Her Wicked Proposal: The League of Rogues, Book 3

by Lauren Smith

  “You’ve become soft-hearted, Cedric.” There was love in Charles’s chastisement that only the deepest of friendships could produce.

  “If I have, let me never harden my heart again.”

  “Cheers to that,” Charles commended before he sobered. “Oh, you’d best rescue your wife. Lady Dalrumple and her sister seem to be talking her into oblivion.”

  “What? Lead me over, will you?” Cedric latched onto Charles’s arm as the pair threaded their way through the guests. Cedric knew when they’d reached their destination because Lady Dalrumple’s shrill voice threatened to shatter his eardrums.

  “You! Lord Sheridan, have done a very reckless thing. I was just telling your wife—”

  “I beg your pardon?” Cedric cut into her screeching.

  “Marriage within a week of Lord Chessley’s death? It is unheard of!”

  “Unheard of!” Lady Dalrumple’s sister chimed in.

  “I’m most sorry you feel that way, Lady Dalrumple. I admit I have a fondness for setting new trends in society,” Cedric replied, pasting a charming smile on his face. “No doubt by next season it will be all the rage within the ton.”

  “Such impudence!” Lady Dalrumple turned her attentions back to Anne. “Have you no shame, Lady Sheridan? You have spit upon the ethics of genteel society and I will not stand for it. Know this, I shall take it upon myself to singlehandedly turn you out of polite society altogether!”

  Cedric heard Anne’s breath hitch. His own fury rose in a violent tempest. Grasping the thin threads of control, he resumed his polite demeanor.

  “That is not the least bit distressing to me,” Cedric said with a smirk. “In fact, I would consider it a favor if your influence could achieve such a Herculean task. My wife and I have much more entertaining things to do with ourselves than attend balls and galas. Now I believe I should escort you from our home. It would not do to have your reputation sullied by your presence here.” Cedric released his hold on Charles and with luck he found the feeble form of Lady Dalrumple’s arm.

  “Come, madam, I’ll see you to the door,” he said loudly. As he started to drag the stuttering matron along, he prayed he would not run into anything. As for the lady…

  Lady Dalrumple suddenly squawked in pain.

  “Oh, so sorry. Always thought this door was too narrow.” Cedric’s mocking apology earned a snicker from Charles.

  “Why you—oomph!” Lady Dalrumple’s reply was cut short when Cedric’s boot caused her to stumble. His free hand found the door latch and he swung the door open.

  “Ahh, here’s the door. Have a lovely day, madam, and please do not come again. Ta!” Cedric practically shoved her through the doorway as her sister ran after her.

  “You cannot live without the benefits of society, Lord Sheridan!” Lady Dalrumple shouted.

  “Actually we can, and will do so most happily. Now if you’ll excuse me I wish to go and ravish my wife.” Cedric slammed the door and sighed, leaning against the stout oak for support. Then he caught the scent of wild orchids teasing the air.

  “Anne?” The sound of satin skirts glided over the floor in his direction. Before he could say a word, his body was enveloped by hers. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and wrapped her arms about him.

  “Are you terribly upset with me?” Anne asked.

  Cedric was genuinely puzzled. “Why on earth would I be upset?”

  “I came to you with this early marriage scheme, and now you’ve made powerful enemies.”

  “Powerful enemies? Darling, please. Lady Dalrumple is but an irritating gnat. She buzzes and annoys, but is entirely harmless. I’m not even sure how she got an invitation. However, if you believe you feel indebted to me in some fashion, I would be delighted to give you a few ideas as to how to make it up to me.”

  “Why do I suspect that this will involve a ravishing of my person?” Anne laughed. Cedric reveled in the delight of feeling her body shake with laughter. He settled his hands on her hips, holding her against him as he pressed his lips against her forehead.

  “I would beg a kiss, lady wife.”

  “Just one?”

  “A long one, preferably,” he clarified.

  “Very well.” Anne’s hands slid up his back, tracing his muscles and the slopes of his shoulder blades as she rose up on tiptoe to kiss him.

  As their lips met Cedric closed his eyes, sinking deeper into that gray he could never escape. But when he held Anne, when he kissed her like this, he could almost feel his sight return. A tingling seemed to spread through him, and for a brief second he thought he saw stars. Anne deepened the kiss, and he readily surrendered all that he was to her gentle sweetness. As much as he loved dominating her senses, he loved it more when she did more than simply react to him, when she acted as though she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. Their lips parted with a soft pop, and Anne sighed dreamily.

  “Do we have to return to the breakfast?” Cedric murmured in the hollow of her throat as he trailed kisses along her skin. He delighted in how her body responded.

  “We must. It would be quite inappropriate, even for us, if we disappeared from our own wedding breakfast. Especially after throwing out a guest, gnat or no.”

  Cedric groaned in defeat and reluctantly let Anne pull out of his arms. The loss of her warmth felt like a gaping hole in his chest.

  “Very well.” Cedric took Anne’s arm and they returned to the morning room.

  * * * * *

  The last of the guests finally left sometime after four in the afternoon. Anne and Cedric collapsed in exhaustion in the parlor. Anne’s head itched terribly from the veil and wreath, and at last she allowed herself to take it off. As she plucked pins out of her coiffure, she watched Cedric settle back against the couch next to her.

  “I say, we did a bang-up job, my heart. What do you think?”

  “Excluding the unpleasantness of Lady Dalrumple, I would certainly agree.” She eased the wreath from her hair and set it down on the floor. Next came the veil, and Anne let the lace float to the floor before she sighed with relief. Its weight no longer burdened her head, and the beginnings of a nasty headache faded before they could take root.

  “Everything all right?” Cedric asked.

  “Yes. I finally got rid of that veil and wreath.”

  “Come here,” Cedric said.

  “Why?” Anne was too tired to fight him off if he decided to finally ravish her.

  “Please, come here.”

  He opened his arms, and the gesture struck her as sweet. It made her feel needed, and not just in the ways of the flesh. She hesitated for only a moment. The second she was close enough, Cedric gripped her waist and pulled her onto his lap. He adjusted his body so he lounged back along the length of the couch. He pulled Anne’s body to lie on top of his, her back to his chest. Anne rested her hands on his thighs and moved softly as his hands settled on her shoulders, rubbing the tension out and kneading the stressful spots away.

  “Let your head fall back.”

  Anne obeyed willingly, her head finding a perfect place on his shoulder to rest.

  “That feels like heaven.” Anne felt like a purring cat, content to let her master stroke and massage her forever.

  “Who knew my wife would be so easily seduced?” Cedric chuckled, his warm breath fanning her right ear in a pleasant sort of way.

  Anne’s eyelids felt heavy. “Today was lovely, wasn’t it?” She fought to stay awake, but she failed.

  “I’m just relieved it was not a disaster,” he said.

  She slipped into sleep, letting his touch envelop her with warmth.

  Once Anne went limp in his arms, Cedric knew she was completely at his mercy. Rather than take advantage of this as the old Cedric would have, he felt compelled to protect her instead. Cedric continued his gentle ministrations until Anne’s breathing d
eepened into the slow, soft pattern of sleep. He wanted to stay there with her body wrapped in his, but their position wasn’t ideal for his comfort if he wished to rest as well.

  “Time for bed,” he whispered, not that his bride could hear him. He eased her off him and then got up to open the parlor door. He summoned a maid to turn down her bed and retrieve Anne’s nightgown from her packed trunk. There was no way that he would be taking her to his townhouse on Curzon Street tonight.

  Cedric had spent a lot of time in the last few days acquainting himself with the layout of Chessley Manor. It proved to be useful now as he scooped Anne up into his arms and began a careful journey down the hall to her room. With some assistance from the maid and a couple of softly spoken warnings, he set Anne down on the freshly washed sheets.

  “Shall I undress her?” the maid offered.

  “Yes, thank you. I daresay I would do it myself, but I don’t wish to wake her by trying.” Cedric took a chair by the empty fireplace and listened to the rustle of fabric as the maid prepared Anne for sleep.

  “She’s ready, my lord,” the maid whispered and quietly saw herself out.

  Cedric found his way back to the bed and took off his boots, frock coat and waistcoat. When he got down to just his trousers he felt good enough to relax, but not enough to shock Anne if she woke to find herself under the covers with him.

  Small steps, he reminded himself. He slid Anne under the counterpane of the bed, pausing as she stirred and muttered something unintelligible.

  “Rest now.” He stroked her hair back from her face and then got into bed with her, tucking her body into his. She nestled deeply into his arms and sighed like a tired babe. The feel of her against him was wonderful, heavenly. In all of his years of chasing and bedding women, he’d finally caught the one he never wanted to let go.

  * * * * *

  Anne woke early in the morning, the dawn’s pale light only a drab gray presence behind the curtains. Although the bed was empty, she had the strangest notion that it hadn’t been a short while ago. Blinking and delicately yawning, she stretched her limbs and got up.

  She then realized she was still in her own home, her bedchamber at Chessley Manor. She had never made it to Cedric’s townhouse last night after the long celebration. What had happened? Surely the man hadn’t wanted to be deprived of his wedding night? Anne vaguely recalled easing into Cedric’s lap in the parlor and getting drowsy beneath his gentle touch. After that, her memory faded. Where was her husband now?

  Husband. It was such an odd word, and it had forced its way into her daily vocabulary now.

  “Madam?” A young upstairs maid poked her head inside Anne’s bedchamber.

  “Come in, Nellie.”

  The maid bore a tray of tea and scones that smelled delicious. Anne’s stomach rumbled in agreement.

  “His lordship thought you might be hungry.”

  “I am.” Her stomach made another impatient noise as Nellie set the tray down on the bed.

  “Nellie, is my husband still here?”

  “He just left ten minutes ago. He instructed me to tell you that he has made preparations for a departure to Brighton in a few hours. I’ve already packed all of your best clothes. His lordship said anything else you need can be bought in Brighton later.”

  Anne took a sip of tea and tried to remain calm. They were leaving so soon? The thought of leaving her life here behind, even just for a month-long honeymoon, was frightening. It would be just her and Cedric at his estate. It wasn’t that she didn’t want this private time with him, but she was afraid they still knew so little about each other. Above all things, Anne loathed awkward silences.

  “You’ve already packed everything?” Anne asked Nellie, though she already knew the answer.

  “Yes, madam. Oh! I plum forgot, his lordship left this for you.” Nellie handed Anne a small blue velvet box. Anne took it and opened it with a small amount of trepidation. Inside was a beautiful garnet stone surrounded by a ring of tiny diamonds. There was no chain, only a heavy satin ribbon with a metal clasp at the back.

  “What’s this?” Anne asked Nellie.

  “He told me to tell you that he thought you would like to wear it when you choose to remove the ring he gave you. He knows you love to ride and a ring would snag on your gloves. He feared if that happened you might be tempted to remove it often and it might get lost. Do you wish me to help you put it on?”

  “Oh yes, please do.”

  Anne marveled at the striking burgundy of the garnet and the subtle shimmer of the elegant diamonds. She had never been one for expensive jewels, but this simple yet sizeable piece seemed made just for her. How could he know she would love it? Treasure it as she had never done for other jewels, save the ring he’d given her that had belonged to his mother?

  Nellie sighed dreamily. “His lordship has fine taste.”

  “He does, doesn’t he? I only wish I knew what gift I could give him.” She knew a box of fine cigars or engraved snuffboxes would not have the same effect. She wanted to get him something wonderful, something he would never wish to be without. But what gift could measure up to that impossible standard?

  Anne spent the remainder of the morning seeing to the household and the servants before she left for Brighton. The housekeeper had things well in hand, and Anne knew she could rest easily during their time away. Anne was tidying up her study when she heard the clatter of hooves and wheels outside. She scampered down the stairs like a puppy, surprised to find herself eager to see Cedric. They almost collided in the entryway.

  “Darling, there you are,” Cedric grunted as he held on to her to keep her from pitching them both to the ground. With an arm twined about her waist, he bent his head down carefully to place a tender kiss on her forehead.

  The gesture was sweet, domestic, entirely unlike Cedric’s usual kisses, but no less endearing. She had never known there could be more than one type of kiss, and now she wanted them all, several hundred of each and every kind.

  Cedric grinned. “You were in a hurry.”

  “I was running and heard the horses. I wanted to see you—” She never got to finish. Cedric’s lips claimed hers in a silencing possession. There was amusement in this kiss, yet there was a slow burning fire that built behind that teasing, like a second glass of scotch with its rich warmth.

  “I’m sorry I ran into you,” she mumbled between kisses.

  “Never apologize for having childlike exuberance. I find it charming. I didn’t want to marry a graceful swanlike creature. I wanted a woman who would go bounding in meadows and walking through forests trails with me.”

  “You make me sound like a faithful hound,” Anne mused sarcastically.

  “Nonsense. I make the dogs sleep out in the stables. You, however, belong with me, always. What say you to that?” Cedric pinched at her bottom, and Anne punched his chest with a balled fist.

  “You’re incorrigible.”

  “I’m a rogue, my heart, you’d best get used to it.”

  Anne allowed Cedric to usher her outside and into the waiting coach. She bid farewell to the manor and to the only home she’d ever known. Ahead of her lay unknown horizons.

  * * * * *

  Damn that fool Englishman. I’ll handle this in the manner I wish.

  Samir Al Zahrani had followed the Sheridan coach at a distance down the well-traveled road to Brighton. But as the couple’s coach had taken the lesser-populated country roads toward the estate, Samir had been forced to drop back out of sight, lest Sheridan’s driver realize they were being trailed. Using the road’s natural underbrush as cover, he was able to guide his horse through the forest at the edge of the trail and avoid being observed.

  When at last the carriage turned onto the drive that led to the massive country house of Rushton Steading, Samir flicked his reins against his beast’s neck, steering him farther into the forest.
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  The Englishman, Sir Hugo Waverly… Yes, Samir had done his own research and discovered who the man was, or at least rumored to be. He had advised him to wait for the perfect moment and then snatch Sheridan and his bride from the house and take them to the port.

  But Samir had no intention of following Waverly’s instructions. If he took Sheridan and his wife ahead of schedule, he could have his ship leave port early. His men were back in town, waiting for instructions. It would have been too conspicuous to bring them along while he was still learning his enemy’s lands and discerning how protected Sheridan was from attack.

  Glancing up at the skies, Samir frowned. Thick storm clouds were building on the horizon, and a cold wind was starting to gather strength.

  English weather. He sneered. Icy, wet and suffocating. It would be a relief to get what he came for and depart for home.

  I shall suffer this weather tonight, but not for much longer. He dismounted from his horse and started walking it through the woods, slowing as he approached the distant house. He’d likely have to bide his time, but he would do what was necessary to retrieve his horses from the Sheridan stables and, more importantly, exact his revenge.

  Chapter Twelve

  Anne had developed a painful habit of handwringing by the time she and Cedric arrived at the Sheridan estate on the outskirts of Brighton. Rushton Steading, the vast ancestral home of the Sheridan family, was intimidating. The estate was mainly wooded areas where dark copses of trees hunkered down at the road’s edge like silent sentinels. Anne drew in a shocked breath as their traveling coach rounded the nearest outcropping of forest and her new world opened up before her. The house itself was a grand mansion made of white stone, a bright beacon amidst the heavy emerald backdrop.

  “Do you like it?” Cedric’s voice was soft against her neck as he breathed in her scent.

  Anne couldn’t help but admire the multi-windowed edifice. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. I can see why you’ve favored hunting and riding, Cedric—this land is built for such activities.”

  “My father and I spent many hours in those woods with rifles and hounds.” Cedric’s voice was rough as emotion rippled through his words.