail. She had not expected to encounter anyone at this hour. She believed she was pretty well out of view in the shelter of the porch, as long as he didn’t look her way. She squinted in his direction, wondering if she ought to go inside.
Fortunately, he seemed too well dressed to be a robber. Even from this distance, his black and white formal evening clothes were easily discernible, though these were surely ruined by the rain.
When he passed by one of the streetlamps lining her genteel Mayfair lane, she saw that his cravat hung undone, his midnight hair was soaked through and dripping—
She gasped with recognition and shot to her feet.
Jason!
He vaulted over the waist-high fence around her garden and landed with a squish.
Dread gripped her. Something must be wrong. Good God! Was there news of her brother? Had Peter’s ship sunk?
As he began to march across the garden toward the terrace and the porch, Felicity walked over to the edge of the shelter, her heart pounding.
“Jason? What are you doing here?” she called in a shaky voice as loudly as she dared. “What’s happened?”
He stopped, as though she had startled him out of his own dark musings.
“Oh,” he said, pausing awkwardly. “You’re awake. Good.”
“Yes, I-I couldn’t sleep after the ball. My brain wouldn’t be quiet.” Shaking her head, she brushed off the small talk. “Jason, why are you walking the streets of London in the rain at this hour? What’s wrong?”
He let out a wet sigh, blowing raindrops off his lips as he drifted over to the edge of the slightly elevated terrace; standing in the grass, he was still tall enough to rest his elbows on the wide stone balustrade around it.
Felicity remained beneath the shelter of the porch and folded her arms across her chest. “Jason, please, you’re scaring me. You’re acting a little mad.”
He gazed at her for a long moment in misery from across the distance between them.
“I can’t take it anymore,” he finally said in a low tone. “I have to be with you.”
Her eyes widened and her heart lurched with astonishment.
“I love you,” he said with an air of defeat, barely audible beneath a rumble of thunder and the drumming of the rain on the flagstones. He shook his head, holding her shocked stare. “I do. You were right all along. I can’t fight it anymore. I’ve tried the best I can. Your brother’s just going to have to shoot me if he doesn’t like it. Because there’s never been anybody else for me but you. Not really. It might have looked otherwise on the outside, but the truth—”
She didn’t let him finish, rushing across the wet flagstones to him in a few swift strides, heedless of the rain instantly wetting her head and shoulders, and the small puddles splashing under her bare feet.
Standing on the terrace above him, she planted her hands on his broad shoulders and leaned down across the balustrade, kissing him square on his warm, wet lips.
He tilted his head back and cupped her nape, accepting her kiss with fiery need. “Oh God, Felicity,” he whispered after a moment as the rain coursed down his face. “I want you so bad.” He gripped her shoulder and looked up into her eyes. “I cannot live without you anymore. I won’t. You win…just like you always knew you would. You have to marry me. I need you.”
She stared at him in tender amazement.
With an air of desperation, Jason kissed the hand she had pressed to his face. “Please don’t choose right now to punish me for being an idiot, even though I deserve it—”
“I don’t want to punish you at all. I love you, too, Jason. You know I always have.”
He closed his eyes, shivering a little. “You have no idea how much I needed to hear that tonight. Could you say it again?”
“I love you,” she repeated, leaning closer to breathe the words twice more in his ear.
Then she pulled back a little and studied him, mystified. “Am I dreaming, or did you just ask me to marry you?”
“It was more of an order, actually,” he admitted.
A fond smile flashed across her face. “Of course it was.”
“Well? Would you please answer the bloody question?”
“Hmm…an order?”
“Felicity!”
Laughing, she put her arms around him. “Of course I’ll marry you, you big dunderhead. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. Don’t you know that by now?”
He gazed lovingly at her, smiling at her taunts. “I suppose I do.”
She humphed. “It took you long enough.”
“Forgive me,” he whispered.
“Of course I forgive you, my darling.” She took his face between her hands and kissed him gently again, stunned, indeed, overwhelmed with emotion to think he would truly be hers, at long last.
“Are you all right?” he murmured, caressing her arms, when he felt her tremble.
She nodded, blinking away faint tears of joy. “You know, I would say I’m glad you’ve finally seen reason, but I’m not entirely sure the phrase fits, considering we are standing in the rain. Um, what are we doing out here? Besides getting wet, of course.”
He sighed. “It’s a long story.”
“Well, come into the house, you silly man. You’re soaked to the skin. We should probably get you out of those wet clothes.” She gave him a naughty little smile and ran her fingers through his dripping-wet hair.
He moaned as she leaned down from her higher position on the terrace, playfully drinking the rain off his cheeks. She kissed him all over his face.
“Why must you tease me, Felicity? I’ve wanted you for so long. This is just torment,” he breathed as she clung to him.
“Come inside,” she whispered, nuzzling his face with her nose, “and I’ll give you what you want.”
He pulled back a little and stared at her, looking slightly frantic at her invitation. “We should stay out here, sweet. If we start, I don’t know if I’ll be able to hold bac—”
“Hush.” Daring him with a defiant stare to try to stop her, she climbed up onto the stone railing, then over it, and into his arms.
Jason clutched her to him, kissing her with wild passion as she wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, now as drenched with rain as he was. He pressed her back against the stone ledge of the terrace while his tongue swirled in her mouth. His body throbbed against hers, and the chilly rain turned to steam where it touched their fevered skin.
“Please let it be tonight,” she whispered between kisses. Then you can’t change your mind about this.
“Are you sure that’s what you want? Are you ready for me, Felicity?” he ground out, pinning her against the stone wall.
She clutched him harder, thrilled to her core by his sensuous growl. She stared into his eyes. “I’ve been ready for you for a very long time, my love.”
He kissed her again in savage hunger, pausing only to watch where he was going as he carried her up the stone steps and back into the shelter of the porch. There he set her down on her feet, his stare devouring her as it moved down over her body.
“So beautiful,” he whispered hoarsely. She followed his gaze as he let it travel slowly over her, taking in the sight of her rain-dampened night rail clinging to her body, her erect nipples visibly darker through the semitransparent cloth. She groaned when he touched them, and then he bent his head to lick a water droplet running down her chest.
She was shaking with desire when she took his hand a moment later, looked at him without a word, and led him into the house. Both caught up in their intense awareness of each other, Jason shut the door quietly behind them and locked it, while she went and retrieved the small, punched-copper lantern she had left burning on the pier table as a night-light.
She picked it up to let its dim g
low show the way and turned to him, lifting a finger to her lips—and then to his—to signal for silence.
We mustn’t wake the servants, she told him with her gaze. He captured her finger in his mouth, seducing her where they stood with one of his devilish stares. Unable to resist, she stepped back into his arms and began kissing him once more.
Fearing they’d never make it to her bed but succumb to their passion right here in the hallway, she ended the kiss, shaking her head at him in blushing exasperation.
Come on! she mouthed at him. The blasted stairwell was not where she intended to lose her virginity.
He feigned a chastened look of obedience, his dark hair falling across his brow. She looked at him and wanted to kiss him all over his wonderful body, but she bit her lip and found her patience with a sigh. Then she led him by the hand as they tiptoed upstairs to her bedchamber.
He left wet footprints and small puddles as they went, evidence of their misbehavior, but she was past caring. It was her house, her life, her body, to give to whom she willed.
Besides, he was to be her husband.
Still reeling from his proposal, she fetched a couple of towels from the closet on the way, already fantasizing about how he’d look naked.
When they arrived at her chamber, Jason locked the door behind him while she set the little lantern on the chest of drawers. She paused to make sure the curtains were firmly drawn across the windows, and when she turned around to face him, she found him still leaning with his back against the door.
He gazed at her, looking just a wee bit overwhelmed by what was finally happening between them.
Felicity did not intend to give him the chance to go all virtuous on her again, as he had tried to do that lovely afternoon in the parlor. She brought the towel over to him and lifted a corner of it to his face, blotting away some of the rain. She wasted no time in drawing his untied cravat off his neck and parting the top of his shirt to touch his muscled chest.
“I love your body,” she murmured.
“Likewise, my lady.” But he caught her hand and stopped her caresses. “There’s something I have to tell you first, though.”
