The Redemption of a Dissolute Earl
Page 8
Drew took her hands and turned his back to the gathered group of men. “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever beheld, but if it pleases you to wait, then I’ll wait until you have picked the perfect dress, the perfect flowers, the perfect night. Though—” his mouth came to her ear— “if we’re married tonight, I can good and truly break my promise not to touch you. I’ll break it slowly. Over and over and over again. All night long. Wherever you desire my hands.”
Heat flooded every part of Charlotte’s body. She turned to gaze at her father. “We’ll marry tonight, if it pleases you?”
He came to her and kissed her cheek. “If it’s what you want and it will make you happy, nothing will please me more.”
“It is and it will and I love you.” She kissed her father’s soft cheek then turned to Drew. “I’m ready.” She smiled brightly, her heart beating a rapid tattoo. This was not the wedding she had imagined―it was better. She had never thought to have the blessing of Drew’s grandfather and cousin.
“Can you give me a few minutes?” Drew surprised her by asking.
He had to be joking. “A minute for…?”
“I need to see my father first.”
Fear of repeating the past settled around her like an unwelcome blanket on a hot summer night, but she would not show Drew her fear. She did not want him to think that she did not believe in him. Instead she said quietly, “He’ll never approve.”
Drew pulled her toward the door, and once there he took her hands in his and turned her toward him. She could practically feel the duke, Lord Edgeworth, and her father straining to hear. “You misunderstand, Char. I don’t seek his approval. I don’t need it. I want him to apologize to you.”
She had assumed it was not possible to be any happier than she was at the moment she had realized Drew really meant he loved her and would marry her no matter what, but she had been wrong. Her heart ached with the new happiness infusing it. “I love you, Drew,” she whispered and kissed him lightly on the cheek.
“I’m counting on that, my dear. I suspect I will infuriate you many times in our life.”
“I suspect I’ll do the same, but we’ll muddle through.”
“I couldn’t ask for anything more. I’ll be back in a moment,” Drew called as he strode out the door.
Charlotte didn’t bother with pleasantries for any of the men in the room as she waited for Drew. They huddled on the other side near the sideboard of liquor, probably too afraid to approach her. She paced the room, worry gnawing at her. She knew Drew would be back for her―that was not what bothered her. She did not want Drew to have to endure hurtful words from his father.
How long had it been? Five minutes or ten? The house was big, but surely Drew could have been back by now. Maybe she should go to him? No, that wouldn’t do. Drew was a man and could stand whatever his father said to him. She paced some more, sat in the chair, then promptly abandoned the effort to sit and paced again. Finally, Drew came through the door, his father in tow, dressed in a mismatched shirt and trousers, his cravat half-tied.
Drew dragged his father over to Charlotte, and she strived not to glower at the man who had caused her so much misery. Releasing his father, Drew brought her into the protective circle of his arms. “I planned to tell Father to go to hell and take my allowance with him if he refused to come and apologize to you, but there was no need. It seems he’s had an assisted change of heart.”
Charlotte’s gaze flew to the duke, and he winked at her.
Drew tapped her side. “Father wants to tell you something.”
For the sake of Drew and their future children, Charlotte forced a smile to her lips. “Yes, my lord?”
Lord Norland cleared his throat, his cheeks blotched crimson. “Welcome to the family, Charlotte.”
And just because she knew it would get under Lord Norland’s skin―which he richly deserved―she smiled sweetly at him and said, “I bet you never thought you’d have an actress for a daughter-in-law.”
Lord Norland’s face flushed a deep crimson. “I’m sure Drew will see you give up that profession now that you’re to be his wife.”
Her gaze locked with Drew’s, and he smiled at her then glanced at his father. “You’re entirely wrong, Father. I’m thrilled Char is an actress. I’ll be on the front row of every one of her performances announcing to anyone who cares to listen that the beautiful woman on stage is my wife, Lady Hardwick.”
“Enough pricking each other with barbs,” the duke commanded in a loud voice. “There’ll be plenty of years for you all to needle each other to death. I can’t believe you two don’t want to get on with your wedding, so you can retire upstairs and be alone.”
“Right you are, Grandfather, as always.” Drew grabbed Charlotte’s hand and led her across the room to stand in front of the Vicar. The ceremony was brief and lacked fanfare, but Charlotte did not mind. When she stood in the Duke of Danby’s study surrounded by her father, the Duke, the Vicar, and even Drew’s father and they toasted to her and Drew’s future, she knew all she needed was Drew’s love. But what made her happiest of all was knowing all Drew needed was her love.
Drew slid his hand around her waist after the last toast and leaned toward her ear. “Let’s go to bed so I can touch you in all the wicked ways I have imagined for the last year.”
“I doubt all the wicked ways you imagined touching me can compare to what I imagined―though I tried not to―wanting to do with you.”
A devilish smile came to Drew’s face. “Care to engage in a contest?” He proffered his elbow to her.
“For?”
“Who can be the wickedest.”
She slid her arm into the crook of his. “Apparently you’ve forgotten I hate to lose.”
“I’ve not forgotten,” he said in husky tone that slid over her and made her body tremble.
Drew opened the door to his bedchamber and waved her inside. She proceeded through the door and then stopped as her eyes adjusted to the light of the room. Candles flickered all around the room giving the bedchamber she had always considered cold a warm feeling. Her eyes widened at what Drew had done for her. Rose petals scattered the coverlet on the bed and a made a trail to the fireplace where numerous blankets and pillows had been lain to form a pallet. The last time she had lain with Drew had been in front of that fire on a pallet much like the one he had recreated. He had asked her to marry him, and she had been so happy until he had failed her an hour later by crumbling under the demands of his father.
And now they were married. And Drew had proven to her that he loved her and would not fail her. They had come so far. She should be ecstatic and eager to come together with him, but for some reason her stomach twisted into knots, though she could not understand why. It was not as if she had never been intimate with Drew before. Still, it had been so long since they had been together, shyness swarmed her, almost as if this was her very first time.
She turned to Drew, not sure how to voice her concern and afraid he would think her a complete ninny, but when she looked at him her breath caught in her throat and lodged her words there. He had taken off his coat and cravat and loosened his shirt so that she could see the top of his chest. Her fingers tingled in remembrance of running her hands over his muscles. “I see you’re not wasting any time,” she said, her nerves making her flippant.
“This year taught me many things and one of them was to never waste one precious moment I’ve been granted with you.”
His words eased her nerves a bit, and her shoulders relaxed. Drew came towards her, and as he walked he pulled off his shirt and discarded it on the floor.
His skin glistened like brushed gold in the candlelight. She had thought perhaps he might be softer knowing he had spent his year with a bottle firmly gripped in his hand, but his muscles rippled as he walked and the desire he had always sparked in her filled her and pushed away a little more of her nervousness. “I see being a wastrel for the last year did not diminish your physique.”
“
I drank too much to forget the horrible coward I had been, but I also boxed every day in hopes that someone would pound me to death and put me out of my misery.”
“I’m glad they didn’t,” she said, reaching out and brushing her fingertips near his right eye where a small white scar she did not remember coursed a one inch jagged line down his face. “Is this from one of your matches?”
“Yes,” he said, reaching behind her head and slowly pulling out the pins that held her hair high on the crown of her head. She stood still wanting to savor the luxurious feel of his fingertips running through her hair and tracing lightly over her scalp.
She closed her eyes on a shiver as his hands trailed back and forth in her hair.
“God, Char,” he said hoarsely. “I’ve dreamed a thousand times of touching you just once more like this. I could die now a happy man.”
She snapped her eyes open at his pronouncement. “That would make me a most unhappy wife.”
His hands ceased tracing and suddenly gripped the back of her head. He lowered his face towards hers and brushed a kiss across her forehead. “Charlotte,” he whispered, trailing kisses down the bridge of her nose to end at her lips. “I love you so bloody damn much it hurts here.” He grasped her hand and pressed it to his chest.
His heart beat a fast tattoo under her fingertips. She swallowed, no longer nervous, only wanting to reassure him she loved him just as much, and she understood perfectly what he meant. Just seeing him―what she thought she had lost―filled her with such happiness her heart seemed to ache. “Drew, I―”
He set his fingertip over her lips. “Shh. Let me say something.”
She nodded, understanding by the urgency in his eyes he would not be satisfied until he had told her what was on his mind.
“I grew up pompous and spoiled and it took me too bloody long to notice you, though you were right under my nose most of my life.”
“I wasn’t exactly a prize,” she inserted, remembering with a wince the gangly, awkward child and young lady she had been with uncomely freckles and a head full of flaming red hair. Thank goodness, she had aged into being passably pretty.
“Don’t speak,” he admonished, giving her a long lingering kiss that made her toes curl. “You were a prize, but I had been conditioned to believe as my father did that we stood on a level above everyone else. I was a complete fool, and thankfully you fell into my arms one day―remember the ladder?”
“How could I forget? If I had never climbed that ladder and fallen, and you had not been walking by and caught me, we may have never had a future.”
Drew looked thoughtful for a moment. “I think I’ll have that ladder dipped in gold.”
“Drew, be serious.”
“All right, darling.” His hands slid to her back and he pulled her so close she could make out the golden flecks in his blue eyes. “You opened my eyes and showed me how absurd my beliefs were. And then I failed you with cowardliness because I thought I couldn’t live without my money. I meant to prove to you tonight I had changed, but my grandfather stepped in and fixed everything. Char, I don’t want you to question for a moment I would give everything up for you. So I propose leaving this all behind, moving to London, you acting and me getting a job.”
It was as if there had been a last defense against Drew she had not even known was still there around her heart. Inside of her, a glass wall shattered leaving nothing to stand between her and loving Drew. She threw her arms around him and kissed him. He growled into her mouth and responded by lifting her off her feet and wrapping his arms around her torso.
He took command of the kiss, deepening it until her head swam. When her feet touched ground again, she took Drew’s hand and led him to the bed. She motioned for Drew to sit. “I don’t question you. And if I had any doubt left, you just wiped it from my heart.”
“So you like my idea?” He leaned back on his elbows and smiled at her like a cat who had just had cream.
She drew up her dress and straddled Drew’s solid thighs. “I like that you wanted to show me what you would sacrifice for me. But there’s no need. I trust in you completely. Now, my darling, let me show you just how wicked I can be.”
And she did well into the night, until Drew called foul and demanded his turn to win the contest.
About the Author
Julie Johnstone has been a voracious reader of books since she was a young girl. Her mother would tell you that as a child Julie had a rich fantasy life made up of many different make believe friends. As an adult, Julie is one of the lucky few who can say she is living the dream by working with her passion of creating worlds from her imagination.
When Julie is not writing she is chasing her two precocious children around, cooking, reading or exercising. Julie loves to hear from her readers. You can send her an email at juliejohnstoneauthor@gmail.com.
Coming Soon!
LORD OF DECEPTION
Lady Madelaine Aldridge thinks her disastrous love life is the worst thing that could ever happen to her. Yet when her father is imprisoned for plotting against the King, she learns a broken heart is the least of her worries. As Napoleon advances and King George III sinks deeper into insanity, Madelaine must prove her father’s innocence in order to save his life. And her only hope for survival seems to be the scoundrel who broke her heart, Lord Grey Adlard. But who is the man she once thought she loved―a spy she must destroy or the knight of her dreams? As the royal intrigue thickens the power of the throne and the power of England won’t be decided on a dusty battlefield but in a bed where these two lovers wield caresses like swords and kisses like fatal arrows.
Look for DANCING WITH THE DEVIL (book 3 in the Whisper of Scandal Series) in 2013.
Other titles available from Julie Johnstone
BARGAINING WITH A RAKE (A Whisper of Scandal Novel Book 1)
CONSPIRING WITH A ROGUE (A Whisper of Scandal Novel Book 2)
Both books are available as an e-book at all major e-book retailers and soon to be available in print at Amazon.com!
World of Johnstone Teaser
Keep reading for a peek into the first Whisper of Scandal Novel!
BARGAINING WITH A RAKE
Lady Gillian Rutherford is desperate to escape London and save the sister she adores from the enemy threatening to destroy her. The only problem is her cold, stubborn father has betrothed her to a despicable man. But Gillian has a plan. She'll seduce an American shipping tycoon into marrying her. Her scheme hits a snag when she's forced to make a bargain with a notorious rake Alexander Trevelle, Lord Lionhurst. He’ll help her win the hand of his American friend, if she’ll assist him with exacting revenge against her unwanted fiancé. But the price of the pact may just be their hearts.
“humorous and touching. She has created a delightful cast of character that I hope to see again.” ~ SAMANTHA GRACE
Gillian would blister Whitney’s ears when she got her alone. For now she settled on giving Lord Lionhurst a tight smile, which she prayed conveyed annoyance and not befuddlement. “Good day to you, my lord. I’ll just go help my sister.”
His hand whipped forward and gripped her arm. “Don’t you think we should discuss details and strategy? By the way, if we are to be partners, you should call me Alex.”
“Absolutely not. That’s much too informal.”
“I insist.”
The man was too stubborn by half. “No,” she snapped.
“Yes. And I’ll call you Gillian.”
He was too sure of himself, but the loopy grin on his face made her smile in return. “You will not call me by my given name as I’ve not given you permission.”
“But you will.”
He sounded so sure that she almost believed it.
Voices sounded in the distance from the area of the stables. The last thing she needed was to be seen standing so close to Lord Lionhurst. They probably appeared to be engaged in intimate conversation. “Lord Lionhurst, simply sing my praises to your partner. I’ll do the rest. Now please go. This co
nversation looks too…”
“Cozy?”
A breath of air rushed out of her lungs. He understood her at last. Of course, he would. Why had she doubted it? “Yes, it would seem quite improper.”
He stepped toward her and leaned in so his lips almost touched her ear. “Jealousy is a sure way to attract another man.”
Lord Lionhurst’s breath caressed her neck, making her want to lean toward his warmth. Instead, she forced herself to lean away. “Really?”
“Absolutely.”
“You’re quite sure?”
“Trust me.”
She snorted. “How many times have you told a woman that?”
He pulled back from her, a dark scowl marring his face. “Never.”
Her stomach fluttered at his serious expression. “Are you sure it will work on Mr. Sutherland? Surely all men are not exactly the same?”
“Of course we’re not. But it will work.”
“All right. I’ll trust you. To an extent.”
Lord Lionhurst’s finger came under her chin. Standing so close to him, the scent of grass, pine and earth surrounded her. His hands cupped her face, and she could scarcely breathe. She swallowed, sure he could hear the sudden rapid beating of her heart. “I think a public kiss is too indiscreet.”
His hands twined into her hair, tilting her head back. “I completely agree. Good thing we’re still alone.”
A protest sprung to her lips just as his mouth came down upon hers.
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five