by Shayla Black
“James departed yesterday after we learned that my brother left to seek Lord Vance and avenge me,” she said quietly.
Yes, Lord Vance. Gavin realized the nobleman had lied in every way conceivable when he’d described his rendezvous with Kira a few weeks earlier. Why? He hardly cared now. Still, Vance deserved to have his face beaten for such behavior.
But it begged the question: how had Vance learned of Kira’s birthmark?
“Is James supposed to stop your brother?” he asked.
“If necessary.”
“What?” Gavin rubbed his suddenly aching forehead. “James cannot fight. I know Lord Vance’s reputation with dueling pistols. If my cousin tries to stop your brother and finds himself in the middle of their fight, he will be in grave—”
“I hope it will not come to that.” Kira rose and slowly approached. “James must find Darius first. We only have the vague notion that he might have headed toward Cornwall based on a letter from someone named Mrs. Linde.”
“The brothel owner?”
“You know her?” Kira arched a questioning brow.
Gavin refused to look or feel guilty for passing an evening or two at her establishment. “I know of her. What else does the letter say?”
Kira shrugged. “We don’t have the letter. But do not fret. James has promised to send a note home every day. We received one only this morning indicating he was quite well and already had some news of my brother. It’s possible they may be on their way home even now.”
Gavin noticed her biting her lip. Kira did not really believe that, but she wanted to.
He sighed. “This is a bloody mess.”
“I’m sorry.” She laid a tentative hand on his shoulder. “I truly tried—”
At her touch, he jumped. His body leapt with excitement; his mind rebelled.
“I know.” I wish to God I’d listened.
Kira bit her lip again. “Gavin, what shall we tell James about…us?”
Tell James? Unthinkable. Why would she assume…because she’d been a virgin, with an innocent’s sensibilities. Was she thinking marriage? He couldn’t do his utmost to dissuade his cousin from wedding her only to do the thing himself!
Yet she was unwed, and he’d ruined her. Didn’t he owe her?
“I—I don’t…” Gavin had no idea how to answer Kira.
What a bloody mess! Why hadn’t he believed the signs of her naïveté, rather than assuming she played some coy game? He’d spent too much time among the women of the ton, he supposed. But such an excuse would not save the situation now.
If only he knew how Lord Vance had seen Kira’s birthmark… Perhaps Vance really had paid a servant for the knowledge, rather than acquiring it himself. What a mess!
Time alone, time to think. That was what he needed. “Let us discuss this later. I should go now. If anyone else discovers us alone like this, tongues will wag.”
With that, he turned and all but ran for his chamber. He needed to find a quiet place absent of Kira, her sultry eyes, and her vanilla scent that drove him wild; anywhere away from the very room in which he’d just experienced amazing pleasure with her. Perhaps then he could think of something other than his cousin’s fiancée and consider some way out of this disaster.
* * * *
Gavin wasn’t coming to breakfast, so Kira sat alone to an early meal two days later with a sigh.
He was distraught; that much was obvious. And she understood. He must be worried for sweet, unworldly James, up against a man of Lord Vance’s lethal abilities. Lord knew she worried about him and Darius for the same reasons.
After she’d learned the true reason for Darius’s departure, it had taken Kira nearly two days to draw a single calm breath. James’s first note home had eased her mind a bit, however. And the two notes he’d sent subsequently had proven all was well, at least thus far. She refused to be less than optimistic that all would end well.
Still, Kira missed Gavin and hoped his mood would turn around soon. He’d been so distant after his valet’s interruption the other night, and she had not seen him since. Railroad business occupied him, according to Hanson. Kira knew the railroad had encountered difficulty lately and that an investment of that size certainly required his attention, but she hoped to see Gavin today. They must talk of their future together, plan their wedding. In light of her engagement to James, they would have to marry quietly by special license. But she didn’t mind. Eventually she would be able to shout her love for him for the world to hear.
In a haze of happiness, Kira smiled. Before they had made love, she had hoped for a sign of Gavin’s feelings, yes, but never expected anything so ardent or substantial. He’d possessed her completely.
I’ve never been more certain in my life, Gavin had said. The fact he felt so strongly about her made her giddy.
They would have a wonderful life together. She appreciated everything about him. He had a strong mind. While he occasionally teased his loved ones, he was kind. And he accepted her heritage. Oh, and the way he made love! She had never imagined her marriage bed would be so passionate, so rich with pleasure that she screamed.
But while Gavin had every right to be distraught about James’s fate, Kira was forced to admit an impatience to cement their engagement. She frowned. They would have to break the news to James first. She didn’t believe he would suffer any real heartache, for he had never given any indication that his proposal had been extended in anything more than kindness and charity. Mrs. Howland would put up a great fuss, but perhaps less than she would if Kira married her only son. The thought made her giggle. And as for Lady Litchfield, she could not be quite as polite. She very much hoped the icy young dowager rotted in her jealousy.
When Gavin returned to the town house, they would settle the details of their marriage. Kira knew she’d been most improper to allow Gavin to bed her. Thank goodness he knew her well enough to realize she was not a woman of loose morals as he’d originally believed her to be. Still, the pleasure he’d given her had overwhelmed her. Only that and her love for him could explain why she’d allowed such a thing to happen. Not that she regretted it. Gavin loved her. Well, he hadn’t said those words exactly, but certainly his lovemaking had been a clear indication of his feelings. Of course, she could not allow him to express his sentiments again in that way until after their vows had been spoken—no matter how much she wished he could.
* * * *
Five miserable days had passed since Gavin made his big, irreversible mistake on the library floor with Kira Melbourne. Five long days since he’d known a moment’s peace, had any sleep of merit… had stopped thinking about the woman he’d ruined.
For the fifth day in a row, Gavin left his town house early in the morning, desperate for a distraction, for a reason to think of anything but Kira. He paused to consider that James had not sent a note home in two days, then shook the thought away. His cousin would be—must be—safe. Perhaps he’d had no time to write, or the post was slow. Gavin refused to consider any other alternatives.
Which left him with nothing to ponder but Kira and his grievous error.
Groaning, he entered Brock’s distinguished suite of offices in The City, directly across from the Bank of England. He nodded to his friend’s secretary, surrounded by a mountain of papers. Gavin entered Brock’s personal office without a knock.
“So you’re back again. What a surprise.” Brock grinned.
“Bugger off.”
His railroad partner laughed. “And as cheerful as yesterday. What a treat.”
Gavin scowled, aware he was being less than friendly and not caring a bloody whit.
“Talk to me about the railroad,” he demanded.
Brock’s smile widened. “It’s about to happen—finally. The track has been repaired since the accident. Lady Litchfield has looked over a few of the hotels and given her approval. Maddie and I have looked at the rest and are satisfied they’ll meet ton standards. We should open on June seventh.”
“Excellent.
What can I do?”
“Nothing.” Brock grinned. “Except wait for all the money to come rolling in. We’re going to make a fortune, you know.”
“Yes.” He pushed the syllable out in misery.
“You sound utterly thrilled by the prospect.”
He was, at least mostly. But this Kira situation had him between sixes and sevens.
Brock stood and rounded the corner of his desk to sit on the edge near him. “You’ve come here every day for five days and you have yet to tell me why. Since I recently looked at your investments, I know you’re not in need of any new ones. I’ve assured you repeatedly that the railroad is on schedule, on budget, and poised to make us wealthy beyond our dreams. You should know beyond a doubt that your cousin Maddie is being well cared for.”
“Yes, I know.” And he did. But he had no way to explain to his friend that he came here to escape Kira and the decision that he knew he must yet make about her.
“Good. Is there some other reason you’ve come to interrupt my work so frequently of late?”
Gavin paused. He didn’t know what to say or do. “I need a drink.”
Brock fished out his pocket watch. “At nine-twenty in the morning?”
Shrugging, Gavin rose. “The time hardly signifies.”
As he turned for the door, Brock fell into step beside him. “All right. Let’s make haste to my house. I’ll ply you with drink and then you tell me why you keep disrupting me at the office.”
While he wasn’t sure he wanted to tell anyone about his dreadful mistake, he had nothing else to do but follow Brock. Perhaps a drink would clear his mind, or help him forget about his stupid blunder. He didn’t care which at the moment.
They shared a quiet ride back to Brock’s St. James address, then stepped inside, handing their coats, hats, and gloves to Brock’s bushy-browed butler.
Gavin turned to follow Brock into his library, but the sound of Maddie’s voice at the top of the stairs stopped him. If he didn’t greet her, she would only chastise him later. Besides, he was genuinely fond of the minx.
She made her way down the steps. Maddie laughed and turned to someone behind her. Gavin leaned a bit and looked around his cousin.
Only to find Kira Melbourne descending the steps in a graceful stride. Her simple gray day dress billowed about her willowy frame, reminding him instantly how she’d felt in his arms, naked. And as usual in Kira’s presence, he felt himself stir.
Gavin swallowed, trying to moisten his dry mouth. What the hell should he say? He hadn’t seen her since…that night.
The instant Kira saw him was obvious. Near the bottom of the stairs, she stilled, flashed him a tentative smile, and hurried toward him in the dark wood and crystal foyer.
She wanted marriage, expected it. What was he to do?
“Miss Melbourne,” he greeted her with a formal bow.
A moment of confusion washed across her exotic features, before she dipped into a small curtsey. “Your grace.”
For a long moment, she watched him, clearly wanting something more. And he could not take his eyes off her. His body responded as if he’d never touched her, again demanding her full surrender. He felt surrounded by the curious vanilla scent that would always define Kira—exotic, mysterious, elusive. Lust roared, hot and hungry and nearly overwhelming.
Gavin forced his gaze away to find Maddie watching him with a questioning glance. “Hello to you, cousin.”
“And to you. How are you?”
He looked at Kira again, torn between his want for her and his conscience. How could he want James’s fiancée with such unrelenting need? The Daggett lust must be to blame. Now that it had seized him, would he soon find himself engaging in all manner of despicable behavior, as his father had, in order to satisfy it?
No. He refused to become a slave to anything so perfidious. He had made a mistake—a huge one, yes. But from now on, no matter how much he wanted Kira, he would keep his bloody distance, at least until he decided what the hell to do.
“Gavin?” Maddie prompted.
“What?” He turned back to his cousin, pasting on a pleasant smile. “Oh, I’ve been very busy. And you?”
“Always on my toes.”
“Not always,” Brock murmured in her ear with a glance at her abdomen, barely swelling with their coming child.
His friend had not intended anyone to overhear the remark, but Gavin had been standing too close to miss it. And it scared the hell out of him. Against his will, he cast a rattled gaze to Kira.
What if she had conceived?
Brock greeted Kira, thankfully diverting her doe-eyed stare elsewhere.
He closed his eyes as a wave of dread slid through him. How could he have been so stupid, made such an incredible mistake, legacy of lust or no? James would be hurt, Aunt Caroline both mortified and livid—
“Brock, I think you offered me a drink,” Gavin reminded.
“Indeed.”
The high-pitched squeal of children came screeching down the stairs. Gavin glanced up to find Maddie’s daughter, Aimee, and her playmate Molly chasing one another. Molly’s plump little cheeks were flushed with good health and laughter, a far cry from the street urchin Brock had “employed” to be a companion to his daughter two years ago. And Aimee grew more each day, her blond braids swinging about her waist as she tried to elude Molly with a giggle.
Their son Michael, not yet a year and a half, scooted down the stairs, his baby-thin dark hair nearly standing up straight.
“You’re it,” cried Molly.
Aimee lunged forward and swiped the other girl’s arm with her little fingers. “You’re it.”
“Ladies, we have company,” said Maddie as she scooped up the toddler and perched him on her hip.
Both girls looked up, their faces instantly contrite.
“Sorry,” they mumbled in unison.
“Mama,” the toddler babbled, his gray eyes fixed on Maddie.
“Mama loves Michael.” She kissed his nose.
“Shouldn’t you be in the schoolroom?” Brock asked the girls, voice stern.
“Yes,” they murmured.
Maddie tried not to smile. “Then go.”
The girls turned back toward the stairs and after two steps, resumed their game.
“They’re beautiful girls,” Kira told Maddie. “I thank you for introducing them to me earlier. In fact, I thank you for the invitation to visit here this morning.”
Maddie smiled and took one of Kira’s gloved hands in her own. “It was my delight to have you here. I only hope you didn’t mind the early hour. I wanted to see you again and had no time this afternoon.”
“Not at all.”
The ladies drifted toward the door. Kira paused to look back at Gavin. Her eyes told him she wanted a gesture, something in the way of reassurance. He simply did not have it to give.
He looked away.
“Let’s have that drink,” Brock suggested.
“Amen.”
Once inside the library, Brock eased the door closed and poured them each a brandy. Gavin swallowed his in one large gulp.
“How good of you to take the time to savor my fine stock,” Brock drawled.
Gavin shrugged in apology and seated himself on the large green sofa dominating the room.
Brock paced to the window, which overlooked the sun-drenched garden on this fine spring day.
“That was an interesting exchange between you and Miss Melbourne.”
Gavin tensed. How much had his friend guessed?
“Tell me you didn’t bed her.”
Exhaling, Gavin thought wryly that his friend had never been slow or subtle. Damnation, he couldn’t lie. So he said nothing.
Brock turned to him, groaning. “Gavin, Gavin. What will you do now?”
“I—I… don’t know.”
“To marry her would be the obvious answer.”
“Yes.” Gavin swallowed.
“But you’re not entertaining that notion, are you?”
> Too restless to sit, Gavin rose, began to pace. “How can I? James would be crushed if he learned of my behavior. I can only imagine Aunt Caroline’s reaction.” He sighed, rubbing at the tension centered at the back of his neck. “With such a scandal hanging over her head, Kira is not fit to be a clergyman’s wife. But a duchess? I’d be a laughingstock. And that’s before the gossip ensued that I’d filched my own cousin’s fiancée away from him.”
“Tongues would wag,” Brock conceded.
“And—and she’s half Persian. While I hold her in no blame for that fact, I… I can trace my lineage nearly back to the last Saxon king. We are of English stock through and through. What would I do with part Persian children? What if they were ridiculed their whole lives, just as Kira herself has been?”
Brock sat in the massive mahogany chair behind his desk. “You pose some difficult questions. But marrying her could end her scandal with Lord Vance and right your wrong at once.”
“The scandal is a sham,” Gavin muttered. He wished like hell he’d never believed it. How much simpler his life would be if he’d known Kira’s façade of innocence had been real.
“She didn’t run away with Lord Vance?” Brock asked.
“No, she did. But the rest of Vance’s vile story is a lie.”
“Are you certain?”
Gavin lowered his head to his hands. “She was a—a…”
He couldn’t bring himself to say the word, to recount just how badly he’d misjudged her.
Understanding lit Brock’s eyes. “Oh, I see. Well, it should be of some comfort that she isn’t a loose woman after all.”
Gavin grunted. “More like a shock.”
“Hmmm. Why do you suppose Miss Melbourne allowed you such an intimacy? Lord Vance obviously wasn’t granted the same privilege, despite two days alone with her.”
Good question. “I don’t know. I’ve asked myself that question a hundred times.” He stared at the ceiling, wishing someone up there would give him answers. “Did she hope I would wed her out of guilt? Did she hope that we would be caught so we would be forced to marry? Is she unable to control her lust?” Like me, he thought with disgust.
