by Shayla Black
“Is it possible she let you bed her because she loves you? That is usually an innocent’s motivation.”
Gavin raised his head and gazed at Brock across the stark, masculine domain. “If she fancies herself in love with me, it’s temporary, I’m sure.”
Surprise floated across Brock’s face. “Why is that?
With an uncomfortable shrug, he said, “At some point, Kira fancied herself enough in love with Lord Vance to run away with him. It’s been just a bit over two months that she did so. For her to allow me to…” And so easily. “Well, she’s likely as fickle as a cat. I have no notion if she would marry me, then cuckold me once she believed herself in love with someone else.”
“Lord Vance might have been a mistake on her part. But if she did not lay with him, then perhaps she realized early on that he wasn’t the right sort of chap.”
“He saw her naked,” Gavin broke in, then sighed. “I know that much at least. She has a birthmark on her hip… and Vance knew all about it.”
Brock said nothing for fully a minute. The air inside the office turned thick and almost too quiet. Gavin rose and poured himself another brandy even though the first one was churning most unpleasantly in his empty stomach.
“Well,” Brock said finally. “I see your points. Miss Melbourne might make the most disastrous kind of wife, indeed. But I doubt very much that James was expecting a pure bride. You could always let your cousin marry her and settle in Tunbridge Wells. After they have a baby or two, no one will—”
“Stop.” The mental image Brock’s words created nearly incited his stomach to revolt. Kira and James married? Having children? And he would have to watch?
“Your only other choice is to marry her yourself.”
Gavin swallowed. Brock’s words were ugly, but they were the truth. He sighed, hoping to fight off some mood, something that felt suspiciously like despair.
“Gavin, why did you bed her?”
The answer to that question was nearly as complex as deciding what to do now that he had. He only knew the answer involved the tainted Daggett legacy of lust—and it scared the hell out of him. Gavin began to pace the length of the book-lined room, the smell of old paper and hot wax permeating the air.
“I—I don’t know. Once I held her, I simply could not bring myself to let her go. The passion roared inside me. It drowned out logic, reason, prudence. And it was strong. I’ve never known a feeling its equal.” He laughed at himself. “God, why am I telling you all this?”
“Because you’re troubled. Besides, you once helped me through something similar.”
“I yelled at you.”
Brock shrugged. “Sometimes that’s the same thing. But I remember that day.” He laughed. “You told me that men of power should possess self-control. I felt certain you’d never had an impulsive moment in your life.”
“Until that night with Kira, I do not believe I did.” Gavin scowled. “That is why I cannot understand what happened. I touched her and… I could no longer think.”
“Do you recall me telling you that love will drive a man to reckless acts in the name of claiming his lady?”
Gavin zinged a mystified gaze at his friend. “Do you believe I love Kira Melbourne?”
“Are you so certain you don’t?”
Chapter Twelve
Three days later, Kira accepted another invitation to the Taylor town house from Lady Madeline. She went more than half hoping she would encounter Gavin there, as she had before. She had not seen him since their last chance meeting in the Taylor’s foyer. They had not had any conversation about their upcoming marriage. Kira began to worry. While she believed Gavin was an honorable man, she would like things settled between them.
But what worried her more was the fact they had not received any sort of correspondence from James in nearly a week.
When Kira reached St. James Square, Lady Madeline received her with grace, as usual. She was one of the most beautiful women Kira had ever met, and the warmth of her smile seemed to light up a room. Lady Madeline seemed not at all affected by Kira’s Persian heritage. Kira wished more women could be like her, the kind to accept people based on their merits, not their blood.
Lady Madeline was truly blessed. She and her husband loved one another completely. That much was obvious. Kira wanted the same for Gavin and herself. Drat, she knew he was busy with the railroad, but they must talk soon.
“Please, sit,” Maddie instructed.
“Thank you.” Kira smiled politely, looking about the lovely room. Bright floral patterns on yellow backgrounds with soft pink and green accents abounded. This was clearly a woman’s domain, for it reflected femininity, elegance, and warmth at once. In fact, the room was very much like her hostess.
“Where are the children today?” Kira inquired politely.
“The girls are likely in the schoolroom, though with the weather as sunny as it is, how long four walls will contain them is anyone’s guess. Aimee and Molly have new kites.”
The brisk breeze lifting the leaves of the trees visible through the window made Kira nod. “Today would be a perfect day to fly them.”
“Indeed.” Maddie smiled. “Michael is taking a nap, thankfully. When he’s awake, he enjoys hiding in peculiar places and seeing how long it takes us to find him.”
Kira laughed. This was what she wanted for herself: a loving husband, charming children, acceptance and happiness and all that life had to offer. If Gavin would just make a few moments for her, they could begin. And she didn’t mean to sound impatient, but why couldn’t he spare her a bit of time? Perhaps she was being overly suspicious, but she wondered if he was avoiding her.
“So tell me, when do you and Mr. Howland plan to marry?”
Tensing, Kira paused, blinked, wondered how to answer. She hadn’t considered what to say to people before she and Gavin could be wed. “Well, Mr. Howland is away at the moment with my brother.” She concealed the fact they’d gone after Lord Vance. “When they return, I suspect we shall decide then.”
“But the banns have already been posted?”
“Indeed, they have. I’m hopeful that we shall come to some… agreement soon.”
“Of course. Well, I wish you all the best.”
“Thank you.”
Wishing to change the subject—Kira could hardly tell Lady Madeline that she now hoped to wed Gavin—she considered ways to shift the conversation.
Before she could, her hostess smiled. “Your fiancé is very fortunate. At Mrs. Howland’s party, I noticed you were quite the prettiest woman in the room. You must turn heads wherever you go.”
The compliment stunned her. “Oh, no. You looked very lovely—”
“Me?” Lady Madeline laughed. “I am an old married woman now. But you are fortunate. I always wanted to have silky black hair like yours. And you have perfect skin. It does not show a single flaw. And you have none of my freckles, lucky girl.”
Kira had never given a great deal of thought to her hair or skin being particularly pretty, just different. More characteristics that marked her Persian. Yet Lady Madeline liked them? The thought made her smile. They weren’t unattractive features, she supposed.
“You’re far too kind,” she murmured.
“No. I daresay, Lady Litchfield, who is quite used to being the most sought woman in any room, noticed that night that she was no longer the only woman to attract attention.”
“I think you misunderstand. Lady Litchfield merely dislikes me.”
“Of course she does. No one woman enjoys being outshined.”
Kira would have liked to believe Lady Madeline, if only to credit something other than contempt for prompting Lady Litchfield’s condescension. But was it possible? Kira liked the idea of the lady’s jealousy far more than her prejudice. In fact, she liked it a great deal.
With a new confidence, Kira inquired about the subject keeping her from her love.
“So I suspect the impending railroad is occupying your husband a great deal.”
“Some, yes. But most of that is behind him now.”
“Oh? Has someone else assumed those duties?” Perhaps that’s where Gavin had been of late.
Maddie shook her head. “No, everything is finished, really. The test runs have been completed with success. The hotels are ready to open. The employees have been hired. The trains themselves are in place. Word is spreading of the coming opening in the next few weeks. We’re simply waiting now.”
Kira frowned. “No one need do anything currently?”
“No.” Maddie smiled. “My husband has proven, once again, to be decidedly well organized and capable of surrounding himself with people as brilliant as he.”
“What of the investors?” Kira swallowed, confused. “Certainly they are busy.”
Her hostess waved her question away. “Even less so. Brock prides himself on doing everything for his investors so they simply have to sit back and await their profits.”
In other words, Brock was not busy with the railroad. Nor, it seemed, was Gavin.
A fist of dismay clamped tight in Kira’s stomach. If Gavin wasn’t busy with the railroad, where was he?
“Have you seen your cousin Cropthorne today?” she asked, hoping her voice didn’t sound as weak as it felt.
“Not today. But Lord, I swear he all but moved into Brock’s office for a week. I’ve no notion why.” Maddie shrugged. “Brock grumbled that Gavin had simply come to waste his time.”
Kira closed her eyes. Gavin hadn’t gone to Mr. Taylor’s office to waste his time. Likely, he had done it to avoid her. Why? Shock and dejection washed over her. She tried to block the wretched feeling. Why would he avoid her so judiciously? He must know she wished to discuss their marriage—
Unless he avoided her because he had no intent to wed her at all.
Oh, dear God!
Suddenly, Kira felt herself tremble. A wave of nausea rolled through her stomach, even as wretched tears stung her eyes. How could Gavin make love to her so passionately, tell her he’d never been more certain about anything in his life as he was about her, then abandon her so cruelly?
It appeared he had done just that.
“His grace had no business with your husband?”
“None whatsoever, except that of friendship, I suppose.” Maddie leaned forward and set her teacup aside. “You’re looking peaked. Are you well?”
No, and Kira wondered if she’d ever be well again.
“I fear not. Perhaps I should go.” Kira rose on unsteady feet.
Maddie followed. “I shall call on you in a day or two to make certain you’re all right.”
With an absent nod and a distant word of thanks, Kira left. The driver helped her into the rented hack. She collapsed into the seat once the door had shut behind her. The musty smells of cigars and unwashed bodies assailed her, churning her stomach. But her mind raced like a runaway stallion.
Gavin had no business with the railroad or Mr. Taylor at the moment. He had been away nearly day and night for no particular reason. Kira could only conclude—indeed, feared—that he was avoiding her to avoid the subject of marriage. The cad truly thought to take her maidenhead and not do the honorable thing? Only contemptible men behaved so awfully… unless they were men of consequence bedding women they found beneath them.
What an ugly, ugly truth.
Kira fought back tears. Gavin had been so attentive, so understanding and caring the past few weeks—unlike the haughty duke she had first met. Lately, he had not seemed at all like the kind of man to ruin a woman and care nothing for the consequence she would face.
But she had been wrong about a man before.
Was the real Gavin a superior swine? Perhaps he’d thought her a woman of loose morals all along and simply wanted the opportunity to bed her, as Darius had hinted.
If so, he didn’t know or understand her at all. And that would make everything she had believed—and loved—about Gavin a lie.
The thought hit Kira like a blow. An encroaching wave of feeling filled her with misery and anger and a thousand sentiments in-between.
She shouted at the driver to hurry, vowing to speak with Gavin as soon as possible.
* * * *
Gavin stumbled into his bedroom at nearly three o’clock in the morning. He reeked of brandy, he knew. And he was so tired that his ability to play cards had deserted him hours ago.
Again, that left him with nothing more to do than brood about Kira. While he hated brooding—it was so idle an occupation—Gavin simply couldn’t stop.
He could not marry her. He simply couldn’t, for all the reasons he’d outlined to Brock. Why, then, did part of him wish he could?
With a sigh, he lit the lamp in his room and wondered what the hell he was going to do. He couldn’t avoid Kira forever.
And he was also distressed to hear from Graves that they’d received no word from his cousin James again today. Damnation, that was beginning to be very troublesome.
“Welcome home,” said a smooth feminine voice.
Gavin whirled. In the overstuffed rosewood chair in the corner sat Kira, fully dressed and wearing an expression of fury so clear, he could not mistake it for anything else.
Even fuming, she looked so sensually elegant with her curls draped across her shoulder and her plump red mouth made for kissing. Even her severe brown dress with buttons nearly up to her neck couldn’t disguise the curves he’d touched and tasted.
Would almost kill to taste again.
His blood pounded thick and hot, urging him to kiss away her anger until they were both aching with need. He wanted to hold her afterward and make her laugh. He ignored his urges.
“What are you doing here?” he asked instead. “Someone will find you.”
She gave him a silent glare. “That is the least of my concerns at this point. I think you owe me some conversation.”
He tensed. Here it was, her demand. Gavin sighed. She had every right to make it. He simply didn’t know what to say.
“Kira, I—I’m sorry.”
She arched a black brow. “For avoiding me?”
Oh, she’d figured that out? No wonder she was furious. “No.” The icy expression in her crystal blue eyes told him that was the wrong answer. “Yes, I’m sorry if you felt I was avoiding you.”
“You were,” she pointed out.
He sidestepped her claim. “What did you come to discuss?”
“You know we must talk about what happened in the library.” She frowned. “It was—”
“A mistake,” he cut in. “I’m entirely at fault. I let myself be carried away by your…charms. It was irresponsible of me, and I regret my actions.”
There, that sounded good. Maybe if he took all the blame… Oh, the round-eyed fury she speared him with told him that his apology had not helped his case.
“What we did was a mistake?” she challenged. “I asked you if you were certain. You said you’d never been more certain of anything in your life. You did not mean that?”
He sighed. “I meant it.” Unfortunately. “I did want you.” He still did, so damned desperately it made little sense.
“Then what has changed? Now suddenly you avoid the very sight of me?”
Gavin saw her tears fighting their way through anger. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep them at bay. His stomach twisted. He could usually end a liaison with more finesse than this. Damn, why hadn’t he thought to give her a gift or something to ease the pain of their parting? That usually worked.
Then again, his partners didn’t fancy the idea of marriage.
And they weren’t virgins.
“Kira, women are ruled by their hearts, while men…men are ruled by lust. When I said I wanted you—”
“You merely wanted to bed me.” She ground her teeth together. “Of course. How stupid of me.”
“I realize now that you were thinking of marriage,” he conceded.
“Indeed. To be thinking otherwise, I would have to be the most—” She gasped, then stared
at him with eyes that flashed blue rage. “That’s what you thought of me, that I was a woman of loose morals.” She shook her head. “God, you must think me a fool as well. All the time you smiled at me, complimented me, attended to me, you merely wanted to seduce me because you believed me to be a fallen woman. My brother was right.” Fists formed at her sides. “You didn’t learn a thing about me in these past weeks. Nor did you care.”
Pain chiseled away at some of her anger, and it hurt Gavin to see her in such anguish. He crossed the room and took her shoulders in his hands.
“I did learn about you.” He couldn’t tell her that he hadn’t intended to seduce her. He couldn’t lie to her about that. “I did not mean to hurt you. Hell, I didn’t mean for…it to happen.”
“But you didn’t stop yourself from seducing your own cousin’s bride, despite having no intent to marry me. What kind of man does that make you?”
“A reprobate, I’m sure.” One very much like my father. Disgust slithered through his stomach. “If it’s any consolation, I’m appalled at my own behavior.”
“But not so appalled that you intend to do the right thing?” she challenged. “It was much easier for you to believe I was a whore, and therefore, a fair target for your seduction. But since I’ve proven you wrong—”
“How was I to know you were an innocent?”
“You believed Lord Vance?”
“I spoke to him personally some weeks ago.”
When Kira’s jaw dropped and she jerked away from him, Gavin realized he’d said the wrong thing again.
“He sounded most convincing,” Gavin said. “And he knew of your birthmark.”
Kira paused and glared at him. “And how did you know of it before that night in the library?”
There were some lies that had to be told, Gavin thought. This was one of them. Certainly, if he told Kira that he’d viewed every swell and hollow of her tea and cream skin weeks ago, oh, would she be enraged—and rightfully so.
“A servant.”
Wrath gathered on her face again. “Let me tell you about my dealings with the nefarious Lord Vance. He only knew of my birthmark because, after he offered me marriage and promised to take me to Gretna, he took me toward London, tied me to a bed, and stripped me naked.”
