by Heather Boyd
Mr. Wheaton looked on him with pity. “My wife spoiled my daughter to an alarming degree. Despite my attempts to nurture more serious interests, she has the attention span of a flea. She will bore you to tears within a week.”
Justin glanced at his father to find him wide eyed. What the hell kind of interview was this? He had expected Mr. Wheaton to rail at him for ruining his daughter, not to be the object of pity. He found Mr. Wheaton’s lack of concern astonishing. “Nevertheless, I wish to marry her as soon as possible. We’d also like to marry by special license rather than waiting for the banns to be called.”
While his father raised an eyebrow at Justin’s obvious haste, Mr. Wheaton nodded in agreement. “Probably a good idea. The flighty chit may very well try to abscond during the night as it is. I’d make a point to lock the doors at night. However, if she does make a run for it, I’m not chasing after her. I’ve had enough of her antics to last me a life time.” Mr. Wheaton pointed a finger at him. “She’s your problem now.”
Good God. This was a side of Clarry’s father that he’d never imagined existed. Oh, he knew Mr. Wheaton was a gruff man like his father, but at least the duke proved he had a heart now and again. Mr. Wheaton’s callous disregard for his daughter’s battered reputation angered him. “Well, if that is the case then perhaps you would allow her to stay at Staplehurst Hall until the wedding. I’m sure my mother would be glad for the company.”
Justin glanced at his father and prayed he wouldn’t contradict his invitation. His father nodded sagely. “Yes. Yes. My duchess enjoys the company of the younger set. Claribel will have ample chaperonage, too, since Lady Armitage is still in residence.”
Mr. Wheaton snorted loudly then glanced in Justin’s direction. “Hardly matters now, does it? Do whatever the hell you wish with her. I’ll return to sign the contract and for the wedding.”
The duke held up his hands. “I assure you, your daughter will be sleeping on the other side of the house, far from my son until the wedding.”
Mr. Wheaton shook his head in disgust and speared Justin with a harsh glance. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you if she makes you miserable.”
With that, Mr. Wheaton stalked out, shutting the door loudly behind him.
Justin stared after him in shock. Damnation! He turned to his father.
The duke had sunk into his chair and was studying him intently. “Explain.”
Justin hated lying to his father. He’d never been very good at it in the past but he had to make the attempt. “Miss Wheaton and I have discovered that we suit quite well. Be happy for me.”
His father shook his finger as he sat forward. “Yesterday you almost bolted from my presence when we discussed finding you a wife. I highly doubt that a few short hours have changed your opinion of the wedded state.”
Oh, if only his father knew how those hours had changed him. “Sometimes a moment of clarity is all it takes.”
His father pursed his lips. “We should discuss living arrangements before your mother sets her heart on what you don’t want.” He twisted to pull a ledger from a shelf nearby and flipped the pages open. “The house in Sussex is presently vacant and in good repair, or the property in Cheshire could do very well for you, too.”
Justin’s heart sank. “You’re banishing me for marrying Miss Wheaton?”
His father closed the ledger. “No. No, of course not. I simply expected you to want the same privacy as your brother. As you know, your mother is prone to meddling. If I didn’t need Tristan close by, and he could convince Winifred to leave her father behind, he’d have taken the Cheshire property.”
“Father, I have no desire at all to move away from Staplehurst Hall. All of Clarry’s friends are here. I would not like to deprive her of place in society. She will come to hate me more if I take her away.”
His father stood and circled the desk. When he placed a hand over Justin’s shoulder and squeezed, Justin almost jumped away. “And why would Miss Wheaton—a woman who you claim has happily accepted your proposal of marriage—hate you more, Justin. Exactly what happened last night?”
Justin looked down. Of all the times for his father to show his concern, this was the worst possible moment. He didn’t want to think about why Clarry had to marry him. For the moment, he wanted to live in the dream. But his father appeared determined to get an answer if his expression was any indication. Justin had never managed to hold out for long. He squared his shoulders. “Neither of us got what we expected. But it’s done and I know my duty.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Clarry’s hand shook as she raised the gold rimmed teacup to her lips and took a hesitant sip. Quite frankly, if not for the duchess’s stern gaze commanding her to drink, Clarry didn’t think she could. Her belly rebelled over the intake of nourishment. She was so humiliated that she had to marry Lord Justin.
She was to marry a rake for heaven’s sake.
A man who cared for nothing but his own pleasure. She would become a laughing stock.
Clarry carefully lowered her teacup, pleased that her hand didn’t shake too badly. With the duchess watching her every move—and making no attempt at polite conversation— she had never been more uncomfortable. Not even finding that she’d shared a bed with Lord Justin compared to the duchess’s hostile scrutiny.
The door behind her opened. “I say, Dezzie, are you out of your mind?”
Clarry knew that voice, and her heart sank. Lady Armitage, the duchess’s elder sister, didn’t care for her either. This would be more than a little awkward.
The duchess waved her hand in Clarry’s direction. “I wish I were. This is a tragedy.”
Clarry turned to acknowledge Lady Armitage and wanted to sink through the floor. It was well known that Lady Armitage was inordinately fond of her nephews, and she appeared outraged. “What can be done?”
“Nothing. He has thrown his heart on the altar of shattered dreams and even now faces the overwhelming consequences.”
Lady Armitage sank into a chair close to her sister and took hold of her hand. “Moving. Very moving, Dezzie dear. How long did it take you to compose?”
The duchess squinted at the clock on the mantle. “Ooh, twenty minutes or so. A good lament needs only the right motivation. Justin should like it very much.”
Lady Armitage patted her sister’s hand again. “Justin has a fine mind and romantic soul. I cannot wait to see how this drama influences his future work.”
The duchess sighed. “Let us hope this disturbance will not affect his art too greatly. His latest project is at a critical stage.”
When both ladies focused their attention on Clarry, she squirmed. “Does Lord Justin dabble in poetry and writing?”
Both Lady Armitage and the duchess shook their heads at her. When they didn’t comment, she flushed in embarrassment. She should not have admitted her ignorance of something so obviously important to Lord Justin. If they were to marry under normal circumstances, she might have been aware of his penchant for the written word.
Yet she’d never spared him a second glance. The first had always been to check if his brother joined him in town.
When the two sisters spoke of yesterday’s wedding without including her, Clarry didn’t mind. She glanced down at her hands and let their words lull her. But the torture of waiting for Justin’s return would drive her mad. She raised her head and cast a surreptitious glance at the mantle clock. She’d been with the duchess an hour. What could possibly be keeping him so long?
As if summoned by her thoughts, the door handle turned and Justin strode in. His gaze traveled the room and settled, not on Clarry, but on his aunt. “There you are, Auntie dearest. Have you heard my good news?”
Lady Armitage stood and framed his face with her wrinkled and bejeweled hands. “I have.”
He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead in return, and whispered something Clarry couldn’t catch. The countess’s fingers slid from his face and she shrugged. “If you wish it.”
“Of course I
do.” His gaze finally landed on Clarry and her skin flamed. “Clarry, your father wants to see you. Come along.”
She scrambled to her feet, dropped curtseys to the duchess and Lady Armitage then rushed to join Lord Justin. Despite the horror of the morning, she breathed easier being nearer to him. Once within reach, Lord Justin captured her fingers and led her outside. They walked for what seemed an eternity then he led her into another chamber. But the elegant chamber appeared empty of her father. They were all alone.
When Clarry turned to face him, she was startled to find him standing so close. She looked up and up, but Lord Justin lowered his head and captured her lips. Shock held her immobile at first. Lord Justin appeared to be well versed in the art of kissing and her legs trembled as he persisted. His hand stole around her back, burning her skin through the gown as he pulled her closer against his chest.
Clarry raised her hands to hold him at bay, but the delicious assault of his mouth curled her fingertips into his clothing. His tongue licked along the seam of her mouth and she opened her lips with a sigh.
Lord Justin kissed with considerable talent. No wonder she’d succumbed so easily last night. He invaded the recesses of her mouth, tasting and sharing more of himself than she thought possible. His hands stole lower, curling around her bottom and forcing a squeak from her lips. Lord Justin released her, his expression one she couldn’t fathom.
When he sighed and scrubbed his hand over his mouth, Clarry quickly lowered her eyes. That he regretted kissing her was clear. That she’d enjoyed the experience and wanted more kisses didn’t bode well for her peace of mind. She loved Lord Ramsbury. How could she want Lord Justin’s kisses?
Confused Clarry took two paces back. “I thought you were taking me to see my father.”
Lord Justin scrubbed his hand through his hair, a gesture she’d rarely seen him do. “He’s left the Hall already.”
Clarry dropped her gaze to the floor. She’d thought it surprising that her father would wait for her after the events of last night. She’d hoped he wouldn’t be too angry. According to him, she’d grown too much like her mother for his comfort. He’d expect her to make her own way home or not to bother at all. Just like her mother hadn’t all those years ago. It no longer surprised her that Mother had chosen to find sanctuary outside her marriage. Her father was a difficult man to please and unforgiving of failure.
Her lover of last night moved closer. “Clarry, your father has agreed to you moving into the Hall prior to our wedding as my mother’s guest. From today, you live here.”
She shook her head. “What about Miss Gainsford?”
Lord Justin settled onto the edge of the table and folded his arms across his chest. He looked so much bigger than a moment ago. “Who is Miss Gainsford?”
Clarry did her best not to be intimidated. “Bethany Gainsford is my companion. Father will surely end her employment as he has no need of her services now.”
Lord Justin cocked his head to the side and studied her without speaking, exactly as the duchess had done earlier. Honestly, could these people not say exactly what was on their minds? Must they intimidate with every gesture and look. But she was concerned about what would become of Bethany. The woman had no one else, no family or friends, that Clarry could determine. And she had an unhealthy attitude to her freedom. It had taken all of Clarry’s persistence to keep her as her companion. The woman had no one else.
As Lord Justin studied her, she took a risk and stepped toward him. “Bethany has very little in funds. I’d hate to see her cast out the way I fear my father will. I’d like to help her.”
Lord Justin’s weary sigh made her heart flutter.
He nodded slowly. “Very well. I’ll go see your father directly and make the necessary arrangements for Miss Gainsford to enter employment here. Is there anything else you must have?”
The tone of his words hinted he thought her too demanding already. Pain tightened her chest. “No. No, there is nothing else. I’m concerned only for Bethany.”
“Of course.” Lord Justin stood, towering above her without a word.
Clarry hastily looked down, but was confronted by the broad expanse of his chest and the fine silk waistcoat that she’d clung to just moments before. Given the way he’d kissed her, she wondered whether she’d be spending her nights alone prior to the wedding. What surprised her more was wondering whether she wanted to. He did kiss rather well, and now that her head no longer pained her, she could remember parts of last night. It hadn’t been all bad, or even mostly bad.
She glanced up as Lord Justin lowered his head and kissed her again. This time she was a little more prepared for his kisses. They left her gasping, writhing almost. His large hands curled around her waist and hoisted her up into his arms. With her feet dangling inches from the floor she had to hold onto him.
Clarry wrapped her fingers around his shoulders as he deepened the kiss, threatening to consume her with his desire. She did her best to keep her head, but her body thrummed with sensations she couldn’t name. Suddenly, Clarry found herself sitting atop Lord Justin on the pale pink lounge. She gazed at him in surprise as he fumbled with her skirts until he touched her bare skin.
She remembered his hands from last night. The warm swipe of his fingers over her leg reminded her that his touch had been delicious, too, so she settled more comfortably astride him.
Lord Justin cradled her skull one-handed as he fumbled beneath her gown. After a moment, he grasped her hips and shifted her position. It took a moment to realize that Lord Justin intended to make love to her. Now. His slow slide into her body took her breath away and she gazed at him in wonder. How heavenly he felt. His hand curled over her shoulder and pushed down until she felt sure he couldn’t fill her any further.
She blinked and glanced down, but with her skirts in the way she really couldn’t see a thing. Their eyes met as he lifted her, and then lowered her down his length. Clarry clutched at his shoulders as the strangest sensations rippled through her. She’d never imagined making love would feel like this. She ached between her legs to be sure. But it wasn’t a pain she wanted to make go away. She wanted more. But had no idea how to get it.
Lord Justin had closed his eyes as he loved her and she watched his face, noticing tension holding his mouth immobile. Clarry leaned forward to kiss that tense mouth and his eyes flew wide open. Instead of kissing her back, he flipped them so she landed on her back with him hovering over. With the change of position, Clarry was assaulted with a hundred other compelling sensations. His heat, his scent—the pressure of him against her hips. She widened her legs and clung to the man who intended to marry her.
That seemed to be agreeable because he sped up his thrusts, increasing her pleasure tenfold. As his body pressed hard against her, Clarry tensed, and then her world stopped. She burned, she writhed, she whimpered as the most incredible sensations swamped her.
When she opened her eyes, Lord Justin was watching her, a satisfied grin on his face.
His length was still buried within her, and he thrust hard into her again and again then buried his face in her neck and moaned. Clarry settled her hands on Justin’s back and held him close. Perhaps marriage to a rake wouldn’t be all that bad if he could make love to her like that every now and then. No, marriage to him could be nice so long as she remembered him incapable of tender emotions.
Justin levered up on one arm and stared at her. But this time his stare was more comfortable. They had shared something special and she felt her lips lifting into a smile at his appearance. He was deliciously rumpled. She moved her hand to touch the back of his head. But he pulled away and climbed off her. He did up his trousers and put himself in order.
In the blink of an eye, something had changed between them and Clarry wasn’t certain what it was. She sat up and hurried to cover up her legs.
Above her head, Lord Justin snorted. “There. Now you cannot claim I didn’t make love to you.”
CHAPTER FIVE
That might
not have been the right thing to say immediately after the best sex of his life. But Justin felt so damn good about claiming Clarry in broad daylight that he hadn’t thought to moderate his words. He still fumed over coming second to his brother. But at least his brother had never laid a finger, or anything else, on his future wife.
Clarry ignored him and stared at her clasped fingers.
After a long painful moment, Justin cleared his throat. “I should show you to your chamber and then fetch Miss Gainsford. My aunt will likely see to your needs. Be sure to consult her before approaching the duchess.”
As Clarry nodded without looking up, Justin cursed himself for a fool. How could he expect that one moment of bliss could make any difference to his future?
He held out his hand to pull Clarry up, and eventually she placed her hand in his. Justin tugged her to her feet, cast a critical eye over her attire and deemed her ruined beyond all hope of repair. Well, there was no chance of correcting matters until they reached her new bedchamber. So, he tugged her against his side and led her out into the hallway.
Although the sensation of holding Clarry in his arms was pleasant, she sagged against him. He was literally carrying her by the time they reached her door. It hardly seemed the right time, they were not even married, yet Justin swung her up into his arms and carried her across the threshold.
Clarry was aware enough to gape at her surroundings. “Where are we?”
“Your new lodgings.” Justin set her on the bed. “My bedchamber connects to this one though a sitting room.”
Clarry swallowed, eyes wide in surprise. “I thought I was to be your mother’s guest on the other side of the house. People will talk.”
“They undoubtedly already are.” Justin snatched her foot and removed her shoe. “But you will be at some liberty here in this part of the house. You should be comfortable.”
Justin removed her other shoe and then set his hands to his hips. “It’s been an eventful morning. Why don’t you rest until Miss Gainsford arrives? Pull that bell when you awake and servants will bring you a bath, food and anything else you require.”
