by Jaimey Grant
New tears threatened but Malvina held them back. Her son was not lost to all goodness, then. He was a good boy at heart, and he would grow up to be a good man. If Gideon was there to guide him. Without Gideon...
A tiny smile fluttered on her lips. “Do you think?”
“Sometimes,” he replied flippantly. “When it doesn’t tax my poor brain too much.”
“That is not what I meant, you awful man,” she scolded, suppressing a giggle.
Gideon smiled at her, a smile that held a small amount of sadness. He clasped her fingers. “Malvina, we have all had things in our lives that weigh heavily upon our minds. No one is immune to making mistakes. Sometimes, we need someone to help us through the difficult times we put ourselves through. Do you understand?”
She nodded, understanding far better than he could ever know. “I do, Gideon.” She gave him a thoughtful look. “You have done something for which you are ashamed?”
It was as if someone flipped a switch inside him. His eyes shuttered, his mouth firmed, his very essence dulling before her wondering gaze. Evidently, she’d touched a sore spot.
He withdrew from her, reaching into his waistcoat pocket and retrieving a small velvet bag. “This is for you,” he said, his action screaming of his wish to not discuss whatever pain he held deep within. Malvina wanted to frown at his lack of trust in her when he demanded so very much of that from her, but she forced a smile instead, pretending interest in the bag he held.
She took the offering, opening the little bag and upending its contents into her palm. Delicate silver chain spilled out, covering the pendant within. Malvina gently moved the chain aside. A single flawless pearl, large and creamy white, accented with a golden topaz and one tiny, grass-green peridot, met her wondering gaze. Her trembling fingers brushed over the bauble. For several moments, she couldn’t speak past the sudden lump in her throat.
Finally, swallowing hard, she asked, “Why?”
“As my betrothed, you are entitled to a gift to show my regard.” At her frown, his lips twitched. “And a lady deserves jewels to complement her beauty.” Her brows twitched upward. He leaned close, sending a shiver over her skin as she wondered if he’d kiss her. His fingers caressed her cheek. “There does not exist a jewel worthy of you, love. I can only hope you find this meager offering...charming.”
He broke into a grin at his own words. Unable to suppress her answering grin, she plucked the jewel from its satin bed, handing the bag back to her betrothed. She studied it from every angle, choking back the tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. She didn’t know if it was the gesture itself or the words that accompanied the gesture that brought on the waterworks this time.
“Here, allow me.”
Gideon took it from her nerveless fingers, pulling her to her feet. Standing behind her, he clasped the thing about her throat, allowing the pendant to settle just above her breasts. She shivered as his fingers traced a path of fire over the back of her neck, the sensation lingering even when he moved to stand before her.
Meeting his eyes, she shivered again. Her fingers rose to touch the pendant. “Thank you,” she whispered. “It’s beautiful.”
“There are more elaborate pieces at my estate, family heirlooms, but I thought this one suited you best.”
She could not prevent her jaw from dropping. “Family? How did you come to have this now?”
He shrugged. “I’d just retrieved them from the jeweler—annual cleaning—when my superiors called me in and sent me to investigate a widow suspected of treason.” Her shock turned to horror at the reminder of his reasons for being there. He didn’t allow her to respond. “I dropped the rest at the jeweler but this one was missed, a bit of an afterthought. I’d tucked into my waistcoat pocket and not noticed it until halfway here.” Another shrug. “I believe I was meant to give this to you.”
“This is—” Her throat closed on the words, the significance of his gesture slamming her in the chest. “I can’t possibly accept this!” She grappled for the clasp, desperate to remove the thing and return it to its rightful place.
His large hands closed over hers, pulling her face close to his. “I am giving this to you, Malvina. No matter what happens, this is yours.” He redid the clasp but did not release her. “No matter what.”
His lips smiled but his eyes held a tinge of sadness, something Malvina didn’t quite understand. She heard the sincerity in his tone, though, and nodded her acceptance. He pressed a quick kiss to her upturned lips and stepped back, holding out his hand.
“Shall we join your son?”
Malvina slipped her fingers into his, oddly determined in that moment to marry this man whether she deserved him or not. One day, she would know everything there was to know about him, even if he refused to open up now. She was patient. Hadn’t she spent well over ten years of her life with a man just because he was her husband before God?
This would be easy.
About a week after Wolf’s homecoming, Malvina received an unexpected, yet expected, visitor.
The weather was still balmy at the peak of the day. Malvina had taken to walking about unescorted in the woods near the house. She used the time to think and as her problems had increased of late, she had much to occupy her mind.
An insect buzzed close to her ear and she waved it away. As her arm came down, she was grabbed from behind. A hand closed over her mouth, stifling her cry of alarm and cutting off her air. Her captor dragged her backwards, into the trees, until they were hidden from the view of any casual passersby.
She struggled against the arm, desperate to escape as her air slowly dwindled, black edging her vision. Then a voice whispered close to her ear, “If you don’t scream, my lady, I will release you.”
After a brief nod she was released. She stumbled and nearly fell to the ground but her companion reached out and steadied her with a hand under her elbow.
“Where have you been?” she snapped, her eyes probing the shadows in an attempt to make out his features. “I began to think you had decided to leave me out of your plotting.”
“Hoping, more like,” scoffed the man. “Unfortunately for you, I still have need of you. I will contact you soon about your next assignment.”
“Very well,” she answered, knowing she had no other choice. What this man held over her head was enough to make her do just about anything he could think to request.
The man glanced around the wooded area with a distracted look on his face. A patch of sunlight lit his face and he stepped out of it, squinting up through the leaves overhead. His brow crinkled.
In that moment of brightness, Malvina caught ordinary features, handsome yet nothing out of the common way, dark brown hair peeking out from beneath his hat. Then he was hidden in shadow again.
“I hear you have a man staying with you. Care to explain that?” His eyes swiveled back to hers, sliding over her face and down to her bosom. He paused there, eyes narrowing. She could only assume he stared at the pendant she’d taken to wearing, the pretty little gift bestowed on her by the very man he wanted to discuss.
Malvina felt an overwhelming urge to kick him in the shin and run away. A childish desire, to be sure, but one she couldn’t help but feel. “I am engaged. You may wish me well.”
“Indeed?” he replied, his brows raised slightly. “And will he be a problem for you? I would hate to have to remove him from the scene because he put his nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“He will not be a problem,” lied Malvina. She schooled her expression into one of annoyance, trying to cover her desperate hope that Gideon would prove to be just that. But at the same time, she feared for him.
“And who is the lucky man? All I can uncover is a vague description and his abject laziness.”
“Does it matter?”
“It does if you want him to survive the night.”
She studied him for signs of an empty threat. She was used to such, having lived with a man who was quite fond of empty threats. Finding nothin
g but dark promise, she capitulated. “He is Gideon Mallory,” she told him, giving him the name her betrothed had given the headmaster at Wolf’s school.
A look of sheer amazement crossed the man’s face. He snorted a laugh that contained hints of genuine amusement. “Did you say Gideon Mallory?”
“Do you know him?” she asked, unable to hide her surprise.
“The question is, my dear lady, do you?”
She didn’t think. Reaching the house, she inquired after Gideon’s whereabouts and went straight for him. She couldn’t remember ever being quite so angry. Not even when Brackney had admitted he had a mistress in keeping. This was far worse.
She refused to consider why.
Malvina stormed into the book room and stood, fuming, before the desk. Gideon sat behind it, his face lifted to hers inquiringly.
He rose slowly to his feet. “Malvina? Do you need something?”
She curtsied deeply, mockery in her every movement. “Oh, no, my lord earl. The question is, how may I serve you?” Then, muffling the scream that pressed at her throat, she stormed right back out.
Gideon stood behind the desk, speechless, for a full fifteen seconds before the shock turned to rage. Only one person could have told her who he was. And that meant she’d been in contact with the knave who threatened her and she didn’t tell him. He’d throttle her.
He found her easily enough. All he had to do was follow the sounds of stomping and muffled shrieks. He threw open the door of her bedchamber and strode in, slamming the door behind him. She paused in her furious pacing and looked at him, her pale green eyes shooting daggers. Wisps of deep red hair waved around her face, strands of flame in the late afternoon sun streaming through the window. He moved across the room until he stood directly in front of her.
“Who told you?” he demanded, barely recognizing his own voice. He had never been so completely incensed in his life. It scared him that this woman could do that to him
“Who told me?” she repeated shrilly. “Who told me? You lie to me and you have the gall to demand that I tell you who told me?”
“It is a reasonable demand considering I am not well known in this part of the country. I can think of only one person who would know.”
Malvina pushed her face closer to his. “You…lied…to…me!” she bit out.
He could see she’d not get past this one point. So he humored her, focusing on the subject she obviously wanted to discuss. “Of course I lied to you. For all I knew, you could be the ringleader behind these holdups and I’d find myself shot in the back for my pains.”
“I would never shoot you in the back, you liar. I’d shoot you square in the face so you could see that it was me.”
Gideon took a step back and locked his hands behind his back. He was tempted to shake her until her teeth rattled. “That’s good to know, I must say,” he responded. “I will be sure to keep any and all weapons out of your lovely hands.”
She opened her mouth to say something else, but stopped short. “Lovely?” she said.
His eyes settling somewhere on the ceiling, he took one deep breath, forcing calm through his body. “Your moods leave much to be desired.” And he turned on his heel and walked out.
She ran after him, catching him just outside her door. “I am not through yelling at you!”
“I am through listening,” he retorted. He shook off her restraining arm but she held on like a limpet. “If you do not release me this instant, madam, I swear I’ll shake you until your teeth fall out.”
Her grip loosened in the face of his obvious anger. It had not occurred to her until that moment that he was as angry as she was. It made her stop and think. He walked away, his back stiff with fury, and disappeared out the front door.
Gideon did not come back for dinner. He didn’t come back until the next morning. By that time, Malvina was too worried about him to be angry. She decided to give him a chance to explain his reasons for lying to her.
Her magnanimous decision was met with resistance. Gideon gave her a tired look from behind hooded eyes and mumbled something she didn’t quite catch.
“Excuse me?”
They stood in the foyer, in plain view of anyone who happened to pass through. Gideon had just walked in, rumpled and still wearing the clothes he’d had on the previous night. His eyes were dark-rimmed, increasing his usual air of somnolence.
His hands clenched. “I said,” he repeated in a long-suffering tone, “that never was a man plagued by such a fool woman.” He made his escape before she could retaliate by slapping him.
In truth, Malvina was far too shocked to do anything beyond stare at him open mouthed. Then, as if disbelieving he might actually do her some harm, she followed him up to his room.
She didn’t knock. Pushing open the door, she surprised him. He had already started removing his clothes, his hat, coat, waistcoat and shirt laying across his bed. Distraction held her for a moment, her eyes roving over his back, marveling at the smooth perfection of flesh and muscle.
Almost perfection. She caught a glimpse of faint lines near one shoulder before he turned to face her. His smooth chest rose and fell with each breath.
Her husband had been a rather hairy man, hair on his chest, his knuckles, and in his ears. She supposed that could have been attributed to their great difference in age. She shuddered just to think of it. Gazing upon Gideon’s smooth flesh caused a tremor in her limbs that she barely recognized.
They stared at each other for a long while. Then, recalling how very upset she was, Malvina forgot how upset he was. She advanced on him, her fist raised. “I demand an apology, young man!” Inwardly, she cringed but the words were said. She couldn’t rescind them now.
He blinked. Other than a slightly quirked eyebrow, his face was completely blank. She wondered for a second if he’d even heard her.
Then, “Young man?” he repeated slowly. A light began to glow in his brown eyes that had her backing toward the door.
He caught her wrist and dragged her forward. “You sound like my mother, Malvina. Is that what you intended? To sound like my mother?”
“You’re behaving like a child,” she managed to say, a trifle breathlessly. He stood far too close to her for comfort. He smelled of sandalwood and horses, leather, and every other manly thing she couldn’t think of at the moment, her mind refusing to settle on just one thing.
“A child? You think me a child?” he asked, his voice a husky whisper. “Do you need proof that I am a man, Malvina?” he threatened. Her name escaped his lips like a caress, silky and smooth, sending a shiver over her skin.
He didn’t wait for a reply. He crushed her to him, his mouth seeking and finding hers. He kissed her in fiery anger, awakening an answering fire deep inside her she’d never known existed. It was unexpected, this level of emotion from this man who seemed so unemotional much of the time.
Although she regretted her angry words, she could not regret the result.
In a voice she didn’t recognize, she begged him to make love to her. His lips hovered over hers for a moment before she was marched unceremoniously to the door. He opened it, pushed her out, and smiled grimly down at her.
“Do not test me, Malvina. It is the one thing I’ll not stand for.”
The door slammed and she heard the key turn in the lock. She stood there for several moments, dumbfounded, before she managed to make her feet move away.
Two of the maids stood tittering behind their hands as she passed. It took the greatest effort to prevent the flame that threatened to climb her cheeks.
Gideon heard her retreating footsteps and slumped against the door. Never had he come so close to saying ‘to the devil with it.’ He wanted her so badly, his body ached. It had taken a supreme effort of will to stop and remove her from the room. Every muscle, every sexual instinct clamored for satisfaction and not just any. He wanted no one but her, the traitorous, lying, conniving little beauty.
She knew, or at least had seen, the man who plagued her
.
He’d just walked through the door after a sleepless night spent scouring the countryside in the vain hope that he might find her persecutor. He had failed, of course. His betrothed’s willingness to forgive him for his omission so close on the heels of his failure had frayed his temper to the point of violence. He’d had to walk away. He really thought he might have hurt her if she persisted.
If she truly feared her blackmailer, if she truly was being forced to obey him, she would have told Gideon everything she knew about him in the hopes that Gideon could help her.
A tiny voice whispered that she had as little reason to trust him as he had to trust her. He firmly suppressed it.
Dragging himself away from the door, Gideon moved across the room, desirous now of nothing more than sleep.
If he sent for Harper, his valet, he would have at least one other person in the house he could trust, which would go far in relieving much of his anxiety. And his mother could stop worrying about him and his sister Samantha could be reassured that her source of a dowry was not out somewhere getting himself killed.
Hard on the heels of that thought was the uncomfortable reminder that he needed to pay a visit to his estate. He hated going there, had not been there in several months, in fact. Duty demanded that he journey there soon, as Samantha was sixteen. She’d started hinting about wanting a Season, despite her knowledge that she was betrothed and had been since childhood.
Gideon fell back on the bed, eyes closing. He lay like that for at least an hour before he realized he would not sleep. Malvina’s betrayal weighed heavily on his mind, causing an unusual bout of insomnia. He had to do something about that woman before she got more poor boys murdered.
There was also the young baronet to worry about.
Sir Beowulf Brackney was a very disturbed young man and Gideon really did not want to have to deal with that. He was barely a dozen years older than Wolf and his experience with young men Wolf’s age was precisely nothing.
