by Tonya Brooks
“Of course. Who else would have dared say something so outrageous?” She asked in unabashed humor. “I overheard your... former mistress going on about how I must have done something to force you to offer for me and let my temper get the better of me. I had no idea it would spread like it did.”
“It's true, you know.”
“What is?”
“I have been after you for years.” That announcement sent her off in peals of laughter at the absurdity of his claim. “I even insisted Dev draw up a betrothal contract,” he added, and she bent over double, holding her aching sides. “You've been mine since you were sixteen, Scarlett.”
“Stop. Please,” she gasped in amusement and wiped the tears from her eyes. “No one can make me laugh like you can, Nicky.”
“You find it amusing that I'd want you?”
“I think it’s hilarious,” she assured him. “Nicholas Branvill, the Rake of Ryder willingly betrothed.” That sent her off in peals of laughter again.
“Shall I have Dev produce the contract?” He asked seriously. “It is signed and dated.”
She hugged him fiercely. “Nicky, I simply adore you for being so blasted gallant and making up this Banbury tale. Did you and Dev come up with this nonsense before or after I started the rumor?”
He could see that she still didn't believe a word he'd said. “Perhaps it’s time I convince you how wrong you are, love,” Nicholas said softly and turned her so that her body was laid back against his arm.
~~~~~
The fact that Scarlett trusted him implicitly and knew beyond a doubt that he was still teasing didn't give her a moment’s pause as she lay there cradled in his arms and stared up into his handsome face in amusement. “Is this the part where you ravish me, Nicky?” She asked hopefully.
“Scandalous minx,” he accused before his mouth covered hers.
That was the last coherent thought that Scarlett had for quite some time. She succumbed to his passion; her body melting into his as glorious sensation filled her. Her arms slid up around him of their own accord, her lungs forgot how to breathe and her mind ceased to function. When he finally released her, his obsidian eyes were alight with an inner fire and the heat in her abdomen flared even hotter.
“Nicky,” Scarlett breathed.
“Don't look at me like that,” he groaned.
“Why not?” She asked innocently.
“Because if you do, I may not be able to stop,” he insisted. “I've wanted you too much for too damn long.”
That was when she realized that he wasn't teasing her. Nicholas was serious. He really did want her and had done so for quite some time. Her heart began to hammer in her chest and her stomach was making strange little flipping motions. “I don't want you to stop, Nicky,” Scarlett said softly.
~~~~~
His seductive minx wanted to be seduced, and he could not in good conscience do so, dammit. Nicholas closed his eyes and his expression was pained. “I promised your brother that I wouldn't seduce you. Biggest mistake I ever made.” When he opened his eyes and saw her wicked smile, he laughed and groaned in the same breath.
~~~~~
Now that she knew he wasn't being forced to marry her, Scarlett wanted nothing more than to be Nicholas's wife. “Nicky, I think you should know, I don't care for a long engagement,” Scarlett pointed out, pure mischief dancing in her eyes as her hands caressed his chest with a gentle touch.
“Trust me, it won't be,” he grinned as he sat her up, rose lithely and pulled his lady to her feet. “I think it’s past time I took you home, love.”
They walked hand in hand back to where the horses were tethered, rode by to check on Johnny and then continued on to the house where they separated to dress for the ball.
Chapter Thirty
Devil's Keep, England, 1810
“Nicky!” Scarlett gasped in awe as she rounded the black as night mare before her. “She's beautiful! Are you going to race her? Oh, she's bloody perfect.”
Nicholas smiled indulgently at the highly enthusiastic girl appraising his prime horseflesh with a discerning eye. He bred the finest, most well-behaved horses in all of England, and this two-year-old mare was destined to be the best his stable had produced to date. “That she is,” he drawled in the teasing tone he always used with her. “And she needs a name, kitten.”
~~~~~
Sixteen-year-old Scarlett reached up and stroked the horse's head lovingly, thrilled once again to be given the honor of naming the handsome young duke's horses. Nicholas always let her name his racing stock, regardless of what she chose to call them. He said she was his good luck charm. Every horse she'd named so far had been winners.
“Who's her sire?” She questioned in avid curiosity.
“Dauntless,” he supplied with a grin.
Emerald eyes sparkled with excitement at the announcement. Dauntless was the finest of all the stallions at Branvill Stud. “And her dam?” Was asked in breathless anticipation.
The grin grew even more. “Audacious.”
“Nicky,” Scarlett breathed in sheer reverence. No wonder the mare was so magnificent. Her pedigree was impeccable. If the horse were human, she'd be of royal lineage. The dam and sire had won more races between them than any other stables in all the continent. Their offspring could be nothing less than a champion.
~~~~~
Devlin whistled in appreciation. “No wonder she's bloody perfect.” Nicholas had been offered a king’s ransom for both the dam and the sire and he refused to part with either of them. Their offspring would be worth a bloody fortune whether he chose to race her or not.
~~~~~
“I have to ride her before I can name her,” Scarlett reminded the men as she placed her booted foot in the stirrup and swung her breeches clad leg over the horses back to settle firmly in the saddle. That was part of their deal. Scarlett would ride the animal and get a feel for its nature and then name it appropriately afterward. So far, her choice of names had been spot on.
The pair of twenty-eight-year-old men leaned negligently against the fence railing and watched without a qualm as the high spirited girl rode astride the equally high spirited filly. Scarlett was a bruising rider, well able to handle any type of mount, but Nicholas's horses were so well trained; even a child could safely ride them without fear.
She tore off across the training paddock at breakneck speed, wheeled the animal in a tight turn and then put her through her paces. Horse and rider made record time around the track before she galloped back to where the men waited.
Scarlett slid off the mare before them, eyes alight with pleasure, face aglow, and announced in a slightly breathless tone, “This is Brazen Lady.”
~~~~~
Brazen Lady, indeed. “How apropos,” Nicholas agreed in genuine amusement at her choice of name. With her blatant disregard for the rules of propriety and social decorum in general, Scarlett was a bit of a brazen lady herself. “Happy Birthday, kitten. Brazen Lady is yours.”
~~~~~
Had she not been made of staunch Ashbrook stock, Scarlett might have swooned on the spot. Like it was, her mouth fell open; the emerald eyes grew even larger as she stared in absolute astonishment at the ridiculously handsome man smiling back at her. “Mine?” She gasped in disbelief.
~~~~~
Devlin's expression was as comical as her own. Good God. Nicholas was giving Scarlett a guaranteed champion. A horse that would bring a veritable fortune if he chose to sell her. An animal far too valuable to just give to a sixteen-year-old hoyden. Even if she was his sister. His spoiled, willful, horse mad sister. “Nick, you can't...”
~~~~~
“I can and I have,” Nicholas cut in smoothly, thoroughly enjoying the rapt expression on the young woman's face. He didn't give a damn if it was an entirely inappropriate gift, or that he was losing a prime addition to his racing stable. The only thing that mattered was that the horse would make Scarlett happy.
And it did.
Ever impulsive, Scarle
tt acted anything but ladylike as she launched herself at him, her arms encircling his neck, her feet dangling above the ground as she planted kisses on his face while he laughed.
“Nicky, you wonderful, marvelous, incredible man! This is the best present ever. Thank you, thank you, thank you!” That said, she released him, swung back up in the saddle and raced off across the paddock astride Brazen Lady.
~~~~~
The men stood there watching her ride hell for leather until she reached the fence where both horse and rider sailed over it with effortless ease. Devlin shook his head in amazement at the other man’s generosity. Then again, he shouldn't have expected anything less. Nicholas had always loved and protected Scarlett like she was his own sister. He'd also done his fair share of spoiling her rotten.
Not that it had been necessary. God knew that Devlin had indulged her every whim. Her outrageous behavior attested to that. He was sure that one day he'd regret allowing her to run wild like a complete hellion.
And so would the man who married her, Devlin thought with glee. He almost pitied the man who tried to tame his beloved, if exasperating, sister. For all that she was a mischievous fun loving minx; Scarlett could be equally stubborn and headstrong. She was a handful, to say the least.
“I want her.”
“Beg pardon?” Devlin inquired, not at all certain what his friend had said so softly.
“I want her,” Nicholas repeated more firmly, his gaze riveted to the enchanting picture Scarlett made flying across the grassy hill atop her mare, the mane of red gold tresses billowing behind her like a brazen flame of molten fire in the morning sunlight.
Devlin followed the other man’s gaze to his sister and raw fury surged through his veins at the realization. “You bloody well can't have her!” He snarled and was fully prepared to rip his best friend limb from limb to dissuade him of the unconscionable notion.
Nicholas turned his head and gave him a level look. “As my duchess, Dev,” he corrected evenly in his calm, unflappable manner. “I want to marry Scarlett.”
To say that Devlin was shocked was an understatement. He was damn near floored with absolute incredulity. It was astonishing enough that the Rake of Ryder was even contemplating marriage, but for him to consider taking a sixteen-year-old girl as his bride was simply unbelievable. Especially one as wild and unpredictable as Scarlett.
“You're serious,” he accused in a strangled tone, not at all like his normal voice.
~~~~~
“Never doubt it,” Nicholas assured him in complete honesty, the black as night eyes somber with truth. He had known his oldest friend would be shocked at the admission. He'd also known that as an overprotective brother, Devlin sure as hell wouldn't like the idea. But the two of them had never had any secrets from each other, and he could no longer hide how he felt.
Devlin leaned weakly against the fence rail and asked the only word he seemed to be able to articulate. “Why?”
Nicholas refrained from stating that he had wanted her with a fierce and unreasoning hunger that threatened to drive him to distraction for a year now. He quite liked his head on his shoulders, and had no doubt that his friend would endeavor to remove it from that position without a moment’s hesitation, if he knew. “She's everything I could ever want in a wife,” he said simply, which was the absolute truth.
~~~~~
Devlin stared at him as if he had gone quite mad, and indeed, he did wonder if perhaps he should call for the Master of Lunacy to form an inquest on the matter. Nicholas was normally the most rational, level headed man he knew. He couldn't even begin to fathom what had possessed him to make such a demented claim.
“She's a hoyden,” he expostulated as if the other man wasn't fully aware of that fact.
“Scarlett is full of fire and spirit,” Nicholas countered.
“Not to mention stubborn, temperamental and utterly exasperating,” Devlin shot back, trying to make the other man realize just how preposterous the idea was.
He nodded his agreement. “You have spoiled her,” was acknowledged with a distinct lack of concern. “She'll prove difficult to handle. At first. But, with a little patience, Scarlett will be the ideal wife.”
“Only you would think a spoiled, willful girl with absolutely no concern for propriety or social graces would make the ideal duchess, Nick,” he said dryly. God knew Nicholas was about as improper as a duke could be. It would probably amuse him to no end to have a completely improper duchess.
~~~~~
Nicholas actually laughed at that. Devlin knew he didn't give a damn about propriety and never had. A proper wife would either bore him to death or make him daft. “You know me so well.”
~~~~~
He did know the other man well. Too well to be fooled. Pale blue eyes, hard as shards of glass, narrowed suspiciously. “Why Scarlett?” He demanded bluntly and wanted a real answer this time.
“Because to her I'm just Nicky,” Nicholas admitted, becoming completely serious again. “I don't have to tell you how special that is, Dev.”
He didn't. Finding a woman who saw either of them as more than a title with a fortune attached was a miracle in itself. Nicholas was right about that much. Scarlett was nothing like the marriageable young misses the ton boasted. Wealth and title held little importance to her.
No, his sister cared more about people than prestige. That she adored Nicholas went without saying. That he had the power to hurt her, couldn't. “Too special to be taken advantage of,” he countered with brutal honesty. “Like when you grow bored with her and move on to the next woman.”
~~~~~
“Scarlett never bores me,” he denied honestly. “Besides, with all of her fire and passion, a mistress is the last thing I would need.”
Even at the tender age of sixteen, Scarlett was an exotic beauty unlike the average English roses society hailed as perfection. All that fire bespoke of a passionate nature, a wanton lover, a born seductress. Nicholas was more than aware of it and he fully intended to claim her for his own.
~~~~~
Now they were getting somewhere and Devlin sure as hell did not like what he was discovering. That fiery Ashbrook temper flared to life again. “You want her in your bed,” he accused hotly, feeling a deep sense of betrayal that the man he considered more brother than friend could lust after his sister. The man he would willingly give his own life for. The man he was more than likely going to kill with his bare hands. Had it been anyone but Nicholas, he'd already be dead.
~~~~~
“Yes,” Nicholas agreed softly as his gaze drifted to Scarlett again. “Most definitely in my bed.” Looking back at Devlin, it appeared the beheading was imminent, so he added, “Marriage is the only way I'll ever get her there.”
“You bloody well got that right,” Devlin growled, all of his primitive male instincts rising to the fore with startling ferocity.
“I can give her the life she deserves, Dev,” he reminded the other man persuasively. “And you know I will. Any other man would try to change her, to break that vibrant spirit and tame her. As my wife, Scarlett will have the freedom to be herself. She'll have a respected title, wealth and a husband who appreciates her intelligence. What more could you ask for?”
~~~~~
It was a powerful argument, but the Ashbrooks never married for wealth or position. They didn't have to. The family motto was 'Tueri et amor'. To protect and love. Since medieval times, they had always married for love and he'd be damned if his sister settled for anything less. “A husband who loves her?” Was demanded bluntly.
“To the point of madness,” came the even response and without a seconds hesitation.
Devlin felt the anger drain away as quickly as it had appeared. Even though the knowledge that Nicholas was in love with Scarlett left him flabbergasted, there was not a doubt in his mind that his friend would continue to love and protect his sister, just as he had always done. For all that he was a rake, Ryder was an honorable man. The only man that he would entrust h
is sister to without a qualm. Maybe the idea wasn't as bizarre as he'd first thought.
“Nick, you know it will be two years before she's of a marriageable age.”
Nicholas inclined his head in acknowledgment. “Scarlett is worth the wait.”
“Women are fickle creatures and Scarlett is... highly unpredictable,” he pointed out and felt compelled to offer the other man a warning. “She may refuse your suit.”
“She won't,” was said with complete confidence.
“She could,” Devlin countered, though he knew it was doubtful. His sister already loved the scoundrel. Given the opportunity she'd probably jump at the chance to marry him. God knew there wasn't a woman in creation that could resist Nicholas's fallen angel good looks.
“Then I'll convince her otherwise,” he replied and those black as night eyes glowed with determination. “Not that I think I'd need to. Scarlett already loves me. I believe, given some encouragement, that will grow deeper in time.”
There was no doubt about that either, Devlin was sure. Especially if his old friend turned his lethal charm loose on her. “All right, Nick,” he agreed. “You may court her when she comes of age.”
“That won't do, Dev,” Nicholas denied. “I want a betrothal contract.”
“A what?” He asked in astonishment.
“A gentleman's agreement between you and I will not suffice,” he said firmly. “If anything should happen to you, I want it in black and white that Scarlett belongs to me. That she's mine to protect and love as I have done since she was a baby. I'll be damned if some twist of fate will place her future in jeopardy.”
The prerequisite astounded Devlin more than anything else that had been said. It also assured him just how serious his old friend was about marrying his sister. Even so, Nicholas had to know there was no way he would agree to it. “No,” he flatly refused. “A betrothal doesn't give Scarlett any choice in the matter.”
~~~~~
Nicholas thought about that for a moment and then nodded his agreement. “All right then,” he pronounced at last. “We'll add a condition to the contract. Give Scarlett the benefit of a season in which she may choose any man her heart desires. If she doesn't fall in love with someone else, I'll begin a courtship.”
