But what could she say? How could she explain things in a way that would ease his anger? She could hardly reveal that she’d hoped to make him jealous. Or could she? Not only was it a logical explanation but it would indicate to him that she cared what he thought about her.
Clearing her throat she said, “I’m certain you’re angry with me, and I can’t blame you, but you should know that I—”
Revington leaned across the coach and pressed his mouth to hers in a savage kiss.
Her body seemed to explode with delight, as if to say, Yes! Yes! This was what you were waiting for! This is the man you desire!
She wrapped her arms around his neck, giving in completely. Their lips and tongues mated and danced. Eventually he drew away so they could both catch their breath. He moved to sit beside her and pulled her onto his lap. His lips were warm against her neck, licking and nuzzling, making her shiver and sigh. He tore away the pelisse and sucked and nibbled at her shoulders and cleavage. Then he pulled down her gown and mouthed the nearest breast. His lips encircled her nipple, drawing in the tender flesh. Kissing. Sucking. Until she was limp and moaning with pleasure.
She felt she was drowning, pulled under by a wild tide of passion. A piercing need built in her core. A yearning so deep it almost hurt. Just when she thought she would die of it, he rucked up the skirt of her gown and fondled her private parts through the thin fabric of her pantalettes. She writhed and twisted, lifting her hips to press herself against his tormenting fingers.
So intense was her lust that when he drew away, she almost cried out. She waited, breathless and horrified as he thumped on the roof of the carriage. As the vehicle rolled to stop, she scrambled to cover herself.
“No need for that,” he murmured. The next moment, he cracked open the window and called out, “Jeremy, we’re not ready to go home yet. Take the route through the park.”
He shut the window, and the carriage started forward, Penny let out a sigh of relief. The next moment, he was kissing her again and lightly stroking her breasts. Her desire surged back, as strong as ever. He raised the hem of her gown, pulled off her pantalettes, and tossed them aside. She waited breathlessly as he adjusted his own clothing. A part of her was aghast at what they were about to do—having sex in a carriage! But as soon as the heated flesh of his phallus pushed against her own desperate wet opening, every vestige of doubt vanished. She welcomed him, urging him deeper and deeper still.
He filled her to the point of pain, and she moaned helplessly as he moved inside her. Gradually her taut flesh yielded, and she leaned back against the carriage squabs and tried not to scream from the pure pleasure pulsing through her. He clutched her, thrusting wildly. Their bodies were so close. Their sweat mingled. His mouth found hers as they climbed the precipice together. Then thundered off the cliff…falling into mad, swirling ecstasy.
Marcus disengaged himself from her exquisite, cushioning flesh and adjusted his garments. A sudden rush of emotion made his hands tremble as he buttoned the placket of his trousers. He’d never felt like this way about a woman before. This poignant, yearning…tenderness.
As she dressed herself, the realization of his own vulnerability filled him with panic. He’d always prided himself on being in control. But with this woman, he most certainly was not. She beguiled and suborned him. Around her he was helpless. At the mercy of his own feelings. He didn’t know what to do. How to deal with this. He wanted desperately for things to return to the way they had been. Maybe if he pretended not to feel anything, this gnawing ache inside him would go away.
Yes. That’s what he must do. It was unthinkable that he let this crack in his defenses deepen any further. He had to squash these feelings. Shove them aside. Bury them deep.
He moved back to his side of the carriage, thankful it was dark and he couldn’t see her. If he looked at her beautiful face right now, he would waver. The most basic courtesies of lovemaking demanded he appear pleased and content with what they’d shared. For him to draw away and coldly proceed as if nothing had happened was bound to hurt her. But it couldn’t be helped. If he weakened even a little, he would be lost.
He thumped on the roof of the carriage again. This time, when it halted, he opened the window and called out, “Take us home, Jeremy.”
The ride to the townhouse seemed interminable. The silence, heavy and suffocating. He held his hands tight against his thighs, struggling against the urge to reach out for her. He could hear the sound of her breathing and smell the lingering scent of their shared desire. What was she thinking? Had their lovemaking affected her as profoundly as it did him? What did she feel for him?
All at once he remembered what had brought him to that state of agitation. She’d gone off with that bloody bastard Lambson! His anger returned, gradually banishing the pathetic longing that had overcome him. He wanted to grab her again, but this time instead of kissing her, he longed to shake her and demand to know why she’d deliberately defied him. She was so headstrong and stubborn. Such an independent, aggravating woman.
And he was going to marry her and bind his life to hers. The thought of it filled him with anxiety. Maybe he should get out while he could. Break off the engagement and give up Horngate.
But he could hardly do that now. He’d taken her maidenhead and introduced her to all of London as his fiancée. For him to cry off now would be unforgivable. If he did such a thing, Withersby would have every right to call him out.
Of course, the puling coward would never do that. Withersby would be more than happy to slither out of the arrangement. He would get to keep Horngate, which is exactly what the bastard wanted. But Penny would be ruined and humiliated. No doubt she would feel hurt and angry, but would she also be disappointed? Marcus wondered if she felt anything for him. Was it merely lust that made her respond so passionately?
He couldn’t understand her. How could she melt in his arms and surrender so completely only a day ago, then turn around and go off with Lambson? Was she no different than Elizabeth? Now that Penny had discovered sex, was she willing to do it with any man she found attractive?
The thought made him grit his teeth. Confound her! He wasn’t the jealous sort. How dare she make him feel like this!
Marcus repressed a sigh. Here he was, back where he started, wondering how he’d ever gotten himself into this mess. Somehow he had to figure things out. And soon. He wished he could discuss the situation with James, but that was out of the question. If he revealed how he felt about Penny, James would accuse him of being in love with her. And that couldn’t be true. Love didn’t make a man feel as he did now. This doomed, sick feeling in his stomach couldn’t be love. Love was supposed to make a man happy and content, not turn him into a raging lunatic!
****
Penny heaved an inward sigh of relief as the carriage halted. In another few moments, she’d be able to escape this hellish situation. Get away from Revington, escape to the bedchamber and give in to her emotions. But what exactly was she feeling? Did she want to cry? To scream? Or to hit something very hard, over and over?
She felt as if she was losing her mind. Once again, Revington had drawn away from her, becoming that cold, infuriating nobleman she encountered that first time at Horngate. It had to be a false persona. She simply couldn’t believe it was his true nature. Someone so cold and haughty wasn’t capable of making love with such passionate abandon.
Or was he? She knew little about men, but she had been led to believe that when it came to sex, they were significantly different than women. Maybe Revington really was able to demonstrate such tenderness with his body and yet keep his emotions completely in check.
As he helped her out of the carriage, his demeanor was as distant as ever. If only she could do the same. It seemed like every time he touched her, another piece of her defenses crumbled away and she was left exposed and vulnerable. Try as she might, Penny could no longer hate him, or even dislike him. Her resolve to escape this marriage was weakening. Even though she knew she would lose e
verything she cared about if she didn’t win this battle of wits, she no longer had the will to fight him.
Bowes met them in the foyer. “Good evening, sir. Miss Montgomery.”
Revington didn’t respond, but strode down the hall and into the library.
As he helped her out of her pelisse, Bowes asked, “Did you enjoy the party, miss?”
“Yes,” she answered automatically. “The house was beautiful. And the food…the music…everything was exceptional.”
“Very good, miss.” Bowes bowed to her, and Penny started up the stairs. At this moment, she felt like screaming. No. What she actually felt like was turning around, following Revington into the library, and forcing him to speak to her. But the problem was, she had no idea what to say. She must untangle her own feelings before confronting him.
In the bedchamber, she went to sit on the bed. A moment later, there was a knock on the door. “It’s me, miss,” Maggie called. “Do you need help?”
“Yes. Come in.”
Maggie hurried in, copper curls bobbing, blue eyes bright with curiosity. “How did it go, miss? With Mr. Revington, I mean.”
Penny let out sigh. “I have no idea. None.” Seeing Maggie’s questioning look, she continued, “I followed your advice. There was a man who seemed interested in me. I left the ballroom with him, hoping to make Revington jealous. I don’t know if I succeeded, or simply made him angry. He scarcely spoke to me on the way home.”
Maggie moved behind Penny and unhooked the back of her dress. “Sounds as if it worked. Revington’s the sort to turn silent as a statue when he’s upset.”
Her gown slipped to the floor and Penny stepped out of it. “The plan may have succeeded, but I don’t see how it’s going to aid me. Revington was distant and difficult before. I don’t see how anything is improved.”
“Give it time.” Maggie picked up the gown and frowned. “It looks as if something got spilled on your dress. I’ll have to see if it will wash out.”
Penny felt an acute wave of embarrassment. She’d tried to use her handkerchief to clean herself before putting on her pantalettes, but… “It must be punch,” she responded quickly.
Maggie folded the gown and left it on the bed, then went to fetch a clean shift from the bureau. As she helped Penny into it, she said, “I do think our plan will work. As Mr. Revington sees other men are interested in you, he’ll realize he’s quite fortunate to have you. He might be angry now, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t coming to care for you. And if we succeed, Mr. Ludingham will lose the bet, and you’ll be able to get out of the marriage…if that’s what you still want, that is.”
“Of course, it is,” Penny answered. But inside, she knew it was a lie. She no longer had any idea what she wanted.
When Penny didn’t answer, Maggie motioned to the chair by the dressing table. “If you’d like, I’ll take down your hair.”
****
He really should go to bed, thought Marcus, staring gloomily into his brandy. But what would be the point? He’d end up tossing and turning all night anyway. Since he wasn’t going to sleep, he might as well stay here. He leaned back in the horsehair chair and stretched out his legs. It felt as if there was a war going on inside him. A fierce battle between his rational mind and his emotions. He was filled with a deep yearning to go to Penny and tell her that if she didn’t want to marry him, she was free to return to Horngate.
But his mind argued that doing such a thing would be witless. He’d won Horngate fair and square, and he’d be a fool to give it up. After all, it wasn’t as if he were condemning Penny to a life of misery. Once they were wed, she’d be free to do as she pleased. He wasn’t the sort of man who sought to control the actions of his wife. As long as she was faithful to him.
Although it was the fashionable thing for both parties to have affairs, he had no interest in doing such a thing, and he’d never be able to endure it if Penny had sex with other men. That’s what had upset him so much and why he’d behaved so rashly. The thought of her and Lambson… It was not to be borne.
Why had she done it? Was it simply an act of defiance? His earlier fear reawakened. Having discovered the pleasures of sex, was she now eager to explore those pleasures with other men? Maybe she thought Lambson would please her better than he had. The thought made him feel sick inside.
He let his mind linger on the possibility, then finally decided that lust was unlikely to be the motivation for her actions. He must not let his experience with Elizabeth make him think all women were like that. Sheer defiance seemed unlikely to be the reason either. Penny might sometimes appear a bit childish, but it was an innocent kind of childish rather than the petulant sort.
So, why had she done it? He was back to that. If she didn’t seek to aggravate him or desire to have an affair with Lambson, then what was it about?
All at once, it came to him. Maybe she hoped if she pushed him far enough, he would decide she was too much trouble and abandon his plan to marry her.
That thought led to another. The consistent thing in all her actions had been that she was trying to shock him. From her dramatic arrival on the huge stallion, her gauche and hoydenish behavior at Horngate, which he now knew was an act put on for his benefit. Purchasing an extravagant and outrageous wardrobe… Everything she’d done was calculated to convince him she would be a difficult and aggravating wife.
She didn’t want to marry him. He could see that clearly now. Which meant that if he cared for her at all, he should forget the wager and give up Horngate.
Hadn’t James warned him of this all along? And wasn’t that the point of his wager? James wanted Penny to have a choice; he’d known from the beginning what she would choose. She’d done everything in her power to get him to change his mind about making her his wife.
Which brought him back to where he started.
He got up and poured himself another brandy, then returned to the chair. The path ahead seemed very clear. And yet, he didn’t see how he could bear to go through with it. To not only give up Horngate, but to give up Penny herself… It would feel as if something vital had been torn out of him.
****
Penny sat in bed and gloomily surveyed the bedchamber. For a few hours she’d found respite from her dilemma in sleep. But now it was morning, and she was faced with the same problem as yesterday. After spending nearly a week trying to convince Revington not to marry her, she now realized that of all the men out there, he was the one she truly wanted as her husband. After all, he clearly had no intention of selling Horngate, and he seemed interested in continuing to breed horses. Whether he would allow her to be as involved as she would like was more uncertain.
Of course, it was possible she’d so angered him the night before that he’d never want to have anything to do with her again.
Restless, she climbed out of bed and went to the dressing room. She was going mad thinking about these things. Somehow she had to clear her head. If only she could go riding. That always helped.
Maybe she could. She recalled seeing horseback riders along Rotten Row in Hyde Park. They’d all been men, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t do it. Revington might not approve, but then after last night, could she really make things worse?
Of course, there was still the problem of what to wear. Madame Dubonet suggested having a riding costume made, but Penny rejected the notion. The idea of a cumbersome skirt, not to mention riding sidesaddle, dismayed her. That was hardly riding at all!
She searched the back of the closet for the garments she’d brought from Horngate. Even knowing how unlikely it was that she would ever wear them, she’d brought a pair of riding trousers and an old shirt.
She took them out and laid them on the bed. Compared to the clothes she’d been wearing the past few days, the woolen trousers and linen shirt looked terribly crude and unfeminine. But their plain familiarity was reassuring. This was how she’d dressed for much of her life.
Penny put on the clothes, then her old riding boots. Now, she fa
ced her next dilemma. How was she to get a horse suitable for riding? Surely one of the footmen would help.
She crept downstairs making certain Revington wasn’t around, then made her way to the servants’ quarters. The young footman, Jeremy, appeared shocked to see her. When he heard what she wanted, he was even more surprised. “You want to go riding, miss? Dressed like that?”
“I know Revington wouldn’t approve. But he doesn’t have to know, does he?” Penny made her expression pleading.
A frown darkened the young man’s thin face, and his blue eyes grew troubled. She could tell he was weighing his decision, trying to decide what Revington would do to him if they were found out. Finally, Jeremy gave her a crooked smile. “He did say we were to accommodate you in any way possible since you were soon to be his wife and the mistress of the household.”
“Exactly.” Penny breathed a sigh of relief.
She waited impatiently until Jeremy returned, all the while worrying that Maggie would appear. With luck, the maidservant was busy in the kitchen. As far as she knew, Revington had never gotten around to hiring a new cook.
At last Jeremy returned. He led her out the back way, to where a lovely chestnut gelding waited, fully saddled. Patting the animal’s neck, he said, “This is Nero. He’s a real goer. I feel sorry for him, always having to be part of a team and pull a rig.”
“Now, how do I get to Hyde Park?” Penny asked.
Jeremy gave her directions and helped her mount. As she found her seat on the animal, he nodded approvingly. “Looks like you know what you’re about, miss.”
“I do. Don’t worry. I won’t get hurt. I’ll be back here in an hour or so. Revington will never be the wiser.”
With that reassurance she set off.
****
He felt even more hellish than usual this morning, Marcus decided as he made his way downstairs. That would teach him to fall asleep in a chair in the library. He’d awakened very early in the morning and made his way to the guest bedchamber to sleep the last few hours, but even so, he’d wakened with a crick in his neck and a nagging headache, although the latter discomfort was likely due to all the brandy he’d imbibed as much as where he’d slept.
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