Her mind seemed a million miles away as she danced a country dance with Lord Gregory, all the while thinking of her short but eventful courtship with the unconventional Lord Danford. The dance seemed to go on forever, but it finally ended and Lord Gregory began to escort her back to her aunt’s side. She searched for her Aunt Miranda in the crowd and rose a curious brow when she noticed her conversing with a dashing looking gentleman.
As they approached, both her Aunt Miranda and the gentleman turned and Gillian gasped. That dashing gentleman was none other than Lord Danford. Her mouth hung agape as her eyes perused his entire person. His hair had been trimmed and styled fashionably, while across his broad shoulders stretched a dark dress coat that fit him not only properly, but splendidly. His snowy white cravat was tied expertly in the mathematical, enhancing his strong, tanned jaw. Her eyes dipped to his finely cut waist coat made of brocade before taking in his tan breeches, which she was disappointed to note, were not indecently tight, though the fit was undeniably fashionable. His overall appearance was simple yet elegant; Beau Brummel himself would be proud.
When her eyes returned to his face, he smiled, took her hand in his and kissed it. Gillian’s heart almost stopped as she continued to stare at the most handsome man in London, and he was all hers. “I missed you terribly, my lady.”
When Gillian failed to reply, Aunt Miranda interjected, “I can attest to the fact that she missed you dreadfully as well. I think she is rendered speechless by you catching her unaware this evening. We weren’t certain when to expect your return.”
Lord Danford laughed as he tucked her arm into the crook of his elbow. “Are you certain it’s not my vastly improved appearance that has gotten her all tongue tied?”
“It could be that,” Aunt Miranda said with a smile of her own.
When Gillian finally found her voice, she managed to ask, “Where have you been?”
Lord Danford patted her hand. “I will explain everything shortly. Come, stroll with me.”
Gillian let him lead her around the outskirts of the room before exiting and leading her to the library. She looked at him questioningly as he locked the door behind them. “Lord Danford, I do not think this is wise.”
He stalked to her and looked at her with a hunger that mirrored her own. “Are you afraid I will seduce you?” he asked, his voice thick with desire.
“I’m not afraid,” she said boldly.
Lord Danford put his hand behind her neck, cupping her head in his palm as he pulled her face to his. Just before his lips met hers he whispered, “I promise not to seduce you, at least entirely, until we are wed.”
Gillian wanted to call him a liar as his lips molded over hers, igniting a heated passion within her. Her hands went under his dress coat and around his waist where she began tugging at his shirtsleeves in an attempt to pull them free from his breeches.
Lord Danford pulled back suddenly, taking a step away from her as he began to right his clothing. “Now, now you little vixen, that is not why I brought you here.”
Gillian’s cheeks heated at his words, for she had been so caught up in the moment she hadn’t fully realized what she had been doing. “I do not think it wise for us to be alone, my lord.”
Lord Danford grabbed her hand and led her to the sofa. “You are correct, and I assure you that this will be the last time that we are before our wedding, but what I have to tell you tonight needed to be said in private.”
It amazed Gillian how quickly her emotions changed from passion to curiosity. “What is it, my lord?” she asked as she searched his smoky eyes for a clue.
“Let me preface what I am about to say with an apology.”
“An apology? Whatever did you do to warrant an apology?”
His gaze was riveted on her face as he admitted softly, “I have lied to you, Gillian, and I am very sorry for that.”
Gillian was confused. “But what could you have possibly lied to me about?”
“That’s a heavy question. Allow me to start at the beginning. Do you remember the night of the dinner party at Lord and Lady Cantrell’s?”
“Of course.”
“Do you remember how Lady Cantrell talked about the pranks that Lord Straton, Lord Dawkins, Mr. Graham and I would pull in our youth?”
Gillian smiled, “Yes, I remember very well.”
“Well as you can surmise, we have a long history of pulling pranks on each other. Our childhood pranks soon evolved into bets that were nearly impossible to resist. We began betting each other to do outlandish things in the name of entertainment and whoever was issued a wager was forced to comply.”
“Or else what would happen?” Gillian asked with interest.
“You would be labeled a coward.”
“Heaven forbid!” She exclaimed mockingly as her hand went to her breast dramatically.
Lord Danford chuckled, “To arrogant youth, that is a fate worse than death, I can assure you. Not only was our honor at stake, on occasion we would also blackmail one another into compliance. Anyway, almost immediately after I returned to London, my friends issued a wager challenging me to woo any lady of their choosing to fall in love with me and agree to become my wife.”
A sinking suspicion formed in Gillian’s belly but she tampered it down, listening intently as he continued.
“There was however a twist, I would have to be disguised as an unfashionable half-wit as I attempted the feat.”
It took a moment for his admission to sink in, but when it did, Gillian was furious. “You are meaning to tell me that this entire time you have been merely disguising as a fool?” Her eyes roved once more over his new, expertly cut clothing.
“Yes,” he admitted truthfully, simply. “But I promise you that was the only thing I lied about, I never once lied about my feelings towards you, not once.”
Gillian reeled back in shock as his words hit her like a slap to the face. She didn’t know why she hadn’t realized it before. “I was the lady they chose for you to woo? Your interest in me was nothing more than a desire to win a challenge issued by your crackbrained friends!”
Lord Danford attempted to pull her into his arms but she broke free from his grasp. “Do not touch me.”
“Gillian, please let me finish. There is more.”
She looked at him, her lower lip trembling. “I’m not sure I can handle hearing the rest. I do not wish to hear how I have been the source of your entertainment for the last several weeks.”
Lord Danford tilted her chin with his hand, forcing her to look at him as he said earnestly, “Please, hear me out.” Gillian responded by sitting in silence, her eyes averted, though he kept his hand on her face, forcing it to remain up.
“First off, let me assure you that I would never have agreed to the bet had Lord Straton not leveraged something of far greater importance to me than my honor. He threatened to tell my mother about my father’s affair and the resulting bastard child if I did not comply. So you see, I only went along with the preposterous plan to save my mother from finding out the truth, a truth that would have left her devastated and would have forever tainted her memory of my father. I did not wish to defile her loving memories of her relationship with my father in such a way.”
Gillian wasn’t sure what to think. When the resulting silence threatened to drive her to madness, she finally blurted out the thought that was most prevalent in her mind, “Some friend Lord Straton is to threaten you with such a scandal. What a horrid man.”
“Yes, I thought so as well. But Griffin came to me when I found out the truth, and he promised me that he had never meant to tell my mother my father’s secret whether I lost the bet or not. He only threatened me that he would do it to get me to comply to the terms of the wager.”
“What do you mean, when you learned the truth?”
Benedict leaned back against the sofa, propping one foot on his thigh as his hands went behind his head. “Gillian, I never anticipated for things to get so complicated. That first night I met you, at th
e Trenton Ball, was the night my friends chose you as the intended target—I had to attempt to make you my bride. They thought it would be impossible for me to woo a diamond of the first water. I myself was just relieved that they had chosen a beautiful lady for me to court.”
“How very shallow of you,” she snapped.
“I know, for I should have known above anyone the value of character over appearances. But before you get all disappointed in me, you should realize that I was complimenting you. Gillian, the minute I laid my eyes on you I thought you the most beautiful woman in the world, and as I got to know who you were on the inside, I realized that your beauty was far more than just an outward thing. I fell in love with you not simply because you are breathtaking, but because of what’s here,” he placed one of his magnificent hands on her chest above her heart and her breath hitched.
“Gillian, I love you and that is why I do not want there to be any secrets between us. I was elated the night your father gave me his permission to wed you and could not wait to share the good news with you—”
“But then you disappeared,” she accused. “You never even came back inside to tell me that you had found Anthony or that we could be wed.”
Lord Danford searched her face and she could sense a trepidation in him that she hadn’t noticed before. “My love, I do not delight in what I have to tell you next, but it needs to be said. Before I tell you, however, I need you to give me your word that you will never reveal the information I share with you to another living soul. And once we have finished discussing it this night, you need to vow never to speak of it again. Do you understand?”
“Your solemnity is frightening me,” she admitted. “What could be so serious to warrant a vow of silence?”
“Just trust me, please,” he urged as he took one of her hands into his own.
Gillian stared at their interlocked hands. Despite all the things he had revealed that night, oddly enough, she did find that she trusted him. “Very well, I agree.”
Lord Danford exhaled in relief. “The reason I left your house that night was because of Anthony.”
“Whatever did that peep-of-day boy do now?” Gillian exclaimed with exasperation, for she knew firsthand what a troublemaker her brother could be.
“He didn’t do a blasted thing but smile at me and make polite talk.”
Gillian scrunched her eyebrows together. “But I do not understand.”
“And you won’t unless I explain myself. Several years ago, nearly eight to be exact, I overheard a conversation with my father and his lover discussing the child that he had fathered with her during their brief affair. I was devastated at the revelation, for I had always believed that my parents loved each other very much. The child, a son to be precise, was named Anthony.”
Gillian inhaled sharply as she pulled her hand free from his. “Surely it is just a coincidence.” Her mind refused to believe what he was telling her.
“I thought so too, but when he smiled at me, his face revealed the exact same dimple my father had, right here,” he pointed to his cheek, just under his eye, to show her the spot, but he didn’t have to, for she remembered Anthony’s dimple well. “I asked your brother his age and when he told me that he was eight, I just knew.”
“But there is always the possibility that you could be wrong, correct?” Gillian asked frantically. She could not even begin to wrap her mind around the possibility that her mother had had an affair with Lord Danford’s father and that Anthony was both of their half-brother.
“No,” he stated firmly.
“What do you mean no?” her voice was on the verge of hysteria. “There are plenty of young boys with the name of Anthony, and certainly a dimple is not a unique feature.”
“The reason for my sudden departure the other night was because of this revelation. I had to find out for myself if it were true. I went to West Sussex, to Penwitch House, and I confronted your mother so I could learn the truth of the matter for myself.”
“And?” she asked with the last shred of hope she could muster.
“Anthony is, without a doubt, my father’s son.”
Gillian collapsed into Lord Danford’s arms. It was more than she could bear.
***
Benedict held tightly to Lady Gillian, knowing full well the range of emotions she was experiencing at that precise moment. They were the same emotions he had experienced when he had first learned of Anthony’s existence—anger, betrayal, shock, and pain. He rocked her slowly in his arms as his hands soothingly rubbed the bare skin between the top of her gloves and her sleeves.
“It’s alright love, just let it all out,” he urged as she cried into his cravat.
After several minutes she pulled back and wiped her eyes. Her lips curved into a sad grin, “This is the first decent outfit you have worn and I am going to ruin it with my tears.”
Benedict laughed as he pulled her once more to him. “Nonsense, I have plenty of other clothes at my disposal. I had a new wardrobe commissioned immediately upon my return and it pained me greatly to see it hanging in my closest while I was forced to wear the hideous and outdated clothing my friends supplied me with. I think I will instruct my valet to burn it all once I get home.”
“Even that lovely dress coat that reeked of moth balls?”
“Especially that one.” Benedict smiled as he pressed a kiss into her hair.
After several moments of silence, Lady Gillian said thoughtfully, “Lord Danford, I am glad that you won the bet and that your mother never has to know about your father’s indiscretions.”
“Oh Gillian, I did not win the bet, but that does not matter to me now.”
“What do you mean? We are set to be engaged.”
“I told Griffin the bet was off when I learned about Anthony. I told him that I was going to tell my mother the truth for myself. I had planned to go visit her at our estate as soon as I had returned from gathering the truth from your mother.”
“But you aren’t now,” she stated matter-of-factly.
“No, not now. Though I do feel a consuming desire to apologize to her, now that the bet is over, and tell her how I regret the embarrassment I caused her. If she and your mother had been in a contest for who was the most affected by my appearance, it would have been a close call. I caused both of them to flee Town, though I have since learned your mother feared more about me than my appalling wardrobe and ability to ruin your reputation.”
“Yes,” Lady Gillian said dryly, “I can see that her reputation was of far greater concern to her.”
“Not entirely true, my love, for I can assure you that despite her desire to keep her secret in the dark, she did indeed find me a boorish and highly unsuitable suitor.”
“Well I hope she can at least find it within her to be nice to you now that she knows you can blackmail her if she is not.”
“Yes, I daresay she will behave herself from here on out. Who knows, maybe over time she will even come to like me.”
“Oh she will, Benedict,” Lady Gillian said passionately as she looked lovingly into his eyes. “How could she not?”
Benedict chuckled as he rose from the sofa, offering her his hand for assistance. “We better get back to the ball before your Aunt notices our long absence and determines I am not a proper gentleman”
Lady Gillian followed him obediently out of the library. When they had just barely escaped into the hall, she came to a stop. “Lord Danford, what is your prize for winning the wager?”
Benedict slowly turned around to look at her. She was taken aback by the sudden sorrow that had overcome his face. “The bet was a two part challenge. Not only was I supposed to be engaged to you before the season’s end, I was supposed to get you to fall in love with me as well. The night I called the bet off, I had yet to secure an admission of love from you. I did not win the bet.”
Time stood still for two short seconds before she exclaimed, “Benedict St. Claire, you are the most foolish, idiotic man I have ever met. Of course you won the
bet!”
She watched his face intently, waiting for him to register what she had just professed, but understanding never dawned. Grabbing his hand, she pulled him down the hall until they came to an alcove, which she promptly pushed him inside. “I love you.” She enunciated each word slowly, speaking each one with conviction. Then, just to prove it to him, she pressed her lips to his so she could show him just how much she cared.
Benedict’s heart soared, for he had truly begun to doubt that his feelings were reciprocated. “Say it once more,” he commanded between kisses.
“What? That you are the most foolish, idiotic—”
His lips silenced her. When he was finally able to bear parting from her, he pulled back and petitioned once more, “Say it again.”
Her lips curved into a wide, beguiling smile. “I love you Benedict, so, so much.”
He rewarded her with another kiss.
Epilogue
Gillian pulled her Chinese silk wrapper tightly around her body, tying it tightly at the waist. Though Benedict still remained in bed, she could feel his eyes on her, watching her every move. She turned to look at him and was dismayed to see that he was scowling.
“Whatever is that unbecoming look for?” she asked as she walked to the edge of the large canopied bed where he was laying, the sheets pulled up to his waist, leaving his chest fully exposed. She shuddered delightfully at the sight.
Benedict pushed the thick burgundy bed hanging away from his face so he could put his hands on her waist and pull her into him. He laid his head against her stomach and her hands, of their own accord, wound tightly into his hair. “I am only upset that you are covering up your glorious body from my view. Have you plans today that I am unaware of?” he asked with a pout.
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