Felicity glared up at him. “You wouldn’t!”
“I didn’t,” he corrected. “But I certainly would—and I will, if you press the point.”
She had the oddest combination of feelings at the very idea. Outrage, certainly, that he would manipulate or threaten her—perhaps even blackmail her into remaining his mistress. Yet she felt a sort of singing happiness that he cared enough—that he wanted her enough—to use such tactics.
She told herself briskly not to be a fool. It wasn’t a matter of him caring for her; it was simply his pride that was at stake. She had ended their affair before he was ready to do so; that was all. In any case, she had already made up her mind, with good reason for her decision. Whatever methods he intended to use would not move her from her determination.
Remember, she told herself, you cannot take the risk.
Unless she already was carrying his child. Then there would be nothing more to lose by remaining his mistress…
Except what remains of your heart, she reminded herself.
They had reached the steps of Number 5 Upper Seymour Street. Mason swung the door open, and with difficulty Felicity removed her hand from Richard’s arm. Her glove seemed to want to stick to the midnight-blue wool of his sleeve, and she tried to peel her fingers away without making it obvious that she really did not wish to break the contact. “Good evening, my lord. Thank you for seeing me home.”
“I’m coming in.”
“I beg your pardon?” She put on her haughtiest tone. “You were not invited.”
He smiled at her, and as if she hadn’t spoken, he ushered her up the steps, nodding politely to the butler.
Mason bowed and closed the door behind them. He took Felicity’s cloak and Richard’s hat and murmured, “There is a freshly laid fire in the green sitting room, Miss Mercer.”
The green sitting room. The cozy little room next to the main bedroom… as if the servants had expected she would want to receive a caller there tonight…
Felicity led the way to the drawing room instead, where a fire also burned. Her heart had begun to pound erratically. Why had he insisted on coming into the house? “Bring his lordship a glass of port, Mason,” she murmured.
“Don’t bother, Mason,” Richard said. “And don’t come back.”
“Very good, my lord.” The butler bowed and went away.
Felicity stared after him. “Now even my servants obey you, rather than me?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, as soon as the door closed firmly behind Mason, Richard came across the room to her.
“Our affair is over, my lord,” she said. She fumbled at the neckline of her dress and unfastened the thin gold chain that held Roger’s ring. She held it in her palm for an instant and then thrust it toward him. “Here. This was never mine. I meant to give it to you this afternoon, but I forgot.”
Richard took the ring, looked at it for a long moment, and dropped it into his pocket. “By rights, it belongs to the Earl of Colford’s heir. I will hold it in trust until the next one is ready for it.”
The Earl of Colford’s heir… a boy who would be Richard’s son—but not Felicity’s. Everything around her suddenly looked dreary and flat. “Now it is truly finished, and I wish to put all this behind me. So please go.”
Richard slipped an arm around her. “Why, Felicity? Why are you ending our affair?”
She tried to hold herself rigid. “I don’t believe I need to give you a reason.”
“And that is where you’re wrong. Tell me you didn’t enjoy our lovemaking, and I’ll stop.”
“I didn’t enjoy—”
“You’re lying through your teeth.” He brushed the corner of her mouth with his fingertip, and Felicity quivered at the reminder of other caresses. “What was it you wanted to discuss with Thorne tonight, Felicity?”
“That is none of your business, my lord.”
“Richard,” he said softly, and let the backs of his fingers slide gently down her cheek. “You haven’t said my name since we made love yesterday.”
“I suppose you wanted me to call you that in front of Lord Hawthorne?”
“It would have been interesting to see Lady Hawthorne’s reaction,” he murmured. His mouth trailed slowly along her throat, and her breath caught. “I thought perhaps you were interested in Thorne’s views of appropriate marriage settlements.”
“It is not my concern whom you marry, my lord. I regret if my foolish comment led you to believe I was interested.”
He smiled down at her. “But I wasn’t referring to my marriage settlements. I was asking about yours. Is it your intention to marry Jason Rivers?”
She was startled. How could he possibly have known that she had received an offer? Jason Rivers’ intentions had not been obvious to her; how could Richard have seen, in the fleeting moments when both men had been in her drawing room, what was going to unfold?
“Why should I not?” Felicity asked tartly. “You yourself suggested that I look among men of my own class for a husband.”
“I did say that, didn’t I?”
That was not at all the answer Felicity had hoped for—which would have been something like, Because I want you to marry me instead… Richard didn’t seem to be concerned by the recollection, though the casual way he said it stabbed into Felicity’s heart.
“I think it is time for you to go, my lord.”
“Richard,” he repeated, and nibbled at the corner of her mouth. “Say it, Felicity—or I’m never going away.”
“Richard,” she breathed, with a catch in her voice. “Now will you go?”
“No,” he whispered against her lips.
“You told me you’d leave.”
“I lied. Because when you say my name, it inflames me, my Lady Desire. It makes me want you under me, begging me to repeat everything I’ve ever done to you and then to find new ways to delight us both.” He pulled her closer, letting her feel the strength of his arousal. “And I think you want that, too.”
“That will not happen.” She had to grit her teeth against the rush of wanting, the heat that pooled at her very center.
“Because you think to marry Rivers? I won’t let you, you know.”
“Why?” she snapped. “Because it would be too inconvenient to have a married mistress? I can’t think why that would stand in your way.”
He smiled at her. “Not at all. It’s not scruples about you being married that would deter me, Felicity, for I know that Rivers could never be truly in your heart. It’s merely the distance. York would be such a long way to go when I’m hungry for you… especially when I’m hungry for you all the time.” He was stroking her back from shoulder to thigh, each touch of his hand bringing her even closer to melting into his body. “Tell me why you’re so anxious to end our affair. Do you believe you’re already with child and your goal has been achieved?”
“I’ve changed my mind.”
“You don’t want a child anymore?”
She seized hold of the last of her self-control, braced herself, and thrust out at him. “I do not wish to bear your child, my lord.”
“Because it would not be Roger’s child?” he asked softly.
She had expected that her cruel words would make him go cold and even more patrician than before, that he might thrust her from himself and turn away in disgust. Instead, he held her more closely still, but this time he was cradling her with comfort rather than sensuality. And something about his voice made her tell the truth. “No, not that. I… I cannot give my child the burden of being nameless. Of never knowing his father.”
“Then the answer is clear.” His eyes were suddenly brilliant again. “You must marry me.”
The room seemed to sway around Felicity. “That’s impossible. Your mother would never allow…”
“My mother has nothing to say about who I marry—any more than she did when Roger married Blanche. Or than she would have had to say about his choice if Roger had wanted to marry you.”
“He did want…�
� She stopped dead as the full import of his words registered. Blanche had been Roger’s wife? But Anne and Lady Stone had called her Lady Colford—how was that possible? Unless…
Richard’s voice was gentle. “I had no idea until last night that Roger had told you he was the younger son, rather than the heir. He must have thought that would make you believe that his choices and his life were not his own.”
“Roger was the Earl of Colford?”
“After our father’s death, yes. I can only conclude that he believed if you had known he was actually next in line for the title, it might have been more difficult to persuade you that his supposed love for you was a forlorn and hopeless thing.”
“Roger lied to me.” Her lips felt stiff, cold. Saying the words seemed to make them sink into her soul—and made Roger feel more distant from her than even his death had done.
“I was going to break it to you as gently as possible this afternoon, but you offered me no opportunity to do so. The fact is there was no discussion of you in the family. I knew nothing of you—of any of Roger’s activities in York. My parents did not forbid him to marry you—or any other woman, come to that. My mother did not object to you as a potential bride—in fact, she had no idea you existed until last night.”
“You told her?”
“It’s a great deal more than Roger did,” Richard said coolly. “My mother has given me her word that he never mentioned you, and I believe her—for I knew Roger. He didn’t return from York until after our father died, and he said nothing to our mother about having fallen in love there. He married Blanche shortly thereafter.”
“While he was in mourning for your father?” Felicity was shocked.
Richard nodded. “Blanche was not able to have fancy festivities nor an elaborate wedding gown—but she did gain a title. Just a few months afterward, Roger himself died.”
“So just as poor Blanche was about to take off her black gloves for the old Earl, she found herself suddenly a widow. No wonder…” Felicity stopped short, remembering Lady Stone’s words. Just because she’s weary of being in mourning is no excuse for making Richard’s life a living hell when he’s grieving for his brother. So Blanche had become tired of mourning for her husband? Felicity was very glad the woman hadn’t been receiving with Lady Alice that afternoon.
“So of course you didn’t ask her to leave the town house,” Felicity said softly. “Because even after Roger died, there was a chance she might still have his child—and a boy would have been the heir.”
“It quickly became apparent that was not the case,” Richard said, a little stiffly. “But it had been her home. She had every reason to want to stay there for a while.”
Curiosity swept over her. “What did you do? Where have you lived?”
“I had—still have—my bachelor quarters, but I have always spent most of my time at Collinswood, managing the estate for my father and then for Roger. I understood Blanche’s shock, for I shared it. I was in no great hurry to step into my brother’s shoes and assume duties that I had never expected to be mine. I was happy with the way things were before… But we have wandered from the point.” He rubbed his cheek against her hair.
“The point being that even if Roger didn’t tell your mother about his trollop in York,” she said crisply, “you wanted to make sure she knew about me.” So much for that grandiose offer to marry her. Whatever Richard thought, Lady Alice would have a few things to say about that.
He drew back a little and looked down at her, his gaze level and almost stern. “I merely asked her if Roger had ever contemplated marrying anyone other than Blanche, and she said he had never discussed any other match—or any other young woman at all—with her.”
She felt the truth sink into her bones. Roger had lied when he told her how furious his mother had been and how she had forbidden him to marry Felicity. She felt sad—but not surprised. In truth, it seemed, Roger was the toad that Anne had once accused him of being.
“So I’ve been a plaything for both of you,” she said finally. She stepped away from him and felt chilly when he let her go. “How very unoriginal of me. Thank you, my lord, for telling me. I shall pray tonight that I am not carrying your child.”
“And I shall pray that you are.”
The floor seemed to quake under Felicity’s feet, and she had to reach out to the nearest chair, bracing her hand on the back to hold herself upright. “Let us have the truth between us at least, my lord. You don’t wish to marry me.”
“The truth?” His mouth twisted a bit. “Very well, then. Why do you think I agreed to your ridiculous bargain, Felicity?”
“Because…” She stumbled to a halt, suddenly confused. Because I threatened you, she had started to say—but Richard was not the sort of man who could be threatened. She hadn’t realized that at the start, but she knew now that threats—even blackmail—would never have moved him. So why had he agreed?
“Because you desired me,” she said finally.
“Yes. I desired you.” He came up behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders and bending his head to kiss the nape of her neck. “You are very desirable. I was captivated. I wanted to make love to you, yet I knew that you didn’t see me in your bed—you saw Roger.”
Not for long, she thought.
“At first it was only desire,” he admitted. “And then pride. But soon… I found myself caught, wanting—needing—you. I believed that if I attempted to destroy your feelings for Roger, you would hate me, but I feared if I let you continue to idolize him, you would never move beyond loving him to consider whether another man might fill the empty spot in your heart.”
Her throat was tight.
“I didn’t wish to hurt you by taking away the image you had of him—yet every time you said his name, I wanted to tear him down, to make you realize that he hadn’t been all the wonderful things you thought he was. The fact was, even before I realized what was happening to me, I desperately wanted you for myself. That was why I selfishly tried my utmost to give you the child you said you wanted. Because then you would have to marry me to assure that our child would have a name.”
She wanted to be convinced, but she could not. “It’s a very pretty story. One would almost think you mean every word of it… But you let me believe you were married already.”
“My family situation is hardly a secret. It never occurred to me that Lady Hawthorne hadn’t told you… or Lady Stone. She’s the most notorious gossip in London. Until you let slip that Roger had lied to you, I thought you must know he’d married Blanche.”
He had a point, Felicity admitted. How could she hold Richard responsible for keeping secrets when everyone in London—save her—had known the truth?
“Felicity,” he said quietly, and her name was like music on his lips. “If your desires truly have changed, and you do not wish to have my child, then I am sorry for what I have done. But if you are already carrying a child, then I must insist that you marry me.”
Her heart was skittering madly. “But only if I’m carrying your child,” she said quietly. “And if I’m not? Will you consider it a fortunate escape?”
“No,” he said. “Not fortunate at all, for I do not wish to escape. I fell in love with you, and I intend to…” He paused. “I want to marry you, Felicity. I know you told me once that you have no desire to marry at all—that you had learned the hard way what to expect from gentlemen. I should not call those men gentlemen myself—my brother among them. And I am not like them. Is it wrong of me to hope that you will reconsider and marry me?”
He seemed to mean it—and perhaps he did, right at this moment. But he could not have thought of the consequences… of what society would say. “The grandson of a duke,” she said flatly, “marrying the daughter of a mill owner?”
Richard smiled. “I believe you must be speaking of a man who was never supposed to be anything more than the manager of the family estate marrying the woman he loves. There’s not as much contrast between us as you think, my dear. I’ve
been in trade my whole life, too—it’s just a slightly different product.”
Nothing he could have said would have touched her more. Felicity could barely speak for the tears of joy that threatened to choke her. “It would be the greatest wish of my heart to have your child. But more than that, I want you, Richard.”
He drew her close, and his mouth claimed hers gently, almost reverently—as if they were standing at the altar before a crowd of witnesses. But very quickly, restraint gave way to passion, which burned straight through self-control until Felicity was only marginally aware that they were still in her drawing room.
“Would you like…” She gestured toward the stairs and felt herself coloring at her own forwardness.
Richard laughed. “I thought you said you didn’t enjoy our lovemaking.” Before she could add a word, he had stopped teasing to pick her up and carry her up to the sitting room and on to the velvet-draped bedroom beyond.
“Are you certain you won’t have second thoughts?” she asked, as he began to undress her. “My father often said he regretted sending me to that boarding school for girls because he thought it had ruined me. He said it left me feeling I was too good for the men of my own class, while in fact I wasn’t nearly good enough for any others.”
“You’re perfectly fine just as you are,” he said, and kissed her hair. “When will you like to pay a formal visit to my mother?”
“A formal call?” Felicity was aghast. “I barely survived the informal one this afternoon.”
“I doubt it was really such a trial as you thought it. I told my mother that you have chosen not to go into society. So she invited the very unconventional Lady Stone and your good friend, Lady Hawthorne, in the hope that she could manage to arrange a meeting with you sooner rather than later.”
“She did know my name, then?”
“Indeed she did. She knew, in fact, that you were the woman I intended to marry… I admit I’d like to have seen her face, however, when the two ladies she was planning to manipulate innocently delivered you straight into her hands without her making any effort at all.” He was unwinding Felicity’s hair as he spoke, and he stopped long enough to bury his lips in the golden mass. “I would never have let you marry Rivers, you know. Not only isn’t he nearly good enough for you, but he’s stealing from you. Skimming profits, diverting goods…”
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