How to Marry a Rogue

by Anna Small

  “And if not, will you insist upon a divorce?”

  “I wouldn’t presume to scandalize both our families. An annulment would be…” His face blanched. “She is no longer…” He shook his head. “Of course, she would not be. Not if you had anything to do with it.”

  “Because I must have seduced her, you mean?” Jack’s fists clenched automatically, but he quelled the urge to fight.

  “You must admit your talent for persuasion is legendary, Jack. How often have your conquests been the subject of our conversation?”

  “That was in my shameful past. Besides, if I had seduced her, why would I go through the trouble of marrying her? We had a proper wedding, and I will swear an oath there was no physical intimacy before the vows.”

  “Implying there was intimacy after the ceremony, I’ll wager,” Jonathan sputtered. “Speaking of the wedding, what kind of wedding was it, Jack?” His lips were drawn tight, and Jack watched with half an interest at a vein throbbing in his friend’s right temple. “Did you happen across a vicar wandering the French countryside? Was Aunt Adele present? A lady who, by the by, has much to answer for. Now I know why she stayed on in France.”

  “We did not have a vicar.” He snorted. “It is quite difficult to find the Church of England in France, as you well know. Rest assured, it was a marriage sanctified by God, and that alone matters. We had a civil wedding at the embassy in Calais. Aunt Adele had nothing to do with any of it. Indeed, she was as…” He almost said shocked but didn’t want to use too strong a word. “She was as surprised as you but gave her blessing wholeheartedly.”

  “Because no woman has ever been able to resist doing exactly as you please.”

  “I wish I had these powers you claim for me.” He was tempted to pour another drink, but a cool head was the better option.

  “But…but Jack.” Lockewood paced the room, shaking his head. “Why you? I mean, I know Georgiana is fond of you, but…why did she choose you, of all people?”

  “I will ignore the obvious inference to my bad character. You go too far, my friend. I love her. I did not marry her for her money, so what objection can you possibly have? We have known each other all our lives, and I have cared for her since she was little. I’m the best husband she could have. Better, I dare say, than those fops and fools you’d have had her marry. We saw Herbert Richmond at a fête. If you had seen how he looked at her…” The hot flush spread upward to his temples. “I could not in all good conscience allow a match. You’d have thrashed him on the spot, had you seen him. You’ll thank me one day.”

  “But you are Jack Waverley!” Lockewood thumped his hand on the table so hard the china ornaments on it wobbled. “I know how you treat women. I know of your expensive gambling debts, your nights in the gaming hells and those low boxing establishments.” He sank into a chair, the very image of exhaustion. “Richmond is a fool, but he stays away from scandal.”

  “You should know me better than that, Lockewood,” Jack said quietly. “I have never had any designs on your sister. Do you not remember how angry I was when you did not bring me along to Gretna Green so I could kill that whoreson, Mitford?”

  Lockewood’s face contorted. “Yes, I remember. He was another whom I’d trusted as a brother. Another I’d grown up with—and shared my home and family. Another who professed to love my sister more than the world.”

  “I am not Mitford.” He gritted his teeth and nearly spat as he said the words. “Do not compare me in the same breath as that dog.”

  Lockewood’s shoulders sagged. For a moment, Jack feared he would collapse, but then he raised his anguished face. “I love you as a brother, Jack. I needn’t assure you my intentions for Georgiana have been in the sole realm of providing for her best interests.”

  “You love her so well.” Jack walked to the window and flicked aside the curtain, though he couldn’t focus on the serene view of the park. “You were ready to marry her off to the first ass with more than ten thousand a year, so you wouldn’t risk a worthless lout marrying her for her money. My god, man!” He shook his head. “Is her fortune alone the reason anyone would want her? Have you never looked at her? She is beautiful and kind, talented and amusing. She’s the kind of wife any man would count himself fortunate to have. The kind of wife I do not deserve, nor does any man.”

  He nearly choked on his words. He shook his head again, but this time it was to clear it of confusing thoughts. He almost convinced himself their marriage was based on mutual love and affection and had nothing to do with alternative motives.

  Lockewood’s sigh brought him back to the present. “If you swear you love her and will honor her, then…”

  “You will see for yourself our affection for each other. That should set your mind at ease.”

  “I do hope so.” He rubbed his jaw and stifled a yawn. “Forgive me, Jack. I am not myself of late. My ill temper is a result of being awakened throughout the night since the baby was born.” He rose from his chair and held out his hand. “I have never lost faith in you, Jack. I know there’s a heart beating behind that monstrously thick wall you’ve developed over the years. I’m glad Georgiana was able to knock it down.”

  He didn’t know what to say. They shook hands, and Lockewood clapped him on the shoulder.

  “Have you dined recently? We can find the ladies and order tea.”

  Accepting an uneasy truce, Jack followed Lockewood out of the study and into a sunny room filled with toys no infant could have any interest in whatsoever. Georgiana stood by a table, and he realized she’d been pacing as he had been. As it always happened when coming upon her, his heart skipped and his breeches grew uncomfortably tight.

  “Welcome home, Georgiana. Or should I say, Mrs. Waverley?” Jonathan embraced Georgiana, and Jack noted the relief in her eyes.

  “Will my husband live another day?” she inquired, and they all laughed, though Jack noted a slight hesitation on his friend’s part.

  “I have been vehemently assured of Jack’s love and devotion to you. While I will not hide my disappointment at being left out of the arrangement, I am truly happy for you both. Whereas Jack will have proven us all wrong and show that love truly conquers all, he will also have you to control him, much as you always have done.”

  Georgiana glanced at Jack, a blush staining her cheeks. He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but something in her eyes made him pause. Was it a hopeful glance? A suspicious one? Why could he interpret the expression of every other woman in the world except for hers?

  Sophie tilted her arms to display Lockewood’s son. “Come and meet your nephew, Mr. Waverley,” she said.

  Relieved the baby’s presence eased any remaining tension, he jiggled the baby’s tiny foot. “I don’t see what all the fuss is about, Lockewood. He looks a bit like a tadpole.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  At supper, Jack paid more attention to her than usual, taking a sip from her glass and forcing her to taste a spoonful of his soup. Georgiana poked his thigh and shot him a look, but he ignored it, laughing heartily at a mildly humorous thing she’d said. She glanced quickly at her brother and sister-in-law, but they hadn’t noticed anything amiss.

  “So, Georgiana,” Jonathan said pointedly. “You haven’t said anything about your wedding. Were there any guests?”

  She set down her fork. “A few. Aunt Adele and Lady Priscilla attended, of course. Other than that, it was a very quiet affair.”

  “Hmm. Pity. Did Jack give you a present? I noticed you’re not wearing a ring.”

  She almost gasped aloud. She’d meant to tell Jack about a ring after the sailor on the ship had given her that disgusting look.

  “I have my mother’s ruby I was going to have reset.” Jack spoke so smoothly she almost applauded his quick thinking. “My grandfather has my mother’s jewels. Have no fear,” he added wryly, “Georgiana will be as adorned as your lovely Sophie.” He raised his glass with a friendly nod at Sophie, who smiled in reply.

  “Did you have a hon
eymoon?” Sophie asked. “Paris can be so romantic. I should think you two had a lovely time. Riding through tranquil scenery, picnics on the Left Bank, strolling through the Tuilleries.”

  “We had a fine honeymoon.” Georgiana sipped her wine, trying to forget the image of Jack’s bloody knuckles after a night out, or the mess she’d left in the garden the night she’d followed him to the ball. “We didn’t spend very much time outdoors, however.” She hadn’t meant to make it sound sordid, but Sophie coughed into her napkin and her brother’s face flushed.

  “What she means,” Jack said hastily, “is we were occupied at home. The chateau had a marvelous pianoforte, did it not, Georgiana?” His question was followed by the slightest wink only she detected.

  She ground her heel into his toe as her cheeks burned. “So it did. We spent many long hours playing.” She steadied her nerves and smiled brightly. “Jonathan, did you know Jack is an accomplished violinist?”

  “I am not surprised. I’m discovering something new about Jack every minute.”

  Sophie indicated Jack’s full plate. “Is the food to your liking, Mr. Waverley?”

  He dabbed his lips with his napkin. “It is superb, Mrs. Lockewood. I have lost some of my appetite since our return.” He quirked his eyebrow at Jonathan. “But I am certain it will return to me in time for dessert.” He tapped Georgiana’s foot under the table.

  She took a bite before anyone noticed her blush. “The baby is beautiful, Jonathan.” She smiled at Sophie; too artificially, she feared. She was desperate to ease the tension between the two men she cared for most in the world. “Is he well-tempered?”

  This was the distraction everyone needed. It was endearing how enthusiastic the new parents were, and she wondered how she and Jack would fare as parents, should the day ever arrive. The thought of Jack dandling their child on his knee was so intriguing she nearly sighed aloud.

  “Sebastian does love music,” Jonathan said, his face brightening. “I’m going to bring in a master when he’s older, just like you had, Georgiana.” He grinned suddenly. “Perhaps Jack and you can entertain us later. If you’re not too tired from your journey.”

  Wanting nothing more than to placate her brother, Georgiana smiled encouragingly at Jack, whose eyes had narrowed. “We would love to play. Would we not, Jack?”

  He shrugged, finally giving in to a brief laugh. “If it pleases my wife, I will pick up the bow.”

  Georgiana nearly trembled with relief. Supper ended on a lighter note, and they retired into the drawing room, where Georgiana gasped with delight at the new pianoforte commanding the room. Before she could comment on it, Jonathan touched her elbow.

  “It was meant to be a present upon your return.” He laughed sheepishly. “I thought it would soften the blow when I urged you to consider marrying Herbert Richmond.”

  “Bribing her with shiny new instruments? How fortunate for your purse Georgiana can be placated so easily,” Jack said wryly.

  “It’s beautiful, Jonathan. Thank you.” She kissed her brother’s cheek, and he squeezed her close for a moment.

  Jack picked up the violin resting on top of the pianoforte. The maple veneer gleamed in the lamplight. “This is a lovely instrument. I remember your father playing it.”

  Jonathan’s expression softened with the memory, and Georgiana resolved later to kiss her husband out of gratitude.

  “That was the Christmas after Mother died. He hadn’t played in so long, but Georgiana wanted music.”

  “And Georgiana always gets what Georgiana wants.” Jack’s gaze fused with hers. His desire was too blatant. Surely, her brother would say something, but when she looked at Jonathan, he was helping Sophie arrange some pillows on a settee. The nurse brought in Sebastian, and Sophie and Jonathan fussed over him, murmuring and laughing with each other in a private little world so intimate Georgiana averted her gaze.

  In the few times she’d ever dreamed about her future husband, she’d imagined a relationship like the one her brother and his wife enjoyed. How happy Sophie must be, knowing Jonathan’s heart was hers. She didn’t have to pretend to him or the rest of the world.

  To disband her sudden melancholia, she sat at the magnificent pianoforte, taking a few moments to explore the scrollwork and designs. “This is truly splendid, brother. I hope my playing does it justice.”

  “I thought you were playing every day abroad. Was that not why you begged me to let you go?”

  Before she could reply, Jack stood beside her, his presence solid comfort. “Do you honestly believe once we were married, we spent our days practicing duets?” This brought a raucous laugh from Jonathan before he collected himself. Sophie laughed behind her hand while Georgiana frowned at Jack, who merely wiggled his eyebrows at her.

  He drew the bow across the strings and played a few practice chords. “Give me an A,” he murmured to her, then nodded at Jonathan. “In truth, we didn’t have much time together. I was on my grandfather’s business, as you recall, and was occupied most of the time.”

  “Most of the time,” Jonathan muttered. His mouth twisted in irony. “Speaking of that fine old gentleman, does he know of your nuptials, or do you intend on surprising him as well?”

  Jack tuned the instrument before answering. “I am certain he will be as pleasantly surprised as you.” He turned to Georgiana, and her heart jumped into her throat by the warmth in his eyes. “Play Boccherini. We will prove to your brother how compatible we are, even if it is only through music.”

  They began playing in harmony, each picking up the other’s theme in flawless perfection. Jonathan wore a slight smile indicating he was contented and kissed his wife’s hand.

  Relieved, Georgiana glanced at Jack. Her heart thumped against her ribs. He played intently, but his gaze locked on her. They both knew the piece by heart, but it didn’t matter anymore. She would have played anything so long as they could play together. Her skill matched his, and even when he added an extra flourish, she kept up, arching her eyebrow at his acknowledging grin. She stared into his eyes until the sweet, almost reverent conclusion.

  Neither of them moved. Sophie clapped her hands. “That was beautiful. There is magic between you.” She handed the baby to Jonathan and stood. “I believe I shall go to bed now he is quiet.” She smiled serenely at her husband, who held the baby in one arm and slipped his other around her waist.

  “A wise idea. Georgiana, I thought to put you in your old chamber, and Jack in his. But…” He shook his head, his grin widening. “Do as you please. I see now you truly are in love. I was a fool to doubt it. You are welcome, Jack. May our home also be yours, just as it ever was.”

  Jack carefully laid the violin back in its case. “I appreciate that, Lockewood.”

  Georgiana blinked back tears. If only it were truly so. She closed the pianoforte case and rose from the bench. “It has been a long day.” She went to the little family and kissed her nephew’s soft cheek. “Good night, Sophie. Dear brother.” She kissed them both and turned to wait for Jack.

  He offered his arm, and they left the drawing room. She was too nervous to glance behind, in case her brother was watching. They walked in silence upstairs and down the long gallery lined with austere family portraits. At the end of the hall was a new portrait of her baby nephew. His golden curls resembled Jack’s. She imagined a portrait of her own child one day, hanging beside this one.

  Jack opened her chamber door but remained outside. “Shall I stay in my old chamber, Georgie? I do not want you to be uncomfortable, with your brother just down the corridor.”

  She almost gripped his hand in her panic not to have him out of her sight. It had been torture to be near him all day, catching his musky scent in the air, staring at the hard slope of his jaw which had borne so many of her kisses. How she’d longed to kiss him and touch him the way her sister-in-law did so freely with Jonathan.

  “I will not be uncomfortable.” She bit her lip, fighting the blush that quickly rose to her face. He was standing too c
lose, and at any moment, she wondered if he would take her in his arms right there in the corridor.

  “Then I will stay with you. Although—” He pushed open her door and glanced meaningfully around. “I do not know if I can share that little girl’s bed. We need to find someplace less filled with memories of you in ruffles and bows.”

  “There is my governess’s old chamber next door. Will that do?”

  He gave her a conspiratorial smile, then went to that chamber and opened the door. He nodded. “The bed is made, and we don’t require a fire, anyway.”

  He held out his hand and she hurried to him, stifling a giggle as he pulled her into the room. Only when he’d closed the door did he sigh comically. He tugged at his neckcloth and wrapped the fabric around his hand to fold it.

  “Make no mistake, Georgie. He saw right through us.” He removed his coat and sat on the settee to take off his boots. “The jokes at supper, our playing together…” He pulled off his second boot and looked up at her. “If he asks to speak to you alone, it is probably to interrogate you. If he is not convinced, he may force me to abandon you altogether.” He screwed up his face in a mocking attitude of despair.

  She laughed, though her heart ached at the thought. She knelt at his feet and helped him with his boots. His stocking had a run in it. She pulled at a thread, which made the run worse.

  “I think he was convinced. You seemed…” Very much in love with me. “You seemed sincere enough.”

  “As did you. Good job with your long, meaningful gazes. You almost had me convinced.” He twined one of her long curls around his finger. She leaned forward, her hands sliding up his thighs, while his muscles flexed beneath her palms. His head lowered for a kiss, but she drew back, causing him to raise an eyebrow.

  “Of what did I convince you, Mr. Waverley?”

  “That you are madly and rapturously in love with me.” He released her hair and ran his hands down her bare shoulders to caress her arms.

  Her heart dropped into her stomach. Was there just the slightest expression in his eyes indicating he wished it so? She slid her hands up his chest and began unbuttoning his waistcoat. “Is that what my look meant when I passed you the butter?”