A Gentleman's Gamble (Devilish Lords Book 3)

by Maggie Dallen

  Discomfort had him shifting under her expectant glare. “I realize my family has a reputation in that regard, but I am not my father.”

  That came out harsher than he’d intended as old resentment and a pain he thought he’d forgotten reared up. He tried to lighten his tone. “Also, when on earth did I revert back to Mr. Cleveland? I’d thought we’d agreed on the first day of our journey that as we are now betrothed we could afford to be slightly less formal.”

  He saw the color in her cheeks and he had an inkling of just how discomfited she’d been by his mention of children. Interesting. The question was…why? “You never answered my question,” he said. “Do you want children?”

  “Why did you mention children if you don’t intend to sire any?” she asked, neatly evading the question.

  He arched his brows meaningfully and was met with a sullen frown. “Do you want children?”

  She crossed her arms in front of her delightful chest. “Why did you mention it?”

  It seemed they were at a stalemate. One of them had to answer. He let out a sigh. “I was merely wondering if my duties as your husband would include siring a child.”

  Oh my. Her cheeks looked uncomfortably red at his alluding to the intimacies of marriage. “I thought I made myself clear on the nature of this arrangement.”

  He nearly growled in frustration. Yes, she’d made herself clear. Very clear. And he ought to be glad, to be sure. He might have discovered an attraction here but he appreciated the fact that this marriage would be a business deal. He didn’t have need for an emotional connection any more than she did.

  A romantic relationship would bring with it heartache and grief. It would mean having someone depend on him and hold him to expectations.

  This woman, in particular—she would expect much from a man she loved. Or even one she admired. From him, it seemed, she expected nothing except that he be an avaricious, money-hungry cad.

  And, he ruefully noted, he’d lived up to that expectation well enough.

  Still. He was a man, and he had his pride. Possibly too much of it. It irritated him that she seemed to expect him to behave as his father had, siring children with no thought to how the unnatural parentage might harm his wife or the children, not to mention this hypothetical mistress.

  His gaze fell to her lips, the taste of which was never far from his mind. That kiss had been a thing of beauty, and he knew she’d felt it too. The draw, the physical connection.

  Were they to make this a real marriage, they would have little problem in that department. He knew it deep in his bones. His body and hers were well suited. They had a natural chemistry that was inexplicable and unable to be manufactured.

  He’d been with enough women to know that it was either there or it wasn’t. And with Eliza, of all people? It was there in spades.

  Perhaps that was why it felt as though he were being rejected when she reminded him yet again that she had no wish to share his bed. But it was a darker suspicion that had him leaning forward, his gaze meeting hers. “I accept the terms of this arrangement. I will never force you to make this a real marriage in any way.”

  He watched her swallow. She eyed him warily as he continued.

  “But do not think for one moment that I would be just as easy about a cuckoo in the nest as you are.”

  She blinked a few times. “You would be displeased if I were to have children by another man?”

  Displeased? He choked down a harsh laugh at the understatement. “Yes, that’s right.” The thought of her being with another man made him clench his fists in barely contained rage. Why? He wasn’t certain. Perhaps there was something in him that responded to the idea of marriage on a primal level. His brain might be aware that it was in name only, but he still felt a possessiveness he’d never known he could feel.

  “You wouldn’t want to look the cuckold, I imagine.” She murmured this in a neutral tone, explaining away his revulsion as though it were solely a matter of his ego.

  But it wasn’t about his pride—at least not solely. And it wasn’t just that he didn’t want her bearing another man’s children, he realized.

  He didn’t want her touching another man.

  The thought of her kissing anyone but him, of sharing a bed—

  “Are you quite all right?” she asked suddenly. “You look ill.”

  His gaze clashed with hers and she gasped. Ill did not accurately describe his feelings at the moment. It was all he could do not to tug her into his arms and kiss her until she swore she would honor her vows of fidelity.

  But he couldn’t. And he wouldn’t. He’d made an agreement and he intended to honor it.

  Besides, he did not even want any more than she was offering.

  Did he?

  Chapter Five

  The remainder of their carriage ride that day was spent in relative silence. Eliza wasn’t certain what was going on in Jed’s mind—a fact that disturbed her—he was typically easy to read. And by that she meant, he was typically happy.

  But he’d seemed to have fallen into a bout of thoughtfulness, his brow furrowed as he stared out the window.

  She thought to speak several times, but each time changed her mind. She wasn’t typically so wishy washy, but after that bizarre interaction she had no idea what to say. Part of her wanted to press him for answers. Why had he reacted so strongly to the idea of her bearing another man’s child?

  But then again, reason told her that most men would likely have the same reaction. It did not mean anything. He might have agreed to live separate lives, but she supposed most men did not relish the idea of being made to look like a fool.

  At other times she’d thought about apologizing. She was not oblivious to the gossip surrounding the Clevelands, particularly their father’s philandering and the way his children, particularly the younger ones, tended to look little like his wife. It was clear that Jed had misconstrued her meaning. Perhaps he’d taken offense at her suggestion that he would be so thoughtless as to have a child outside of marriage.

  But it was not as though she thought he was just like his father, she merely thought he was like all men. Perhaps that was not the most valid reasoning, though in her experience, gentlemen tended to view the world as theirs for the taking.

  Oh dear, that sounded bitter and jaded even to her.

  Lord but she hated this. She prided herself on being an uncomplicated woman with relatively clear-cut emotions. This churning mix of guilt and shame and irritation and confusion…it did not suit her.

  That night as they went into their respective rooms, she found herself stewing over the matter some more. One more day and they would be wed. She refused to find herself married to a man with this sort of uneasiness and uncertainty between them.

  She might not have appreciated the way in which he’d brought up the topic of children, but he’d been right to do so. It was a matter they ought to have discussed before setting off to Gretna Green, and it wouldn’t help matters to put the topic off any longer.

  If he wanted legitimate children he ought to know without a doubt that he would never have them with her.

  She did not desire children, just as she had no need for love or romance in marriage.

  Guilt nagged at her as she neatened her appearance in the mirror. She was set to meet Jed for dinner in the inn’s pub, as they had done the night before. Over dinner she would give him the answer she’d avoided in the carriage.

  She did not want children.

  Yet again, the lie made her squirm. She did not want children...on her own. Like every silly fool, she of course had harbored her fair share of dreams as a girl. Fantasies of marrying for love and having the sort of happy home life she’d never known.

  But that was a foolish dream. She’d grown up since then and had given up the idea of children along with the idea of marriage.

  But now you’ll have your marriage…

  That silly voice was surely the little devil on her shoulder, trying to tempt her into believing tha
t this agreement was something more than what it was.

  She met her gaze in the mirror head on, reminding herself of why she was here, and more importantly, why Jed was here as well.

  For freedom. For money. Nothing more.

  Without her sister’s attentions she was once more back to being plain, if ever she was anything more. She was not a true beauty, of that much she was certain. Nor did she possess her sister’s charm or Georgie’s wit. With a sigh she turned from the mirror. It was not a sad sigh, but one of acceptance. Relief, even. It was always better to know the truth. If any fleeting fancies had been stirred up in her subconscious it was best that she dealt them a death blow now.

  Girlish dreams had no part in her plan.

  She gathered a cloak quickly, forcing her mind once more onto the plan. Jed had been right about one thing—they had been getting on remarkably well these past few days. It would be a boon for her plan if this…friendship? She supposed that was the best term for it. It would do well for her plan if this friendship remained intact.

  Even after the wedding, they would have to work together to convince her father to give them her dowry. And besides, being on good terms had made this harrowing adventure far more acceptable. Pleasant, even.

  She would go to him and apologize for her assumptions. She would clear the air about the children issue and ensure that they were once more on the same page when it came to expectations for their future.

  That was the idea when she knocked on Jed’s door rather than heading down to the inn where they were to meet for supper.

  But when he opened the door and his surprised gaze met hers…she forgot what on earth she was doing here, at his room, with no one else around.

  He gestured for her to enter and she did, despite the nervous flutter in her belly that warned her against it. She wasn’t afraid of him, necessarily. All right, not at all. But there was something about his eyes when he saw her at his door that made her feel like prey.

  His gaze had grown too focused, the look there far more intense than usual.

  He stayed near the door as she entered and fled to the far side of the room. Distance was key. Being too close to this man addled her senses, a theory that had been tested time and again in that carriage. Their conversations could be as pleasant and mild as could be but that didn’t change the fact that she was constantly in a fevered state whenever she got a whiff of his deliciously masculine scent, or when their legs brushed against one another.

  It was all thanks to that blasted kiss. Her first and only kiss, and the one moment that seemed to haunt her day and night.

  “Is everything all right?” Jed asked from behind her.

  She didn’t want to turn around. His beard had started to grow in after days of hasty travel and the sight was far too attractive. He had always been a handsome man, but the rough stubble made it hard to remember that he was a charming rake and not just a devilishly seductive man.

  Be brave. Be bold. She gave herself a rousing pep talk before facing this man with his irritatingly handsome facial hair.

  “I came to apologize,” she said, reminding herself as much as him. “As the topic at hand was one unfit for the public, I assumed it would be more acceptable to have this conversation in your private rooms, however—”

  “Eliza?”

  “Yes?” She was startled from her speech and lost track of where she’d left off.

  “You are to be my wife in less than two days’ time. I think we can forget etiquette for the time being, don’t you?”

  She nodded. “I do. Yes.”

  He gestured to the room at large with a lopsided smile that made her silly heart skip a beat. “You are welcome in my private rooms at any time.”

  “Thank you.” She pressed her lips together before she could reciprocate. She hardly wanted him in her private rooms without proper notice.

  A little voice of honesty nagged at her.

  Oh all right, she supposed there was a very base part of her that thrilled at the idea of him showing up at her rooms in the middle of the night.

  Oh dear. It was too warm by far at this blasted inn.

  “Now,” he said. “What were you saying?”

  She stared at him, noting for the first time the way he was not quite finished dressing. His collar was still open, revealing a tantalizing hint of his chest. It had hair, she dimly noted. Her mind was already fantasizing about what that might feel like behind her hands and how far that hair might go. Did it spread all the way down his chest?

  Her gaze wandered, and she had to forcibly pry her eyes from his body to meet his scrutiny once more.

  He was still watching her, waiting. If he’d caught her ogling, he did not comment. She swallowed thickly. What was she saying? “Apologies,” she blurted out suddenly. “I came here to apologize. Uh, er…” She gave her head a little shake. “Earlier, I had not meant to imply that…that…that…”

  Words failed her.

  “That I am just like my father?” His eyes were lit with amusement—at her discomfort most likely. His tone turned rueful as he studied her cheeks which she was certain were flushed from embarrassment.

  Lord she was making a mess of this. All of it. She was supposed to be keeping her distance, remaining cool and unperturbed. This was a business arrangement and business was where she shone, though her father refused to admit it. He used her strategic mind when it suited him but never once credited her for it.

  She could pinpoint where exactly her well-laid plans had gone awry, but she did not know how to solve it. The problem was, prior to this adventure she had steeled herself for the wrong scenario. She’d expected to be battling inner rage at every turn. She’d thought she would be wrangling a rake. Drunken scenes she’d prepared herself for, perhaps a brawl at one of the inns or even having to drag his bottom back up to his room.

  She had absolutely been prepared to find a young lass in his rooms.

  She had not, however, expected to be the lass in his room. She was thoroughly shocked to find that far from getting drunk or flirting with strange women, he’d been the epitome of a gentleman. He hadn’t even joined in for a round of cards at the last inn, claiming exhaustion when the other patrons had tried to cajole him.

  And now…oh heavens. Now she found herself liking him at every turn. He’d been correct in the carriage. They had been getting along swimmingly—he made her laugh and kept a steady stream of conversation at times, but also seemed at ease with quiet. The most fascinating part was that he seemed to find her just as pleasurable to be with. Aside from Henri, and sometimes Mary, no one ever laughed at her jokes. Few rarely seemed to even be aware that she was joking.

  But Jed knew, and he laughed. And he teased her in return. He made it all seem so easy. So natural.

  It had quite honestly been the most enjoyable travel of her life. His humor had kept her smiling even when she told herself this was not an amusing adventure. His conversations, even when mundane, were never dull.

  Drat. Of all the things to upend her plans, liking this man had never even occurred to her. What would Henri say? What would she do?

  “Rest assured, Eliza,” Jed said now, clearly misconstruing her distress. “We Clevelands are well accustomed to the gossip and expect to live within our father’s shadow, so to speak.”

  She frowned at that. “But you shouldn’t. Whatever your father got up to, it was hardly your fault.”

  His smile was curious, a mix of amusement and interest. “Do you think so? You might be the only one.”

  She blinked at him, uncertain what to say to that. But then his expression grew rueful. “It is good to hear, though. I have enough sins of my own. Taking on my father’s as well would surely leave me too burdened to go on.”

  Despite his rueful smile, the sadness in his eyes left her feeling helpless, at sea in a wave of emotions she didn’t quite understand. All she knew was guilt that she’d caused any of that pain. After all, she might judge him harshly for his past actions, but she would nev
er assume he was like his father. Lord knew she would hate it if anyone were to judge her based on her father’s merit.

  But that was exactly what she had done to him, whether she’d intended it or not. She nibbled on her lower lip, trying to figure out how to make this right.

  His eyes grew gentle as he took a step forward. “Truly, Eliza. Do not trouble yourself.”

  She stiffened when he reached out and gently touched her cheek. The gesture was so quick, so light, she nearly thought she’d imagined it. “Yes, but you seemed upset and—”

  “Not because you expected the worst of me,” he interrupted. His tone was gentled with a smile. “You have every reason to.”

  She frowned at the reminder. More accurately, she frowned at the fact that she needed to be reminded. Her anger, which she’d thought she could count on, kept flitting away from her like some sort of elusive beast.

  “So then why were you upset?” she asked. Also, why did she care? Why could she not simply shrug and walk away? The man should suffer. It was only right.

  “The truth?” He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. “I was overset at the idea of you in another man’s bed.”

  She stared. She blinked. Her mouth opened and then closed again. Meanwhile, his words hung between them.

  “You’re teasing,” she said abruptly.

  He widened his eyes. “I assure you, I am not.” Was it possible he sounded offended? No, that wasn’t right.

  Surely he was mocking her and…and…and yet she couldn’t convince herself of that when he insisted on meeting her gaze head on in such a way that she couldn’t look away.

  It wasn’t just the honesty she saw there that hypnotized her, it was something deeper, darker, and far more intimate. He moved closer and it felt as though the intensity in his gaze wrapped around her along with the heat from his body. He didn’t stop until she was so close she could touch him.

  She wouldn’t, but she could.

  “Tell me, Eliza. With this little arrangement of ours, are we to be honest with one another?”