“To knock some sense into the two of you,” Louisa said crisply. “And it was my idea. Your papa did not want to deny me the chance to see you both happy. Plus, he desired to know his beloved daughter was settled.”
Before she had a chance to respond to Louisa, which judging by her state of mind was no doubt a good thing, Gibb reached the bottom step, trod across the hall and bowed to her papa. “Le Duc d’Astre, I presume.”
Her papa blanched at the frosty, punctilious tone. “Ah yes, your grace. I trust you are fit.”
“Do you?” Gibb mused. “I wonder.” He turned to the two women. “Lady Louisa, Lady Evangeline, I presume?”
Louisa laughed as Gibb oh so correctly kissed her proffered hand. “Do not take that tone with me, Gibb Alford. You know who we are.”
“Oh yes I do.” He dropped her hand and took hold of Evangeline’s fingers. However, instead of kissing them as he had Louisa’s, he tugged Evangeline toward him until she was unbalanced. “A lady by any other name.”
The unexpected movement made her jump and as he turned on his heel she was propelled after him, almost running to keep up. Her dancing slippers slid over the polished floor as she tried to slow him down. “Gibb, are you sure this is the right way to do it?”
“Oh yes, look at their faces,” he murmured.
Evangeline glanced at Louisa and Iain in turn and stifled a snigger in his chest.
“Next stage.” He and Evangeline purposefully across the entrance hall. “Excuse us, we have unfinished business,” he called over his shoulder. Evangeline looked around and saw Louisa and her papa lean against each other and grin. Definitely special friends.
“Gibb Alford, what on earth are you doing?” she gasped. “Argh.” He lifted her into his arms as they reached the staircase. “Put me down.” She tried to drum her heels on his legs and he stopped her using one arm to hold her legs tight against him. “If I could reach my stiletto I’d… What are you doing?” Her voice rose as did her excitement. “I swear I’m about to laugh out loud. Hurry for the love of god and hide my face.” Was she overdoing the indignation? But then she had to be seen to protest. Especially as her papa had informed her on the way over that they were to stop the night. Now she wondered where she would sleep. Or, she thought wistfully and hopefully, with whom. She didn’t think Gibb would be willing to let them sleep apart. Or she hoped not, but that behavior wouldn’t be acceptable, would it? Did she care? I should but by the look on my papa’s face he sees my future sorted and this—whatever this is—is part of it. She would follow Gibb’s lead.
“Abducting you,” Gibb said out loud without missing a step. “You can attack me with your stiletto later if you still want to. If you’ve forgotten it, I have one handy you can use instead. Excuse us, Charlie, you’re in the way.”
A puffing Charlie clattered down three stairs and stood stock-still. “Sorry.” He obediently moved to one side. Evangeline glared at him as Charlie grinned, raised one eyebrow and asked them…
“Do we hold dinner?”
* * * *
Evangeline bounced, as Gibb dropped her without ceremony onto a large, ornate four-poster bed with barley sugar columns and a carved tester from which hung deep velvet curtains. Her skirts billowed around her as she glanced up at the canopy and chuckled at the painted cherubs portrayed there. Each wore very little clothing and had a salacious expression. There seemed to be a lot of cherubs in bedrooms.
The click as Gibb shot the lock on the door made her move her gaze to where Gibb stood.
“I daren’t risk us being disturbed until we have everything as we desire,” he explained. “Do you mind?”
“Mind?” she asked stupidly. Her brain was addled. “Oh no, I don’t mind.”
“Good, one moment.” He disappeared into an adjoining room and reappeared seconds later. “All entrances bar the window secured. And if anyone thinks to climb three stories up the ivy, let them. It doesn’t look that sturdy to me.”
“Perhaps not,” Evangeline said, distracted by his intent and loving expression. She recollected his previous words. “I, er, wasn’t chuckling at you locking the door, but at the fat and somewhat lascivious-looking cherubs on the canopy. I agree with you over security. If we want to speak in private, with no prying eyes, I’ll stuff the lock with my handkerchief.”
Gibb laughed. “Those cherubs are somewhat startling at the first view, eh? Save your handkerchief, I’ve left the key in the keyhole. That should do it. So why the gasp of shock earlier? Apart from me playing barbarian. For which I thank you for not foiling. I know you could have if you really desired to. I thought the best way to get you alone would be to take them by surprise and hope you would go along with it to see what would happen. One reason why I didn’t go into too many details yesterday.”
Evangeline nodded as tiny shivers and tingles danced on her spine and dried her mouth. “No doubt it was best, for my wits were scrambled and I might have protested in reaction, not in want or need.” She could only pray he understood. “Am I making sense? I suspect not. Put it down to my amazement when I noticed this canopy.” She gestured upward, to where so many naked nymphs and cherubs cavorted over the material, there was a scant few inches of basic material to be seen. They were chased by satyrs under an impossible blue sky and in one corner a coy milkmaid—a milkmaid, for heaven’s sake—peeped around a multi-branched tree. Several apples were scattered around a half-naked man, presumably Adam, and the whole thing screamed ‘decadence’. “I’m not sure what the theme is. Especially over such a large bed.”
The mattress bounced as Gibb sat next to her—fortunately not too close—and looked to where she pointed.
“I did wonder why on earth I’d been put in here,” he said with a laugh. “It has always been out of bounds before. I decided there is a moral somewhere and I’m not privy to what it is. By the smarmy grin on the footman’s face when he ushered me in, I suspect there is some nefarious reason for this room being allocated to me. Unless my ears deceived me, I think he muttered what a rush it had been to get it ready. There are ten or so bedrooms I could have been quartered in.”
“Not unless it’s the most innocuous,” Evangeline pointed out, proud of her prosaic tone. It was hard to remain composed when what she wanted to do was grab a handful of shirt and plaster him to her and damn the consequences.
He chuckled. “It isn’t, I checked. All the rest are beautifully appointed and plainly dressed. This is the one that is, shall we say, risqué. I did hear it was where the last occupier and his wife had their liaisons. They were, according to Charlie, somewhat unusual for their time and were in love and faithful, so chose to meet up here for fun and games together.”
She looked up at one particular satyr who had a lecherous expression on his painted face and was reaching out to catch a coy nymph. The nymph, Evangeline decided, wasn’t trying too hard to distance herself.
“I like the sound of that.” She didn’t look at Gibb while she spoke. Why had he brought her here and mentioned that? “Did they live happy ever after?”
He put his hands to either side of her head and turned her so she looked straight at him.
“Oh yes. Like we will. Now, do we go and put them out of their wonderings? I’ll formally ask for your hand in marriage, and let them think their ploys were successful. Let tonight be our betrothal ball. Unless you want a big event?”
She shuddered. “No thank you. I’d like it as small as possible. And our marriage similar. Just those who are important to us.”
“Then I must say this again, so you are sure of me.” It was perhaps the most important moment of his life. Gibb closed his eyes for a second, swallowed, then looked at Evangeline’s face, before he pulled her into his arms and settled them both on the pillows. It felt right. She belonged there.
“Although we pre-empted it, your papa and Louisa gave me the opportunity to explain to you something I chose to ignore. So I’m going to say it again. I love you. That is not how I think I should feel but how I
have to feel. I know that yours is the body I want to wake up next to every morning,” he said in a soft undertone. “You are the one I want to share my life with.” Once he started to speak, Gibb realized it got easier every time. Easier to share his thoughts with the one person who mattered above all else. “I fought it, oh how I fought it. I didn’t want to love you.”
Evangeline stiffened. “You don’t need to say it all again. I believe you and love you.”
“I thank you for that, but we were somewhat rushed yesterday.” They’d scrambled into their clothes without the chance to talk very much. “I have to tell you how much I was scared,” he said frankly. “Scared and running. After all, I’d never been in love, didn’t like how it made me feel. Reliant on someone. I’d had it the other way around and look how it ended. To me it was something I never wanted to endure again. To be responsible for someone else’s happiness and wellbeing. So in my muddled mind, if I couldn’t do that, neither could I give that responsibility to anyone else.”
“But that’s just it, you didn’t have to give it. It’s up to that person how they feel and respond.” Evangeline lifted her head and stared at him. “I don’t ask you to let me love you. I do it regardless. You don’t have to accept it or reciprocate because love, if it isn’t given freely and without ties, is not love at all.”
“Thank goodness our love is given for free and without coercion then.” It was the easiest thing he had ever said.
Showing Evangeline what he meant by his words was the most enjoyable.
“Shall we confound them all by going downstairs now?” Gibb asked as he reluctantly took his hand off Evangeline’s breast and rearranged the neckline of her gown. “As much as I want to make you mine again, I’d rather do it at our leisure, lingering over every inch of you. Letting us discover our preferences together. Not in a hurry and waiting for someone to rap on the door. Yesterday was a moment I’ll never forget but we did rather rush things. I want a long, slow lovemaking next.”
“I would also like that,” Evangeline said. “After all, you need to speak to Papa and then there is a dance to go to.”
He’d forgotten the dance. “You will have to guide me through our betrothal waltz. I’ve forgotten how.”
“It’s like making love, you’ll soon remember.”
“Of course I will. With you. Shall we go together? Do things our way?” he asked and smiled at the wicked glint in her eyes.
“Oh yes. And let me be with you when you speak to Papa?”
Gibb mock-sighed and flicked the end of her nose. “I am betrothed to a bossy woman.”
“Not at all, how horrid.” Evangeline wrinkled said nose. “To your equal.”
He grinned and nodded. “That sounds better. To my love, my lover and my equal.”
* * * *
It had been oh so easy, Gibb thought as a day later he walked out of the tiny local church with his bride on his arm. Iain had chuckled at the way they had outwitted him. He had given his blessing immediately they sought him out and Gibb asked for his daughter’s hand in marriage.
Iain had slapped him on the back so hard Gibb had rocked. ‘If you promise to treat her right.’
‘Papa, enough,’ Evangeline had said with reproach which she spoiled with a giggle. ‘He will. Remember, I am the knife-thrower in the family.’
‘Of course I will, knife-thrower notwithstanding. She is my reason for being,’ Gibb had replied sincerely. ‘I love her with every fiber of my soul.’
‘That’s what I need to hear.’ Ian had shaken his head in mock sorrow. ‘Lost a daughter already.’
‘Gained a son,’ Evangeline had said. ‘Think of grandchildren.’
‘Ah yes.’ Iain had brightened as Gibb laughed. ‘I daresay you want the wedding soon, eh?’
‘Tomorrow,’ Gibb had said. ‘I have the license if you can get the venue.’
‘Now that is the easy part. The vicar is here.’
The Reverend Mortisham, once he had verified the license was all in order, had agreed to perform the ceremony. Charlie was roped in as best man and missives dispatched post–haste to London to inform their close friends they were needed. Eloise had protested but been overruled. She, Evangeline had said, was mother of the bride and bride’s supporter all rolled into one.
Evangeline nudged Gibb as they exited the church and began the walk back to the hall. “Do you see how Eloise and Charlie are staring at each other?”
Gibb looked. “She is surely several years older than him?”
“So?” Evangeline said with one eyebrow raised almost to her hairline. “You are several years older than me.”
He had no answer to that. “Then we best enjoy our wedding breakfast before I’m too old and infirm to dance with you.”
She leaned in to whisper in his ear. “And whilst you are still active enough to make love all night?”
He chuckled. “Minx. I’ll show you how active I am.”
He did.
Eve Marie Alford was born nine months later. She had her mama’s hair, her papa’s smile and her mother’s and grandmother’s earlobes. To say nothing of a crooked finger. Her eyes, her papa was wont to say, were peculiarly her own.
Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:
Daring Ladies: The Earl and the Courtesan
Raven McAllan
Excerpt
Chapter One
“And to my companion, Miss Theresa Kyle, in recognition of all she has done for me and mine, I leave my house in Berkeley Square with all the furniture she wishes to keep and the sum of ten thousand pounds to be hers outright and…”
Theresa didn’t hear anything else, other than the gasp that ran around the austere study where the will of the late Sir Humphrey Goddard was being read. She slumped back in her chair—as best she could on a straight-backed Chippendale with several pairs of condemning eyes on her—and put her palm over her racing heart as if to steady it. A handful of silk and lace grounded her. In her eyes, the furniture alone was priceless and more than she could have ever hoped to receive, let alone the building. As for the money?
Ten thousand pounds. That would give her an annual income of around four hundred pounds. A fortune to her. If it wouldn’t have looked so stupid, she would have used the hand over her breast to pat it rapidly, just to check she wasn’t dreaming. How silly would that appear?
“Good lord, he had lost his mind,” Mr. Abercorn, the rector, said. “Poor Lord Humphrey, bless him.” He looked to the ceiling and put the tips of his fingers together as if he were praying.
Oh my goodness, what sort of person does that in a situation like this? Talk about pontificating. The rector was one her beloved mama would say was full of words and little action. The ceiling was not at all heavenly, being as it was a dull beige and incredibly boring. Theresa was sure she could see a spider’s web in one corner, complete with occupant. It was obvious this room had not been used since Sir Humphrey passed on.
“I’m sorry to disabuse you of that idea, Reverend, but his lordship was of a very sound mind and gave me his instructions with precise clarity,” the solicitor said with definite annoyance in his tone. “It does you no credit to say such things. After all, he also left money to the church. Some might say that was a sign of a mind lost.”
The cleric flushed with anger. “The Lord’s house is grateful,” he said in a stiff manner “I meant no offense.”
“Good,” George, Sir Humphrey’s heir, interjected, his tone grim “Remember, it was his money to do with as he wished.”
The rector reddened. “I stand corrected,” he said. His reluctance to admit his mistake was obvious by his inflexible attitude. “My apologies.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Theresa watched both Lord George and the solicitor nod. However, it seemed the rector was not the only person to be resentful.
“Never mind that, what’s she done to deserve such largesse, then?” a disgruntled Lady Paulina, Sir Humphrey’s daughter, asked with a snap Her customary petulant express
ion was even more pronounced than usual. “I always thought her too forward and encroaching.”
George, the elder by several years, frowned at Paulina. “Enough, sister mine, you sound spiteful and grasping. Put your claws away.”
Paulina also reddened. Her sharp features stood out prominently and she looked like a weasel about to pounce on some poor unexpected prey. Theresa hoped that she wasn’t the target. She wasn’t in the mood to retaliate, and if attacked she’d have to. With most daughters you could be charitable and say grief had unsettled them. Not, she thought, in Paulina’s case. Her unpleasantness was habitual so this was no departure from normal.
George, a portly man who would no doubt become stout before middle age, stared at his sister until she turned away with a toss of her head. He nodded then smiled at Theresa. “Miss Kyle did more than any of us could do—make our father happy and whole again for a start. Miss Kyle, you deserve every penny, and I’ll be happy to be your mentor and guide in any way possible.”
Theresa smiled back somewhat tremulously as Paulina snorted. The woman would never be content, Theresa decided as she looked at the disconsolate long face. Even if everything had been left to Paulina, Theresa imagined she’d still have something to complain about.
Not like dear Humphrey, whose contentment had shone out of him and encompassed Theresa. And now this gift. Was this what Humphrey had meant when she’d lain in his arms and he’d told her she had made him very happy and he’d make sure she never regretted it?
“Theresa, not only did you bring back my ability to be a man again, you taught me much more than how to enjoy making love,” he had said. “You showed me how to pleasure a woman in ways that satisfied and gratified us both. Not an easy task, but you succeeded in such a way that I became more of a man.”
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