A Gallant Gamble (Unrivalled Regency Book 3)

by Williams, Jackie

  Olivia began unbuttoning her dress and pulling the pins from her hair. She helped the young woman into her nightdress before kissing her on the forehead and tucking her into the big bed.

  “So you like him already. It is a good start. I think it will all turn out for the good. You need to marry someone. It might as well be someone who you already know and like. Maybe it was fate that put that stone seat in the way.” She raised a quizzical eyebrow.

  Charlotte said nothing as she sighed deeply, snuggled beneath the covers and closed her tired eyes. It felt as though only a few minutes had passed before Louise opened her curtains to let in the morning sunshine as she bustled about Charlotte’s room, fussing delightedly over the news of the surprise wedding as she arranged Charlotte a scented bath.

  Geoffrey waited nervously at the front of the church. He’d not slept well, visions of Charlotte galloping across fields as she tried to escape her fate kept him twisting and turning in the dusty bed. From the look of the man’s heavy lidded eyes over their breakfast, it didn’t look as though Giles had fared much better.

  His valet stood by his side. As Giles would be accompanying Charlotte, and lacking any other particular friend in town, he had sent a note around to the Albany house and asked Coalport to stand with him as his groomsman. His delighted valet had appeared only half an hour later, arms full of clothes and with a carriage full of twittering maids who immediately rushed into the house to join those already there, and began dusting and polishing with an almost alarming vigour.

  Now, the rector peered up at him from behind his round spectacles. He had squinted suspiciously at the special licence when Geoffrey had shown it to him earlier that morning, but had agreed to the last minute service for an extra increment.

  Olivia sat in the opposite pew, her hands in her lap as she refused to look over towards him. Geoffrey suspected that her reluctance to meet his gaze was more to do with the fact that Coalport was looking very dapper in a beautiful navy blue suit, his cravat tied meticulously and his jacket looking as though it had been painted on his skin.

  Geoffrey looked down at his own wedding outfit. Somewhere in the last weeks, he had missed seeing the ensemble that Coalport had laid out for him that morning. Stepping out of his bath after his early morning visit to the bishop and to the shops along Hatton Row, Geoffrey had seen the midnight blue breeches and coat for the first time. He looked quizzically at his valet but Coalport had merely added the finest waistcoat Geoffrey had ever seen. Its silver threads gave a subtle hint of grey and when he stood to look at the whole ensemble a few minutes later, he realized that the colour matched his eyes perfectly.

  The church door creaked open somewhere behind him and Geoffrey breathed in steadily, trying to still his pounding heart as he heard footsteps approach him from behind, but when he turned, he was surprised to see Lord Charles Latham, Lord Hubert Carruthers and Sir Anthony Torrington making their way towards him. Olivia’s friends, Lord and Lady Latham, and Lord and Lady Armitage who immediately moved to sit with the now smiling Duchess, followed them.

  The three younger men moved to shake Geoffrey’s hand. Hubert Carruthers immediately began apologising for his uncouth behaviour at their first meeting.

  “I hope that you understood that our banter at dinner that first night was all a joke. Had we realized that Lady Charlotte was your intended we would never have been so crass. Let me assure you that nothing we said that night was acted upon.”

  Torrington took Geoffrey’s hand next.

  “Bit thick of us really. We really should have guessed what was going on the moment we met you. Lord Caithwell would never have sent his ward into town with you if there wasn’t some expectation of your marriage. Can’t think why we didn’t realize it before. That must have been why old Ainsworth warned us off. He’s older and wiser, of course.” He shook his head as Carruther’s nodded vigorously.

  Charles Latham gave him a short bow.

  “I came to offer my own congratulations. She is a beautiful woman and you are a lucky man to win her affections, though I confess that I had thought it might be a fine outcome when I saw you with her a few nights ago. The attraction between the two of you was palpable, nevertheless, even though you are marrying her and will keep her close to your heart, should she ever need my assistance she only has to ask.” He bowed again before the three of them moved to take their seats behind him.

  Geoffrey’s heart filled his chest and he had difficulty swallowing. He glanced over towards Olivia, the only person who could have arranged for this all to happen. She gave a small smile back as he nodded his head in gratitude for her actions. The attendance of her old friends and his apparent new ones, though not enough to cover the scandal completely, added an air of respectability to the proceedings. He cared nothing for himself but he would have been devastated if Charlotte had been shunned by society.

  He turned back towards the rector whose expression had changed somewhat at seeing his now illustrious congregation. He smiled benevolently and looked along the aisle as the front door of the church opened again.

  Geoffrey couldn’t look this time. He stared down at the floor suddenly unable to meet her gaze, knowing that his heart would break if he saw condemnation or hatred in her beautiful blue eyes.

  Her delicate scent wafted over him and he dared to glance across the aisle. He could see pale silk and a soft lace veil. In her hand she held a small posy of blossoms. The petals trembled.

  Geoffrey could bare it no longer. He looked up. Through the delicate lace veil he could see the heightened colour in her cheeks and the sparkle of tears on her lashes. She sucked in her full bottom lip then let out a huffed, resigned breath as the rector began the far too short ceremony.

  They sat silently opposite one another in the carriage that bore them back to Alexander’s townhouse. Charlotte stared down at her left hand where Geoffrey had only minutes before, placed the most beautiful ring she had ever seen. When or how he had bought it, she had no idea, but the full circle of cornflower blue sapphires edged with tiny sparkling diamonds was like nothing she had ever seen before. She glanced up and saw him staring back at her, his full lips pressed together and a strange glimmer in his stormy sky eyes.

  Her heart thumped erratically and her pulse throbbed in her ears. She wanted to say something to him, but his unreadable expression kept her lips sealed.

  After the ceremony he had caught hold of her shoulders with the lightest touch, leaned forwards slightly and then bent to kiss her forehead rather than her lips. She wondered why. It felt as though he was absolving her of some kind of naughty trick.

  She looked away from him again and out through the windows of the carriage. Some raggedly dressed children chased after them for a few paces but soon lost interest and went after more lucrative fare when they realized that she wasn’t about to scatter any pennies. She couldn’t. She had none. Her heart thumped hard again.

  She had nothing. Nothing at all but a husband who now owned everything, including her. She closed her eyes at the thought. She had no reason to believe that Geoffrey would be a harsh husband, but she couldn’t rid her thoughts of the years she had spent nearly starving and wearing rags. Only the arrival of her cousin Giles had saved her and now he had thrown her to the wolves again. Not that Geoffrey was a wolf. He was exactly the opposite in fact, but that didn’t make her feel any better. He hadn’t wanted this.

  A tear slipped from her lashes and before she could dash it away, Geoffrey leaned forwards, wiping it so gently with the pad of his thumb that for a moment she wondered if he had actually touched her skin. He dabbed his wet thumb with his handkerchief.

  “I am so sorry, Charlotte. If I could take back last night I would, you know that.” His voice was a near whisper as he tucked the material back into his pocket.

  She shook her head and gave a brittle smile.

  “It wasn’t your fault. I should have held my tongue instead of arguing with you. It’s a late lesson to learn, but I am truly sorry for it. I’l
l try to be a dutiful wife.” She swallowed the shards of glass that seem to have lodged in her throat.

  Geoffrey threw himself back in his seat and stared at her in horror. He clenched his jaw several times before speaking in angry tones.

  “I don’t want a dutiful wife. Good God, woman! What do you take me for? If I had wanted a dutiful wife I would have married one of the girls from the farms around Ormond, years ago.” He took a deep, frustrated breath and turned to stare out of the window as they drew up to the Albany.

  Charlotte blinked in shock. He really didn’t want her at all. A layer of ice encased her whole being. Frost began to penetrate her flesh, sending its icy fronds into her bloodstream as it worked its way into her heart.

  Bottomley opened the carriage door and pulled out the step. Geoffrey stepped down first and then held his hand up to assist his new wife. She took it for only long enough for her reach the pavement and was about to shake it free when Geoffrey placed her hand firmly on his arm.

  “Smile and become the blushing bride,” he intoned quietly as a grin that never reached the corners of his eyes, became plastered on his face.

  She glanced up at him with quizzical eyes before she realized that the other carriages had drawn up behind them and their guests were pouring out. Her lips felt as though they were made from suet pastry as she smiled alongside her new husband.

  It was suddenly all bustle and noise as Olivia rushed up and kissed Charlotte before heading up the steps into the house where the newly married couple were shocked to find all the staff lined up to congratulate them and a full luncheon waiting to be served.

  Three hours later, after the pair of them had shoved their food around their plates and been toasted more times than Geoffrey could remember, they were back in the carriage and heading off to St. George Street where Giles had insisted that they spend the first few weeks of their married life. While grateful that the question of their lodgings had been sorted out so neatly, Geoffrey felt sick to his stomach with the proceedings.

  He pulled at his cravat.

  “What a fiasco.” He flung the material down on the seat beside him. “I can’t believe that Olivia went to all that trouble. A whole salmon, a capon, and a ham that must have come from the biggest porker in the country. What with all the pies, tarts and cakes, I swear that there was enough to feed the whole street. I cannot imagine what on earth was she thinking or how on earth she managed to arrange it all so quickly.” He huffed out a breath.

  Charlotte raised her eyebrows.

  “You should be grateful. She’s sending most of the leftover food to us, along with Coalport and Louise. Apparently Louise can cook as well as she can dress hair, which is probably just as well seeing as I will have no use of her to help with my toilette.”

  Geoffrey stared at her in horror. Being surrounded by staff was going to make this all so much more difficult. Louise might be a help in the kitchen but Coalport was a step too far. Though he liked the man, he had hoped that he might be able to enjoy dressing himself from now on.

  “Coalport! Dear heavens! I thought he and Olivia...hell, forget what I thought. I don’t think I have any chance of stopping him attending me, but what do you mean about Louise and your toilette? Are you going to go about unwashed or undressed from now on?” The twinkle in his eye told her that he was barely serious.

  She rolled her eyes, but then became solemn. She shrugged.

  “Well, it’s not as if we will be receiving many invitations. Olivia’s attempt at making things look respectable by inviting her friends to the wedding might just tip the balance in our favour, but if it doesn’t we can be assured of spending a lot of nights at home. I should have thought sooner and gathered some books from the library to tide us over any dull patches.”

  Geoffrey felt his stomach clench.

  “Is that what you want? To be invited to all the balls and routs, dinner parties and soirees.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “I didn’t realize that you were enjoying it all so much.”

  Charlotte frowned.

  “I wasn’t particularly, but to go from being the sensation of the season to an outcast in just one day is a little disconcerting to say the least. Perhaps I will have to take up stitching samplers.” She almost laughed at the ridiculous thought, but Geoffrey’s expression hardened.

  “Outcaste,” he said quietly before he cleared his throat. “I assume that you mean because of me and our marriage. I had no idea that I was so disgusting to you.” Without waiting for a response from her, he suddenly stood up in the carriage and called up to Callum. “Stop the damn vehicle!”

  He opened the door and Charlotte gasped as he leapt down while they were still moving. He didn’t even look back as he strode off, coattails swirling, into the darkness of a narrow side street.

  Callum leaned down.

  “Miss Charlotte? Is everything alright? Would you like me to wait?”

  Charlotte gazed after her husband and fought the tears that had sprung into her eyes. She had offended him again. She sat back in her seat before she answered Callum.

  “No, we should move on. He has just gone to speak with a friend and will be home later.”

  Callum stared at her for a long moment before he shook his head gently, closed the hatch, and whipped up the horses again.

  Geoffrey sat in the darkened corner of the inn and nursed his fifth glass of brandy. The taproom was noisy and only a few glanced in his direction. No one dared speak to him as the fury rolled from him in waves. A young woman came closer, tray in hand. She gave him a tentative smile, but then recoiled as he growled out his order.

  “The bottle this time, but no more of this gut rot.” He flung down a coin. “Bring me the best you have.”

  The woman didn’t wait to be told again. She snatched up the money and went straight to the bar. A few moments later, she came back to his corner carrying a full bottle of amber liquid and a fresh glass. She leaned over him as she unstopped the bottle and poured him a generous measure.

  “Now what’s a fine young gent like you doing down in Bosun Bill’s? Drowning your sorrows, eh, me darlin’?” she crooned gently as she flipped her dark hair back over a pale, exposed shoulder. Geoffrey glowered up at her from beneath furrowed brows, but she wasn’t cowed by his threatening look. She leaned closer, the top of her dress dipping to reveal the tops of her large breasts. Geoffrey glanced at her coarse skin and almost shuddered as he noticed the faint impression of bruises and bite marks marring her flesh. The woman stood straighter as she realized where his gaze lay. She hitched her dress a little higher and carried on in a voice that sounded as though gravel had been poured down her throat. “Ah, it be a woman who ‘as frustrated ye, then. You should stick with me, dearie. I ain’t the sort to anger a man who wears cloth such as this and who bears gold in ‘is pockets.” She trailed a fingertip across his broad shoulder.

  Geoffrey shrugged her off but remained silent as he picked up the glass and drank deeply. Fire caught in the back of his throat. This brandy was considerably stronger than the previous five glasses. He poured another large measure and gestured the woman away.

  “I am not fit company to keep. Go about your business and leave me in peace.”

  The woman turned, but then looked back over her shoulder.

  “If it’s peace that thee wants I can help you there. A ‘little death’ always relieves the concerns of the heart.” She nodded back at the bottle of brandy. “You can bring the bottle upstairs if you wish.”

  Geoffrey picked up his glass and stared down into the dark spirit. He breathed in before he flung the contents of the glass down his throat. The burning had lessened but the fire that still raged in his heart refused to be cooled.

  He waved the woman away again.

  “Be gone. If I have need of your services, I will ask. All I want for the moment is to be left alone.”

  The woman sighed and flicked her hair again as she sashayed away from him, giving him the full benefit of her ample hips. She moved a few pac
es before going to another table where several gentlemen sat drinking and playing cards. The woman moved around the table and bent over one of the players. She spoke into the man’s ear and he glanced up at Geoffrey a few seconds later. Geoffrey held the man’s gaze and then returned to staring at his brandy.

  He swirled the dark gold liquid in his glass before breathing in the heady aroma. This had to be the best and yet the worst day of his life. He was married to Charlotte, the woman who had possessed his heart and soul for the last eighteen months. It was something he had never held a hope of achieving and yet it had happened, but the reality of what he had done chilled his heart.

  If only it hadn’t happened through his clumsiness. He hadn’t meant to trip on the stone bench. He hadn’t meant to lie on top of her for so long. If he had thought faster and hastened to his feet he might have been able to salvage the situation, but those beautiful mounds of fragrant skin had sent his brain spiralling out of control. The breath he had drawn while his nose was so close to her flesh had been the most delightful of his life. Orange blossom and almonds had turned into an aphrodisiac sweeter than the most succulent oysters and he had lingered too long.

  Surprisingly, Giles hadn’t horse whipped him from Lord Davenport’s gardens all the way back to Ormond. Though Charlotte’s guardian frowned deeply and remained very quiet, he hadn’t seemed too angry about the situation. Perhaps he was more resigned than annoyed at the loss of Charlotte’s prospects.

  They had barely talked as they had entered the dusty house in St. George Street the night before, but as Giles had lit the candles and considered the sleeping arrangements there hadn’t been the condemnation and fury that Geoffrey had expected. Giles had simply reminded him to be about early for the special licence and had then retreated to the larger of the bedrooms. Geoffrey thought that the man was probably so angry that he was speechless.

  He had turned to the study, dusted off the upholstery in the one big chair and sat down to think. His first major worry was about his and Charlotte’s accommodation. Until he could arrange transport home, he’d have to find somewhere suitable to rent immediately, though how he was meant to do that with virtually no funds of his own, he had no idea. Nearly all the money that he held in his purse belonged to Alexander and Giles, who had set him up with an entitlement for the duration of his stay in London. Neither of them had stipulated what it was meant to cover, but Geoffrey had assumed that it was for incidentals that either Olivia or Charlotte might need when they were about in town. He hadn’t spent a penny of it so far.