She shouldn’t have stirred. Luke sat up beside her, sleepy-eyed and handsome, the glow of the fire creating a dancing shimmer on his black locks.
‘What is it? Does something pain you?’
Her heart.
‘No.’ She sniffled and blinked hard. ‘I was thinking of tomorrow.’
‘Were you?’ He touched her cheek to turn her face towards his. ‘What about that has you in tears? Tomorrow will be grand.’
‘How can it be?’ She pulled her chin from his grasp and forced her gaze around the room as she searched for the right words. Nothing she could say would change the wretched circumstances. She should tell him the tender emotion she held precious in her heart. ‘I love you.’
His brows slanted low and his mouth twisted with a quizzical expression.
Could it be he’d never received the words before?
He leaned in, so close their mouths almost touched. ‘And I, you, my love.’ He pressed his lips to hers with the reverent confession. ‘I spoke to your father a few days past.’
The abrupt change of subject caught her interest. ‘Did you?’ She hardly waited half a second. ‘What did he say? Why did you seek him out?’
‘I’ll explain it all while we travel back tomorrow morning. In the meantime…’ He slid from the sheets, much to her surprise, and retrieved his greatcoat from the floor. One side sagged with the weight of the pistol but he seemed more interested in the inside breast pocket. Whatever he searched for was not cooperating and a look of exasperation replaced the anticipation of only a moment before.
She didn’t mind watching his muscles flex. Her wickedly handsome thief, dressed only in his smalls before the hearth in her bedroom, presented no inconvenience at all.
‘This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.’
She gave a vigorous nod in agreement. ‘I know. I’ve felt that way ever since I learned of the codicil.’ Her murmur was overridden by a short string of expletives.
‘Clubs, spades…’
‘What’s the matter?’ She giggled.
Flustered, he fought with his coat, patting each pocket in a frantic search. And then, he stilled. A smile turned his lips and that heart-stopping dimple demanded notice. He walked towards the bed and something he held caught a flash of firelight. At the edge of the mattress he took her hand and slid a betrothal ring on her finger.
‘Diamonds…’ he said, his voice low and husky. ‘And hearts.’
His kiss took them back to the pillows. Their loveplay took them beyond.
Chapter Twenty-Five
For someone who feared change, nothing was the same once Georgina and Luke returned to London. Her engagement met with shock and delight, although her father’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction and peace, a condition she had not seen there in as long as she could remember. Her mother launched into an accelerated state of wedding planning and her sister thrived in the restored order of things.
There was, of course, one disturbing event which threatened to mar the newly discovered bliss on Hemlock Street, and they were all in the drawing room when the visitor happened upon their continued celebration. Lord Muller entered and met with severe disdain.
‘Lord Harwood, I would have a word.’
Georgina watched as her cousin speared her father with a meaningful stare that spoke far more than his request for a private conversation. Luke took a step nearer and his fleeting touch to her elbow spoke a thousand words. It served as the perfect balm, as though an entire universe existed in that brief gesture, a world of meaning or perhaps a world of promise.
No one else moved.
‘Whatever needs to be said can be spoken in front of the family.’ Her father returned Muller’s fierce regard and Georgina’s heart swelled. Never had she seen her father behave so adamantly. The means which prompted him to defy the codicil and embrace Luke’s proposal would need be explained later, but for now, she merely waited with awe.
‘Is that so?’ Muller stepped closer, perusing Joy and Georgina with a glower, as if he visited a museum, examined the antiquities on display and found the exhibit lacking. ‘I would have thought you’d prefer my use of discretion.’
‘Keeping secrets and hiding the facts of my brother’s will has accomplished disharmony and strife.’ He paused and eyed Georgina. His loving glance reassured he regretted his decisions of the past. ‘Speak, Nephew. Say what you need to say and then leave us to our celebration.’
For the briefest moment, Lord Muller appeared nonplussed. A tinge of anxiety appeared in the clenching of his jaw and his eyes narrowed a fraction. His flummoxed state caused great delight to Georgina. It surely did for all her family, Luke included, but she stood quietly in unison of his next statement. ‘A celebration?’
‘Yes.’ Her father’s expression sobered. ‘Are you here to enforce the codicil? You have wasted your time. No longer will you lord it over me.’
‘The codicil is gone. Stolen, I believe.’ Muller choked out the words as they most likely lodged in his throat.
Joy squeaked a delighted sound that was soon quelled by a meaningful glare from her mother, and Georgina had the impulsive desire to turn towards Luke and beam with happiness, but she kept a tight hold on her reaction, not wishing to indicate even a trickle of assumption.
‘Then there is nothing more of which to speak.’ Harwood approached, confident Muller could no longer threaten, blackmail or influence his family, and oh, the maddening pleasure to be out from under Uncle’s thumb. ‘Joy is free to choose a husband of choice and Georgina is already successfully matched. I will conclude by noting any financial support your father provided our family no longer warrants attention. We wish you the best, Nephew.’ A more exacting and excluding message couldn’t be phrased. Her father had successfully informed Muller of their independence, resentment and impending marital intentions, with two brief sentences. Bravo.
‘And you have no knowledge of what happened to my father’s document?’ Muller had recovered from his short span of silence. ‘I will pursue this with a solicitor.’
‘To what end?’ Harwood almost smiled with the words. ‘I have everything to gain if you do so.’
The unspoken and implied ending to that sentence sang in Georgina’s mind. She knew her father had made his decisions from necessity, not emotion. And too, she knew well how thoroughly she was loved.
‘See yourself out.’ Her father gestured towards the door. ‘We have begun a private celebration and plan to continue.’
The room remained still, fraught with intangible tension, but in the end Muller turned on his heel and stomped off like an unrepentant child.
Relief, expressed in a variety of ways, Georgina’s favourite being the tight embrace from Luke only moments after, overwhelmed the room and replaced her cousin’s intrusion.
It was too many hours later when she finally achieved a moment with Luke alone. She’d gone upstairs to change her clothes and prepare to travel to the Hewitts’ home for a modest dinner party. Nate awaited his father’s return and, according to Luke, the child was anxious to be reunited with Georgina. How fulfilling and invigorating to not only become a wife, but a mother by a mere trick of fate.
No one had pursued, out of curiosity or any other source of inquisitiveness, the whereabouts and disappearance of the codicil. Like a sacred incantation unwilling to interrupt, the subject was avoided with succinct and deliberate care.
Now, with the rest of the house dispersed to their private endeavours, she re-entered the drawing room to find Luke with his back turned, his attention on the fireplace where her father’s portrait hung above. She came to a silent pause. Love swelled in her chest. This wonderful, handsome man, a man whose kisses threatened to melt her into oblivion, would soon be her husband. He’d rescued her and salvaged the pride of her family. And together they would soon form their own family. She could never repay the deep debt.
She stood in the doorframe, a sigh of pure contentment escaped and she wondered at how, when life had seemed its b
leakest, she’d arrived at this moment, admiring the man she would marry, tall, strong and protective, her traitorous pug happily reclined at his boot heels.
Held by intense considerations, Luke remained unaware of her admiration. He reached into his breast pocket and removed a folded paper, glanced to her father’s portrait over the mantel for a long pause, and added the page to the flames in the hearth. She noticed his shoulders heaved up and down in release of a long-drawn breath. Was it relief or tension that prompted the action?
The paper ignited and turned to ash under his watchful eye, and then, as if he was at last prepared to acknowledge her, he turned slightly, just enough for a sidelong glance, one black slash of brow arched in question as to how long she’d watched and why she hadn’t approached.
She didn’t pause a second longer.
‘What are you doing here? I thought perhaps you were down at the stables, preparing a carriage or checking Snake Eyes. I know how protective you are of those who mean the most in your life.’
It was the perfect thing to say, the words straight from her heart to his.
‘I’ve already seen to matters.’ He drew her forward, flush against his person, so close she could feel his heat through the linen of her gown, smell his divine shaving soap, the observations tinder for the anxious yearning she failed hopelessly to discourage. When would they make love again? Would she always feel this way, completely dependent and utterly euphoric at the thought of his attention? Good heavens, she hoped so.
‘What were you doing when I entered?’ She ascertained she knew, deep in her heart, before she’d ever entered the room, but it was far too much fun to let it lie as motionless and complacent as her pug at his feet. And much like Biscuit, who’d at last relented and befriended Luke, she had a streak of deviousness that wished to tease him anyway. ‘Did you toss something into the flames?’
His arms tightened in the strong, wicked, delicious way of which she’d grown so fond. ‘Nothing of importance.’ He placed a kiss to her hair, his exhale warm against her temple. ‘Time to forget the past and embrace the future.’
‘Quite literally.’ She snuggled closer to his chest and rested her cheek against the beat of his heart. She was right where she wanted to be for the rest of her life.
Epilogue
Georgina leaned in and placed a gentle kiss to Nate’s forehead. He slept soundly, the counterpane tucked to his round chin and pernicious pug nestled near his pillow in slumberous echo of his new master. Thank heavens Biscuit had taken to the energetic pup, much to the chagrin of Luke, who had tried everything in his power to persuade Nate to choose another breed before promptly surrendering to his son’s pleading. Lucky wasn’t half as much trouble as Biscuit, the tiny brown dog exuberant and obedient, although the two animals made quite a team when they barked in tandem.
A sigh of utter contentment whispered out as Georgina rose from the mattress and snuffed the bedside candle. She turned to discover Luke watching from where he stood within the doorframe, an unabashed look of adoration in his eyes.
‘What is it?’ A blush heated her cheeks and warmed her to the core. She stepped lightly across the room and met her husband at the threshold. ‘How long have you been there?’
‘Long enough to enjoy The Goose-Girl and The Frog King or was it The Ladybug in Waiting? It is a veritable gift to fall asleep while someone reads a soft-spoken story.’
She didn’t need to comment on the bald truth of that fact. Her husband’s path was stained with an assortment of memories, not at all the idyllic childhood they wished for Nate. Luke’s observation rang with sincerity, whether a memory from history or lack of the same. Too many children shivered to sleep in dank corners of Charing Cross, parentless, friendless, with no puppy atop a pillow and soft bed. Her heart squeezed with the harsh reality and she placed her hand in Luke’s as they silently moved down the hallway.
And while there was no turning back the clock, she looked forward to the future. Her palm settled on her stomach where she kept the best secret. What would her extraordinary husband say when he learned he would become a father again in a handful of months? What would their child look like? Georgina hoped for dimples, as deep and darling as the two cherished men of the household.
‘What has you grinning like a Cheshire cat?’ They entered their shared bedchambers, ignoring the custom of separate quarters, the additional rooms of their Portman Square townhouse prepared for guests. They hadn’t spent a night apart since their marriage and Georgina never planned to experience a different arrangement.
‘You’re not even looking at me. How can you tell?’ Her words sang with joy, revealing the truth and condemning her question as unnecessary.
‘You’re always smiling.’ He walked to the ribbon-back chair beside the bureau and began to undress. A ritual of which she would never tire. She settled on the corner of the mattress, her eyes bright and attentive in the shimmering lantern light. ‘Besides, it is my privilege to know, to protect and cherish you.’ He discarded his shirt to the seat cushion as he continued in a low, husky tone. ‘To ensure you are happy every day forward.’
The force of her love thudded hard in her chest, and too, her fingers trembled a bit at the news she waited to impart.
‘There’s something I must tell you.’ Her words came out in a conspiratorial whisper though she couldn’t be prouder or more delighted. She glanced down to the quilt and traced the intricacies of the stitching with her fingertip while she waited for his reply.
‘Indeed, this must be serious. I’ve quite enjoyed undressing for you. Your rapt attention makes me randy. But this may be the first time since we’ve married that you’ve dropped your eyes. Have you tired of me already?’ His teasing tone encouraged her smile to return, wider this time.
‘Never, dear husband.’ She looked up to find him bedside. His bare chest a breath away, his silver-grey eyes as sharp as ever. ‘Ours is a timeless love. Love that knows no beginning or end, all encompassing, for eternity.’
‘Then what has you so reticent? I’ve never seen you so, my straightforward and determined governess. My wife.’ He drew her up so they stood nose to nose, their breaths melding in anticipation of what their bodies would soon do abed. ‘Am I to be scolded for something? Have I not kissed you as often as you wished?’ He tapped her gently beneath the chin, raising her face and eyes to his attention. Then, after a scalding flare of the eyes, he lowered his mouth to hers.
‘Wait.’ The one word escaped before his lips settled. This wasn’t how she’d planned to share the news, with Luke so close and her emotions near anxious. She’d never find the words if he began kissing her because kissing led to all types of delicious activity in bed. She would then have to wait until tomorrow and she was quite thoroughly finished waiting for anything. Except their expected babe.
‘I have fallen out of favour.’ He frowned and began a familiar mutter. ‘Clubs, spades, diamonds…’
She laid her fingers across his lips before he completed the phrase. ‘I love you, Luke Reese.’
‘And I, you, Georgina Reese.’ His smile returned, though his eyes still held a question. ‘My heart is full of love for you.’
‘Perhaps there’s room for a little more.’ Her mouth crooked upward, unable to manage the happiness that leaked to the surface. ‘A wee bit at least.’
‘Not at all.’ Suspecting something was awry, he reassured, unaware she played a game. His stare grew more heated and he leaned all the closer. ‘I love you with my entire being, wife. Our souls are forever intertwined.’
‘That is true, of course.’ She huffed a breath and reclaimed the space needed for conversation. ‘But I’m sure you could spare room for a smidgeon more love.’
‘Not one iota. I promise you. Not even a dash.’
His insistence left her flummoxed. She’d anticipated telling him of the baby and he seemed determined to reassure her of an imagined insecurity. She knew how well he loved her. It lived in the beat of her heart.
‘We
ll then, you best love me a bit less so you have ample heart for our child.’ She took his hand and guided it to her abdomen, laying his palm flat beneath hers, pressed against her belly.
His whole body quieted, so motionless she wondered if he breathed, as if by remaining still he could hear, feel, know the child already growing in her belly. And then…
‘Georgina, my love.’ He swallowed audibly and lifted his hand to stroke a finger across her cheekbone. ‘I didn’t imagine happiness could be mine. I already have more than my share with you and Nate in my life. I believed I couldn’t possibly be any more complete, my life brimming already, stolen from someone, somewhere else.’ He paused and pulled her forward, his mouth near her ear where he traced kisses to the delicate skin, nuzzled her neck and murmured words of loving endearment. ‘But as you’ve done from the moment I looked into your bewitching blue eyes, you’ve taught me a lesson I’d yet to learn. Love knows no boundaries. Love is infinite in your arms.’
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INTO THE HALL OF VICE
Chapter One
Cole Hewitt eased lower on the velvet-backed bonnet chair and angled his hips a fraction to the right. Circumstances were glorious at the moment, not at all like the reality of his lacklustre existence. Especially here in a quality establishment like Lady Eliza’s House of Pleasure. Granted, Eliza was no more a lady than Cole was an earl, but the pleasure part couldn’t be truer.
And that was why brothels existed, wasn’t it? To help men ignore the harsh truisms of daily living until forced to bear the brunt of their decisions. Although harsh wasn’t the correct word. As one of the proprietors of an exclusive London gaming hell, he’d established wealth and respect at the early age of twenty-four. Along the way, he’d obtained a fine apartment, purchased several superior thoroughbreds, and honed his pistol skill to crack shot at no less than thirty paces, all within three years.
The Last Gamble Page 25
