How to Marry a Rogue

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How to Marry a Rogue Page 31

by Anna Small


  Looked at Georgiana.

  The breath strangled in her throat as a thousand or more emotions ran through her. She took in everything—the triumph in his eyes, the shirt hanging in tatters over his broad shoulders. His face looked bruised, but nothing worse than what she’d seen before. The glimmer of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

  “You owe my wife an apology.”

  As Edward sputtered the words she didn’t care to receive, she broke from Mrs. Leister’s grasp and reached her husband. Before she could kiss him or do anything but cling to him, the patrol appeared. Jonathan shoved Georgiana and Jack toward the woods, where Roberts waited in the darkness with the carriage.

  Jack almost threw her inside and slammed the door behind them. Roberts urged the horses in the opposite direction. The last thing Georgiana saw before Jack swiped the curtain closed was Jonathan and Mrs. Leister disappearing into the night, while Edward remained on the ground, surrounded by the authorities.

  ****

  “What the devil are you doing here?” Jack’s lips were cracked and bloody. Chest heaving, he leaned back against the padded wall, sweat dripping from his face and mingling with a hairline scratch across his cheek. She dabbed at the cut with her handkerchief, ignoring the tears sliding down her face. He gently grasped her wrist and pulled her hand down.

  “I came to rescue you.”

  They were both silent until they broke into matched spontaneous laughter. He kissed her hand and held it firmly on his thigh.

  “How did you know where to find me?”

  “Mrs. Leister—” She gulped and closed her eyes for a second. “She told me what you’d planned. Jonathan and I have been searching for you all night.”

  He was quiet a moment. “There is nothing between Sarah and me.”

  “She loves you.” Her eyes filled with fresh tears, although if they were from relief or regret, she didn’t know.

  “I am aware of that. She also loves your brother, so I only possess half her love.” He winked to soften the intimation. “So….” He let out a long sigh. “The two bumbling babies I’ve always rescued have become my own heroes.” His hand trembled slightly as he stroked her cheek.

  “You had better get used to it, Jack.”

  “I agree, especially since I’ve officially given up fighting from this moment forward. This little bout with Mitford has winded me. By the way, did you see how badly the scoundrel’s nose was smashed? I daresay he received another blow after I did the honors.”

  Her knuckles burned at the memory. “I would not be surprised. He has a bad habit of crossing the wrong people.”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “I don’t suppose you would know anything about it?”

  A giggle escaped her although she didn’t know how she could possibly find amusement given the recent situation. “Perhaps I made my point a little too clearly.”

  “One of my boxing supporters happened to be strolling through St. James’s and mentioned it. Of course, he assured me the girl in question only resembled my innocent bride and could not possibly be Jonathan Lockewood’s esteemed sister.” He kissed the back of her knuckles, and she winced. He grinned, but his smile faded a second later. “Georgie, I have to ask. Why did you call his name and not mine?”

  The old jealousy was back. He would never forget she’d once loved the despicable man who’d nearly been the ruin of them all. At least she could assure him now.

  “I knew he would turn at the sound of a woman’s voice and you would not. You’ve always said how focused you are in a fight.”

  “And I thought you were only pretending to listen to me until you could drag me back into your bed.”

  “There is that.” She leaned against his chest, his heart thudding beneath her ear. “I should have trusted you, Jack. The fault is all mine.”

  His arm squeezed around her, pressing her face into his damp shirt. “Forgive me. I should have told you the truth from the start. I’d hoped to return the money before you found out.”

  “I’d have given it to you freely.”

  A heavy sigh shook him. “I never wanted to touch your money, my love. I only took it to stop Mitford from blackmailing us. His lies would have ruined you.”

  “I do not care about anything he could say. Do you not see, Jack? You’re all that matters to me.”

  He kissed her forehead, then broke their embrace. “I’m covered in blood, dearest. There will be plenty of time later.” A familiar glint in his eyes made her laugh despite her emotional turmoil. “Besides, I must be careful with you in your delicate state.” A faint dimple appeared in his cheek when he tried not to smile.

  She thumped him lightly on the chest. “Do not be too careful with me, Jack. I warn you I will not be careful with you, once you are patched and cleaned up.” She slipped her fingers between his shirt buttons and caressed his chest.

  “Hmm. I’d forgotten how spirited you Lockewoods are. Must not forget again.”

  “I’m a Lockewood no longer, if you’d be so kind as to remember. I’m your wife and always shall be.”

  She twined her hand around his neck, forcing him to lower his head. He brushed a light kiss across her lips.

  “That you are.” He pulled her onto his lap, wincing only for a second before clasping her firmly. “I never knew how stubborn you can be,” he whispered.

  “Almost as stubborn as you.”

  “My sweet Pudding Face. What a commanding mother you shall be to our offspring.” His hand skimmed down her side, fingers spreading to encompass her growing belly.

  “Harrumph.” She slapped his hand, but lightly, since even his knuckles bore scratches from Edward’s sabre. “At least one parent shall maintain control and order in our house.”

  His chest vibrated with silent laughter beneath her ear, and she closed her eyes, content in the knowledge they’d weathered the worst of the storms together. Now, they only had to look forward to a peaceful existence with their new family. She could hardly wait.

  “I’ve finally decided what name you may call me.”

  “What? No more Pudding Face?”

  She shook her head. “Never again.”

  “I suppose Georgie is out of the question.”

  “Only when I’m in a particularly good humor.”

  “I shall ensure it shall always be the case.” He shifted her into a better position on his lap. “Tell me then, what you’ve decided.”

  She framed his face with her hands and caressed his cheekbones with the tips of her fingers. She touched his lips, which kissed her back.

  “Yours.”

  Epilogue

  “He looks very much like a tadpole but, fortunately, possesses the handsome Lockewood eyes,” Jonathan said, not bothering to hide his grin while he examined the baby cradled in Jack’s arms. Aunt Adele, who had left Bolbec once Georgiana entered her confinement, clucked her tongue.

  Jack frowned. “Come now, man! Ambrose has the sturdiest legs I’ve ever seen. Do you not agree, Aunt Adele? And his hands…have you ever seen such a strong grip? Look how he grips his papa’s finger. As if he would pull himself up.”

  Jonathan clapped Jack’s shoulder. “Welcome to fatherhood, old friend.” He stooped to hoist Sebastian into his arms and walked over to Georgiana, who reclined on a chaise, holding back her laughter while she watched the interplay between the two men she loved best. “How is the new mamma?”

  “Tired, but happy. Poor Sophie—you are going through with this again.”

  Her sister-in-law laughed as she touched her belly with a caressing hand. Her expanding waistline was the result of another little Lockewood on the way. “I only hope your brother will be content with two children for a few years, at least.”

  “At the very least. I intend to have an entire battalion of the little devils. Just as long as they have your temperament and beauty.”

  They kissed, and Georgiana averted her eyes from the tender scene, her heart full with the amount of love in the room. If asked a year ago if sh
e thought her life would turn out this way, she’d have laughed. Who could ever have predicted the girl who’d protested she would never fall in love would now be the happiest woman in the world?

  Jack sat on the edge of Georgiana’s chaise and relinquished the bundle in his arms. “One week old and already he has commanded my heart. Much as his mother did, so many years ago.” He twined a long curl of her hair around his finger and gave a gentle tug.

  “It took you enough years to acknowledge it,” Jonathan muttered.

  Georgiana laughed at the attractive flush spreading up her husband’s throat to reach his solid jaw. The scratches and cuts inflicted by Edward months ago had healed, and hardly a trace remained of their origin. Edward had not fared as well. Jonathan heard that Edward’s latest mistress had banned him from her house, and he was now living abroad in Paris, having been declared persona non grata in London by those irascible patronesses at Almack’s. Georgiana could only hope he would not return to England any time soon.

  When she stroked her husband’s cheek, the ruby ring on her finger sparkled. Jack had presented it to her with much fanfare when his grandfather brought over the remaining family heirlooms upon Ambrose’s birth. As if her thoughts summoned him, Grandpapa—as Tibby and Sebastian dubbed him—strode into the room, carrying Tibby on his shoulder as if he had been born to the task. Maisie was close behind, alternately scolding the little boy and apologizing to Lord Waverley, who merely laughed.

  “How are you today, milady?” Maisie gave up on separating the old gentleman and her son and fussed over Georgiana with the tenderness of a sister. Her shyness was gone, and she flourished in her new position as nursemaid to the littlest Waverley.

  “I am wonderful. In fact, I think I will relinquish the sick bed today and have a walk around the garden.”

  Aunt Adele pushed another pillow beneath Georgiana’s feet. “You must not move an inch, my dear! You are still in a very delicate condition.”

  Lord Waverley set Tibby on the carpet and began pouring the tea. He handed Aunt Adele a porcelain cup. Georgiana noticed a certain giddiness about her aunt whenever Grandfather Waverley was around.

  “I think she is robust enough to enjoy the sunshine, so rare this time of year. Perhaps we may accompany her.”

  Georgiana stifled a laugh with a discreet cough. Aunt Adele simpered and batted her eyelashes like a young girl.

  “Perhaps. But I cannot stay for long. I must return to my packing.”

  “You aren’t going back to France so soon, Aunt Adele?” Jack asked.

  She sighed. “My poor sister wants me. Nevertheless, I admit I dread the crossing, my dears. I think this will be the last time I make the voyage.”

  A journey of a few days had become an epic adventure. Before Georgiana could suggest her husband escort the dear soul, Lord Waverley cleared his throat.

  “If I do not intrude, I would like to offer the use of my sloop, dear lady. As it happens, I am long overdue in paying a visit to my old friend, Gaston. He has had the running of our vignoble all to himself for much too long. Would you not agree, Jack?”

  Jack nodded in an effusive show of concern. “Undoubtedly. He requires your acumen in certain matters of business.”

  Lord Waverley grunted. “Just as I thought.” He bowed slightly to Aunt Adele. “If you would prefer to travel in comfort, madam, I would be most honored if you’d allow me to take you across the Channel.”

  Georgiana avoided Jack’s amused gaze, knowing she would burst into laughter if she caught his eye. Aunt Adele appeared to think about it for a few moments, but Georgiana already knew her response.

  “If it would not be too much trouble, Lord Waverley.” She sipped her tea, the tip of her pinky quivering.

  “Please, call me Ambrose. Why, we are practically family.”

  Tibby wandered over to Jack, who promptly scooped the little boy onto his lap.

  You must take care of little Ambrose, Master Tibbs,” Jack admonished with mock seriousness. “He will be prone to finding trouble, much as his dear mamma did in her youth.”

  “I never found as much trouble as when you were around, Jack.”

  “How very true.” Jonathan winked at her and motioned to Sophie. “Come, let us all repair to the garden, so the new parents may relish this time together.”

  Lord Waverley offered his arm to Aunt Adele, who made such a blushing display over the gesture Georgiana sensed the old dear would not remain in France for long. Maisie collected Tibby and closed the door behind them.

  Georgiana tried to convey the deepest reaches of her heart to her husband with one glance. “I hope you know how much I love you.”

  “I will strive to deserve you for the rest of my life.”

  She settled the baby in her arms, amazed at how quickly three individual souls had merged into a family. She kissed Ambrose’s petal-soft cheek. “He looks like you, Jack.”

  “No, my dear—I beg to differ. He looks just like you.” His voice trembled with pride.

  “But he will be strong like his father.”

  “And have the musical ear of his mother.”

  “Oh, Jack! You play brilliantly.” She’d have said more, but his meaningful look told her no more words were required. She shifted her position so Jack could recline beside her, the baby between them. Jack stroked his downy cheek with a fingertip while Georgiana caressed her husband’s hand.

  “Your grandfather is so proud.”

  “He wants me to take over his enterprises here and abroad. This trip to Bordeaux is a ruse so he may accompany dear Aunt Adele.”

  “They will be good for each other. He seems so happy.”

  “I know,” he mused. “I keep expecting a lecture on how to be a good father to his great-grandson, but he hasn’t spoken one ill word.”

  “He only wants what is best for you.”

  “I know what is best for me.”

  He tilted up her chin and brushed his lips across hers. She was about to tease him into asking what he meant, but was distracted by the taste of her husband’s mouth and the surge of desire his nearness always inspired. The baby’s soft cry interrupted them. Jack gave him the tip of his finger to suck. He pressed his cheek to her forehead.

  “Well done,” he murmured.

  She gazed up at him, her eyes brimming over with tears she no longer had to hide. “It’s not done yet, Jack. We’ve only just started.”

  A word about the author...

  Anna Small wrote her first romance novel when she was sixteen. Her mother’s only criticism was not to have any love scenes. Anna was sorry to disappoint her.

  Several books and years later, she happily writes heartwarming, sensual, historical and contemporary romances which capture the imagination of her readers. Sharing the journey are her husband (who serves as a willing research participant for the love scenes) and their two children, who support her dreams and put up with a messy house.

  She is a member of Romance Writers of America and the Sunshine State Romance Authors chapter.

  You can visit her at:

  http://www.annasmallbooks.com

  Thank you for purchasing

  this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

 

 

 


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