by Gaelen Foley
Her tears had stilled, and they both were calm now. He petted her hair as they lay together, deeply moved by her vulnerability, her innocence. He had never felt closer to any living being than to her in that moment. He loved her patience, her kindness, her clarity, her humor, her unpretentious simplicity…
As he cuddled her in his embrace, he paused to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear.
“I will love you all my life,” he whispered, then he sealed his vow with a soft kiss on her forehead, and watched her until they both drifted off to dreamland.
CHAPTER 15
Mt. Netherford
They had not meant to fall asleep, but given the vigor of their continued activities throughout the night, Felicity supposed it was understandable. She dozed with her head resting on Jason’s chest, her fingers gliding over the smooth, muscled contours of his chiseled abdomen. She savored the luxurious sense of contentment in his warm, strong arms.
Thoroughly ravished, she felt so safe with him now. She could not bring herself to leave. She had stayed all night, and it was risky, of course, to tarry any longer. By all rights, she shouldn’t even have been there at all. But his arms around her made her feel as though nothing bad could ever happen to her—to either of them, as long as they were together.
Besides, he did have his system for spiriting certain guests in and out of Netherford House unseen, the rogue.
When a longcase clock in the hallway began to toll the hour, she listened intently and counted seven muffled bongs.
Good. His servants would be up now and well about their day, so she probably couldn’t avoid them, but they already knew she was there, anyway. As for his neighbors, she had no doubt that she could hie off home before the fashionable denizens of Moonlight Square even stirred.
Lulled by the slow, peaceful rhythm of Jason’s breathing, Felicity smiled at the rakish nature of her own thoughts, planning her stealthy escape after last night’s secret tryst.
Perhaps it was inevitable that after all the time she’d been spending lately with the Duke of Scandal that she should start showing signs of scandalousness herself.
“Jason? Are you awake?” she whispered, lifting her head to gaze at him.
“No,” he mumbled, eyes closed.
She smiled and shifted positions, rolling back to brace herself on her elbow. “I could tickle you awake.”
“I don’t advise it.”
She started to drag a featherlight touch down his stomach, but he flicked his eyes open and grasped her hand.
“How now, naughty miss?” he scolded with a throaty chuckle as she let out a mock shriek and tried halfheartedly to fight her way free. “You’d better be careful or you’re going to wake up more of me than you bargained for, love.”
She feigned a pout as he rolled on top of her. “See? I knew you were awake.”
His gaze softened with great tenderness, his dark hair tousled, his eyes full of devotion. He stared down at her before lowering his lips to hers for a lingering kiss. “Good morning, beautiful,” he whispered.
A small sigh escaped her. She could not help but glow at such a sweet greeting from the man she adored. She wrapped her arms around his lean waist. “I missed you.”
“I’m starving,” he said.
“I’ll bet. You worked up quite an appetite last night.” She bit her lip on a smile full of mischief.
“So did you!” he retorted in a scratchy voice. Then he lifted himself off her and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, pausing to sit there for a moment, stretching his neck and shoulders. “Come on. Let’s go get some food.”
He stood, and Felicity sat up, holding the sheet to her chest. “Go where?”
“Downstairs. Morning room.” Gloriously nude, her soon-to-be husband shuffled across his chamber to the bathing room for his morning ablutions.
Distracted by the lovely sight of him, it took a moment for his answer to sink in, then she gasped. “Jason, I can’t go down there!”
“Why not, darling?”
She whimpered with embarrassment and pulled the sheet up over her nose, hiding all but her eyeballs. He laughed.
“It’s all right. We’re all adults here.”
“Can’t you just have them bring the food up here for us?”
“Do you know how big this house is? Nobody likes cold eggs, love. Here. You can wear this down to breakfast.” He grabbed a dark blue satin dressing gown off a peg on the wall and tossed it to her.
“You want me to wear this in front of the servants?” she asked dubiously, examining it.
“Don’t worry, sweeting, nobody’s going to care. It’s not like they don’t know what we’ve been doing in here. Besides, I can’t face all those buttons of yours until I’ve had my tea. Contrary to appearances, I am not actually awake yet.” With that, he ducked into the bathing room and shut the door behind him.
Felicity pursed her lips, weighing the matter with uncertainty. At length, she concluded that the staff had seen much more shocking things than this, and knew better than to gossip about the future lady of the house.
Besides, she’d be leaving soon, anyway.
When Jason returned, she was out of bed and had donned his dressing gown. The only thing she had on underneath it was her chemise.
“You’re sure none of your neighbors can see into the morning room?” she asked, tying the cloth belt around her waist and taking care not to step on the hem, for it was quite long on her.
“Stop worrying,” he reassured her as she passed him, taking her turn in the bathing room.
“I don’t know why I let you talk me into these things.”
“Because you’re such a good, obedient, little— Ow!” he cried with a laugh as she reached up and grasped his ear for that rascally remark, pulling him down to her like a naughty schoolboy.
“Obedient, am I? Say it again, please, Duke,” she taunted sweetly.
“Darling, you are as biddable as a tropical typhoon.”
“Humph. That’s better.” She freed the rogue to let him put on at least a few items of clothing. He pulled on a pair of loose linen Cossack trousers and, shirtless, donned a burgundy-colored banyan, which he left hanging untied.
She eyed his bare chest in possessive pleasure. He really was much too good-looking for any woman’s peace of mind.
When he was ready to go down to breakfast, he took her hand between his own and whisked her out of his chamber, leading her stealthily to the backstairs. After all, the servants might know she was there, but she did not really wish to face them if she didn’t have to. From there, they sneaked down to the first floor and dashed across the central corridor to the very pleasant morning room at the back of the house.
The morning room had pale yellow walls with arched windows, through which the clear morning sunshine streamed. Beyond those windows lay a charming view of the sculpted garden and the quaint elevated walkway crossing above it.
Since the morning room sat right next to the kitchen, the food would indeed arrive hot when it was brought to them. They sat down at a round table with cottage-style chairs. A selection of morning newspapers had already been procured and lay waiting on the sideboard, but Jason showed no interest in them, and Felicity was glad. She loved having his undivided attention.
When his old cook, Hannah, came in personally to ask what she could make for them, Felicity was suddenly seized with embarrassment about her brazen choice to spend the night with Jason, flouting all propriety. Oh, of course, the lower orders did that sort of thing all the time, she supposed, in their private lives. But granddaughters of marquesses were supposed to hold themselves to higher standards of behavior, even when they could get away with being slightly wicked.
On the other hand, Aunt Kirby would’ve been as pleased as punch that she had finally done something truly scandalous.
In any case, Felicity dropped her gaze and resorted to murmuring demurely that she’d be glad to eat whatever was put in front of her.
The plump old cook couldn’t
have been kinder; indeed, Hannah was the soul of discretion. She clearly doted on her handsome young master and seemed eager to spoil them both.
Before long, Hannah carried in the large tray by herself. When still no other servants entered, Felicity realized the cook was going out of her way to spare her modesty—or what was left of it.
Deeply appreciative of the considerate gesture, though surely it was too much for one servant to do all by herself, she thanked the woman profusely.
Hannah set the teapot and covered dishes down before them. “It’s no trouble a’tall, milady,” she murmured, glancing from Felicity to Jason and back again, as though she could barely contain her exaltation over their pending match. “Is there anything else I can get for ye?”
“Thank you, we have everything we need, Hannah,” Jason told her with a smile, and Hannah left them alone to eat.
“She’s wonderful,” Felicity whispered after the cook had gone.
He nodded. “Hannah’s topnotch. She’s always taken good care of me, and I warn you now, her cooking is addictive. So, what’ve we got here?” He lifted the lids on the various dishes and started to serve them while Felicity poured the tea.
It wasn’t easy, considering her hands had only just stopped trembling after having to face a near-stranger who knew full well that she had just spent the night in the Duke of Scandal’s bed.
Jason must have noticed she was just a wee bit rattled, for he struck up an idle conversation, probably to distract her. “So what have you got planned for today?”
“Oh…I’m not sure. You?”
They chatted about nothing in particular while he finished heaping their plates with eggs and toast, sausage and beans.
Felicity removed the lid from the dainty sugar bowl but paused with the tiny silver sugar tongs in midair. “How do you take your tea, anyway? This is essential information for a lady to know about her future husband.”
“Maybe I should make you guess,” he said with a grin.
“You are in an especially roguish mood this morning, aren’t you?”
“Feeling my oats,” he admitted with a wink. “But that’s your fault.”
“Do you want sugar or not?” she insisted with an arch look in return. “Tell me quickly, or I’ll put whatever I want in and make you drink it anyway.”
“As long as you sweeten it with a kiss.” He leaned across the table and stole one.
But even as their smiling lips met, a sound from the direction of the entrance hall broke into their warm, playful bonding and stopped them both cold.
The front door creaked open and promptly banged shut.
“Anybody home?” a deep, strong, cheerful, and all-too-familiar voice called. “Ho, Netherford! I’m back!”
Jason and Felicity jolted apart with a gasp and stared at each other in shock for a heartbeat.
Woodcombe ran past the morning room doorway to the entrance hall as fast as his old legs could carry him. “Major Carvel! H-how very fine to see you, sir! His Grace will be so—surprised.”
“Will he? Good!” Peter said in a jovial tone, audibly clapping the old butler on the shoulder, which might have sent him flying across the entrance hall. “I just stepped off the ship half an hour ago. We docked in the Thames and I came straight here. Next stop, Great-Aunt Kirby’s. Must let my sister know I’m still alive.”
“Er, yes, sir,” they heard Woodcombe say.
Felicity sat motionless. With her stare locked on her lover, she found just enough of her voice to choke out a terrified “Oh my God.”
“It’s all right,” Jason forced out in a low tone, but the color had drained from his face. He rose to his feet and took a few steps toward the open doorway, then stopped in the middle of the room, as though debating with himself.
“Go shut the door!” she whispered. “He’ll kill you if he finds us!”
“I don’t want to lie to him!” Jason whispered back, looking distraught, while out in the entrance hall just a few yards down the central corridor, the thump of a heavy pack landing on the marble floor informed them that her brother was fully prepared to make himself at home in his best mate’s house.
“Well, don’t just stand there, Woodcombe,” Peter ordered Jason’s butler. “Go and wake the blackguard! I don’t care how many whores he’s with. If he can drag himself away from them, I daresay the esteemed patron of our expedition will be pleased to hear he’s now got a mountain named after him. Get up, you lazy sod!” Peter hollered cheerfully up the grand staircase, unaware. “Damn me, I’m starved. Something smells delicious! What’s Hannah got cooking this morning?”
“Er, Major!”
The familiar pounding of her brother’s boot heels striking the floor, coming ever closer, made Felicity consider hiding under the table. But thankfully, as Peter headed for the kitchen, a bevy of servants ran past the doorway of the morning room to intercept their friendly intruder and try to turn him in a different direction.
At least three footmen and a few maids gathered, and by the sound of it, they arrayed themselves in a defensive line across the corridor, barring Peter from going any farther.
She could hear them trying to act like they were merely happy to see him.
“M-Major Carvel! You’re back!”
“We’re so glad you’re safe.”
“Your trip must’ve been very exciting, sir.”
“D-did you make any new discoveries?”
“Did you get to see wild elephants?”
Despite their valiant efforts to distract the returning adventurer, Jason and Felicity were still stuck in the room, unless they fancied jumping out the window. There was nowhere to run, no place to hide, and when Jason glanced grimly at Felicity, she realized he did not intend to try.
“This is stupid,” he said in a taut voice. “I’m not going to lie to my best friend.”
“But he won’t be your best friend anymore if he finds the two of us like this!”
It was too late, though. Peter had already smelled a rat in the servants’ odd behavior.
“What’s going on, you lot?” he asked suspiciously.
“Please don’t do this,” Felicity begged Jason in a helpless whisper, but the duke stood strong and called firmly to his servants, “It’s all right! Let him in.”
“Netherford?” Peter called cheerfully, sounding all the more confused. “What, he’s already awake—at this hour? Astounding.”
“Morning room!” Jason yelled back.
The servants must have parted to let her brother pass. Felicity braced herself, standing behind the breakfast table, wearing naught but her chemise, her shiny new engagement ring, and Jason’s dressing gown. This she drew tighter around herself, as if it would help to shield her from her brother’s certain wrath.
She knew how bad this looked, and stood there mentally cursing herself. What if finding them this way knocked Peter back to how poorly he’d been doing before? It would be all their fault.
Out in the hallway, she could hear him brush past the well-meaning servants with a good-natured scoff.
Jason lifted his chin and squared his shoulders, then suddenly, there he was, her beloved big brother. The tall, rugged adventurer, suntanned and scruffy-jawed, with eyes matching the blue-green of her own.
He stepped into the doorway of the morning room wearing the same brown leather coat in which she had last seen him, except now it was worn and weather-beaten.
“Jason, your servants are acting damned strange…” he started, but his words trailed off as he spotted Felicity standing there. His bronzed face turned white.
She swallowed hard, trying to hide her dread. “Peter,” she greeted him with a nod. “Welcome home, brother.”
“What the—” He grabbed hold of the lintel and took a step back as though he had been punched in the stomach. For a second, he stared at her incredulously. “What are you doing here?” The words had barely escaped him when he realized the obvious answer to his own question. “Oh my God.”
“Pet
er—” she started.
“You!” Looking sickened by the realization, he turned murderously to Jason, his eyes narrowed to slashes. “What have you done to my little sister?”
# # #
It was actually pretty clear, though, Jason thought. Especially considering that the well-ravished beauty was wrapped in his dressing gown, her golden hair flowing loose around her shoulders, her face still glowing from their long night of love play.
Jason stood acutely aware of his own state of undress. He had pulled his trousers back on, thank God, but not his shirt. Instead he wore his banyan open down his chest and was too proud even to close it.
The time had come to own up.
To all of it.
Pete’s stunned gaze took in the scene before him, traveling over the two of them standing guiltily together with their eggs getting cold on the table between them.
“How could you?” he uttered as his stare returned to Jason in furious accusation. “You son of a bitch.”
“Easy,” Jason started, but the military man newly returned from the wild was used to solving problems the simplest way. He reached for his pistol and pointed it at him.
“Peter, no!” Felicity cried, rushing over to stand in front of her brother’s gun, her arms lifted. “It’s not Jason’s fault!”
“Oh yes, it is. Get behind me, you little hussy,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m taking you out of here.”
“You think I need rescue? Peter, by all that’s holy, put the gun away! Have you taken leave of your senses? He’s your best friend—and we’re in love!”
At last, her brother looked dazedly at his hand, as though barely aware of having drawn the weapon. The breath left his flared nostrils in seething fury, but he lowered the pistol to his side.
When he looked at Jason again, it was with daggers in his eyes. “I told you to stay away from my sister. Is this why you sent me away? So that as soon as I set sail, she’d be left unprotected and you could have your way with her?”
