A Gentleman's Gamble (Devilish Lords Book 3)

by Maggie Dallen

  She nodded. “And that is everything.”

  He met her gaze and was struck by the intimacy of this moment, almost as intimate as that kiss. Maybe even more so in its own way. “I have much to repay.”

  She cleared her throat and glanced away. “Yes, well, once you have my dowry—”

  “That was not what I meant.”

  Her eyes flicked back to meet his. “I know.”

  He held her gaze, but it wasn’t harsh judgment he saw there, nor sympathy. It was understanding. He wasn’t certain he deserved her understanding, let alone her forgiveness. But he owed it to them both to prove himself worthy of it. He shifted so he was leaning forward once more, his voice lowered. “Earning back trust is a tricky feat.”

  For a woman he’d long thought of as hard and severe, her expression was surprisingly gentle. “Surely your siblings see that you’re attempting to change your ways.”

  He gave a small smile at the mention of his brothers and sisters. “Yes. In fact, my siblings are the most forgiving lot I’ve ever met. I’m not sure there’s anything I could do that would turn them off me for good.” He took a sip of his ale. “If they haven’t given up on me by now, I do believe there’s nothing they wouldn’t forgive.”

  She returned his smile. “So there you are. You have nothing left to prove.”

  He shrugged. “Perhaps not to my family.”

  She tilted her head to the side in question. “To whom do you need to make reparations other than your family?”

  He was nearly certain she was referring to money, but money was the last thing on his mind. “You.”

  She blinked. A long silence followed before she said uncertainly. “Me?”

  He met her confused gaze.

  “But…I am nothing to you.”

  She sounded so sincere he nearly laughed. “Only my wife.”

  She rolled her eyes and the move was so uncharacteristically juvenile it made him laugh outright. “Not yet.”

  He waved a hand, dismissing her protest. “We’ll be husband and wife soon enough. It is as good as done.” That sentiment was remarkably unromantic, yet it was enough to cause a now-familiar stirring within him at the thought of marriage with this woman and all that entailed.

  She heaved an exasperated sigh. “In name only.”

  And there it was. The topic that had been looming ever since that kiss, which opened his eyes to all that would be out of reach once they acquired her dowry and went their separate ways. For him, at least, it was a topic that had never quite felt resolved. They might have been near strangers once. They’d been at odds, if not enemies outright. But nothing was the same. He’d changed, and she’d even admitted that she too had altered.

  He tapped his fingers on his mug. “About that…”

  She frowned. “Our arrangement?”

  He gave a short nod. “I’d like to discuss the parameters you’ve established.”

  Her frown deepened and something like fear flickered in her eyes. That gave him pause.

  “Are you hoping to renegotiate the terms of this agreement?” she asked. There was definitely a hint of fear in her voice, or perhaps it was wariness.

  He stalled, uncertain how to answer. Did he want to renegotiate? Yes! Bloody hell, yes!

  There was that voice again—a voice more devilish and tempting than the one that urged him to place another bet. The voice was so strong he didn’t trust himself to speak straight away.

  Her wariness and his inner devil gave him pause. He had to tread carefully or frighten her away. She might be strong and fierce on the outside but he was getting glimpses of the woman beneath her iron armor. He’d seen her hands shake when she’d proposed, he’d heard the slight tremble in her voice when speaking of the forced marriage she was hoping to avoid. He’d heard the love in her voice when she mentioned her sister, Mary, and the laughter in her voice when she poked fun at herself. He’d felt her soften in his arms. He’d felt her gentleness, her passion, her sweet tenderness in his embrace.

  It was an honor, he realized. He was privileged to be one of few in this world privy to the multiple facets of this complicated woman.

  This complicated woman…who was waiting warily for his answer. Did he want to renegotiate the arrangement? Yes. There was a very large part of him that craved all the things he’d thought he’d lost along with his fortune. A true marriage with children and a home of his own. But then, there were other aspects he hadn’t even known he’d wanted until he’d gotten to know Eliza. Her, in his bed, for instance. That was a surprise. He hadn’t known he could ever fantasize about Eliza as his wife—the idea had been preposterous a mere week ago.

  But it was amazing what one long carriage ride, two kisses, and countless shared glances and pleasant conversations could do over the course of a week. This woman had gone from enemy to friend, from haunting specter of past misdeeds to a temptation in his midst.

  She leaned forward now too, and he could see the concern in her eyes as she waited for him to respond.

  Yes, he was tempted by her and by what they could have. But she very clearly did not feel the same. How could she? He could hardly expect her to want the same things. It was a wonder she was entrusting him with her dowry and her livelihood, let alone offering her heart.

  No, much as he might have been moved by their new intimacy, and much as those kisses may have awakened an attraction to Eliza that could not be denied—there was no way he could ask for more.

  Not to that degree, at least.

  So after that long, weighty pause, he finally answered. “No, not renegotiate.”

  Her obvious relief would have been amusing if it were not so damned depressing. “But,” he added quickly, making her stiffen in response.

  “But what?”

  He reached for her hand and was inordinately pleased when she didn’t pull away. He tried not to get carried away by the jolt of awareness that made this innocent touch feel so much more intimate than it was.

  He cleared his throat. “But…perhaps we could be friends?”

  She stared at him for a moment. “Friends.” It wasn’t so much a question as a clarification. As though perhaps she hadn’t heard him right.

  He lifted one shoulder and told her the truth. “I do not have many remaining.”

  After another pause, one side of her mouth quirked up in a rueful smile. “I do not have many…at all.”

  He grinned and her genuine smile in response made him feel temporarily weightless. He was intoxicated by a grin. Smiles such as these from Eliza were a rare thing, and that just made them that much more precious.

  He turned his hand over so it was facing palm up, but his gaze didn’t leave hers. “So, friends then?”

  She hesitated for only a moment before slipping her hand into his and giving it a firm handshake. “Friends.”

  Chapter Seven

  They headed back immediately after the wedding, if the term “wedding” could be applied to such a simplistic, utterly anticlimactic event. Eliza found herself thinking about what Jed had said only days before. About how this was all quite uneventful considering they were running off together.

  She found herself smiling as she looked out at the countryside. Perhaps she ought not to have been so thorough with her lies and her stories so they could have been part of some mad chase.

  “What are you smiling about, wife?”

  Her smile grew as she turned to face Jed. Wife. The word still gave her a thrill, even though she knew better than anyone how hollow it was in their instance.

  “Just imagining how different this might have been if anyone knew what we were doing.”

  He studied her expression. “Are you worried about the response at home?”

  She shook her head though that was a bit of a lie. She dreaded seeing her father and explaining what she’d done. But far more than that she wanted it to be over and done with. She twisted the ends of her shawl in her lap. “I am nervous about the dowry. I’m gambling everything on my father’s
pride. We both are. What if—”

  She cut herself off. It was bad enough that she was dwelling on these fears, she should not be sharing them with Jed as well. She ought to at least act as though she had all the confidence in the world.

  He leaned forward. “Don’t be nervous.”

  She resisted the urge to let out a snort of amusement. Don’t be. What a very optimistic and utterly meaningless reassurance. So very like a man.

  But then he added, “Even without the dowry, I could provide for you.”

  Her gaze snapped to his, waiting for something else. Some sort of condition or scheme. Surely he couldn’t be serious. “But that was the whole point of this endeavor,” she said. “To give us both our financial freedom. I would not expect you to come to my aid if—”

  He gripped her hand in his and his expression was shockingly serious. “I am your husband, Eliza.” His tone held no room for argument. “If your father cuts you off without a cent, I will take care of you.”

  She tried to ignore the effect his words had on her, though it was rather difficult to feign indifference when her heart was twisting into knots within her chest. She scrambled to focus on the logistics rather than the sentiment.

  “That is kind of you, but I’m sure with some help from my friend I would make out all right. If I invest it wisely and…” She petered off, licking her lips as that fluttering feeling in her belly settled and his expression grew unreadable.

  When he sat back in his seat, releasing her fingers, she clasped her hands together and turned to look once more out the window. His words unnerved her but she could not quite place why.

  Perhaps because she had convinced herself on this return voyage that nothing had changed between them. And indeed, in many ways, nothing had. There was the same ease, if not more so as their comfort grew with one another.

  Now that they had officially declared themselves as friends that familiarity had grown a hundredfold. She found herself speaking to Jed as she would Henrietta, or even Mary.

  It was alarming, but in the most pleasant way. She hadn’t been aware she could be friends with a man, but a friend he turned out to be.

  Yet, in other ways, something had changed between them and this latest odd interaction was another sign of that shift. It was all too easy to forget that they were wed, until the moment came when they arrived at a roadside inn and requested separate rooms. Until they had to sleep in adjoining rooms, lying awake as she thought about how close they were and how her thoughts were not those of a friend. Not even a little bit.

  And then she’d find herself wondering if he was having the same thoughts and it was a wonder she got any sleep at all. Like a runaway carriage her mind would follow that thought into the dark shadows of her memory where she held and savored her memories of his kiss.

  Those precious moments when she’d understood what it meant to be wanted and cherished and…well, not loved. But something so close it was tantalizingly bittersweet.

  “We should be there by nightfall,” Jed said, interrupting her from her silly thoughts.

  There was London. They’d decided to do the hardest part first. They’d spend the night at the townhouse Davenport had bought for the Cleveland siblings and face her father first thing in the morning.

  Cold fear quickly replaced any lingering thoughts of kisses. This was it. The moment approached that would spell out their future.

  “We will merely state the facts,” she reminded Jed, though she was certain her words were more to comfort herself as him.

  He gave her a small reassuring smile. “I know the plan, Eliza.” He leaned forward again and this time he squeezed her hand quickly before releasing her. “And it will work. You have thought through everything.”

  Not everything, it turned out.

  Her father loomed over her in his study. How had everything gone so bloody wrong? Not since she was a child had Eliza felt so deflated. “He’s…gone?”

  At some point she’d fallen into the seat behind her, shock making her limbs feel heavy and her head buzz with confusion even as her belly filled with dread.

  He was gone. Jed was gone. They’d arrived at her father’s house together just a few hours before. She’d offered to go alone, and so had he, but in the end they’d decided they would face him together.

  Partners, Jed had said. They would face him together as partners.

  The word had warmed her last night and again this morning when they’d faced her father in this same study and he’d held her hand firmly as they’d faced this overbearing older man side by side.

  The word continued to echo through her skull but now it mocked her. Partners. Were they partners? What sort of partner fled without warning? What sort of partner left her to face her father alone?

  “I do not understand,” she murmured.

  She had thoughts of struggling to stand but could not summon the energy necessary to rise. Instead she found herself staring at her father’s rotund stomach as though that bulbous belly might explain how her terrifically plotted plan had crumbled to pieces so spectacularly.

  “He’s gone,” her father said again, not even trying to hide his smugness. “And he will not be returning.”

  Her skin tingled as her blood pounded loudly in her ears. “What have you done?” Her voice was little more than a hiss. She sounded every inch the spinster shrew she’d seen herself as…until recently. Until Jed had kissed her and made her laugh like she was a young woman and not a spinster on the shelf.

  She pushed herself up to her full height and faced her father with his frustratingly knowing gaze. “What have you done?” she asked again.

  Her father’s lips twisted up in a cruel smile. “You didn’t really think you could thwart my wishes, did you, child?” He used the term child as an insult rather than an endearment.

  Her stomach roiled with age-old hatred. That might sound harsh but it was true. She’d tried to love her father once upon a time. But he’d made it clear over and over again that he didn’t see her or her sister as anything more than a disappointment since they didn’t have the genitalia that could allow them to take over his business.

  He seemed to despise them, and her most of all since she had no redeeming value. At least, not until his business partner had expressed an interest in claiming her for his wife.

  “It is already done,” she said, lifting her chin in defiance. Despite her sinking stomach she had to believe that her father was bluffing. She didn’t know what had become of Jed but he wouldn’t just disappear on her. “We are married. We are partners.”

  The word sounded silly when she said it aloud and her father let out a disgusted snort. “And did you by chance consummate this partnership?”

  She stared at her father, hating the fact that her cheeks were burning at the intimate question and hating even more that he already seemed to know the answer.

  No. Of course not. She might be willing to sell her dowry and her meager inheritance for her freedom, but her dignity? Her pride?

  Her body?

  She shuddered as her mistake came back to haunt her. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t been tempted. And perhaps she ought to have let their natural chemistry and his dark, lustful gazes lead to something more.

  They’d had plenty of opportunities to make it a real marriage, but she hadn’t wanted to. Or rather, she had wanted to…too much. And that had scared her. But rather than face her own fear, she’d been a fool and not thought ahead to this eventuality. Yet if they both lied…

  “What did he say?” she asked.

  He sneered. “He did not have to say anything.” His gaze roamed over her from her severe hairstyle to her dowdy gown. “No one would believe this was some love match.”

  He spat the words at her as an insult as he moved around her, assessing her value as one would livestock.

  Lord but she wanted to strike her father’s cruel smirk off his pale, pasty face.

  Mainly because he was right. No one would believe it because it wasn’t tr
ue. Jed would never have chosen her if she hadn’t tempted him with her dowry. And now…and now, where was he?

  She hated her father’s smugness, she hated that he knew the answer. But most of all she hated how much she missed Jed in this moment.

  How much she needed him.

  When had that happened? And how?

  She was Miss Eliza Beaucraft, for heaven’s sake. Everyone knew she had no need of a man, or anyone, for that matter. She didn’t need marriage, she had no desire for children…not anymore, at least.

  So why on earth did she feel so bereft? So lonely?

  She didn’t want to ask again but she nearly trembled with the need to know what he’d said to make Jed leave. Why had he left her?

  Luckily, she didn’t need to ask. Her father was just as eager to share his triumph. “You’d thought you won, you stupid girl, but you have no idea what games you play.”

  She trembled, but clasped her hands so he could not see. This was a different man from the silent, grim one who’d listened to their story of falling in love and running away. That man had been coldly angry.

  He’d been calculating, she realized now. He’d listened quietly and calmly before asking for some time alone to attend to business.

  As she and Jed waited, he’d held her hands in his and attempted to calm her. The worst of it is over now. You are free.

  Beautiful words when he’d said them, but they echoed hollow and sad now when he was nowhere in sight.

  Her father circled behind her before coming to a stop in front of her, his face so close to hers she could smell his breath, with its familiar rank from tobacco and tea. “He left, you stupid cow, because all he ever wanted was my money.” He shrugged. “So my money was what I gave him.”

  She would be sick, she was sure of it. Her insides twisted painfully at the truth behind those words. The man might be cruel but he was being honest. He’d offered Jed money and…