A Gallant Gamble (Unrivalled Regency Book 3)

by Williams, Jackie

  Charlotte trembled again.

  “If he wakes? Oh God! He has to, I can’t bear to think of it if he doesn’t.” She grabbed Giles’ lapels with frantic fingers as her tears streamed down her face. “I thought Anne would be with you. I’ve wanted to talk to her so much over the last few days, but as she’s not here, I have to tell you. I cannot hold all this in any longer...Giles, please don’t be angry with me. I know that Geoffrey’s not a lord or an earl, or even a sir, but I don’t care. I wouldn’t care if he was a chimney sweep or a King. I love him. I love him so much that if he dies I know I will die alongside him. I cannot live without him.”

  Giles felt her body quaking in his arms. He crooked his finger beneath her chin and lifted it so that she looked into his dark blue eyes. He smiled tenderly down at her.

  “I know that you do. I’ve known for a long time, Charlotte. Why do you think I sent you to London with him in the first place? It wasn’t just because of you needing an escort. I could have chosen any number of men to do that quite adequately. No, I wanted you both to have a chance to know one another, for Geoff to prove his worth to you and to himself. I wasn’t expecting what happened at Lord Davenport’s, but I wasn’t upset or annoyed. I felt that it just brought an inevitable outcome to fruition a little sooner than expected, though I confess that I had not foreseen this state of affairs. I honestly thought that Geoffrey would be thrilled to have you to himself.”

  Charlotte shook her head as her mind reeled in shock at his revelation.

  “I think that you made a mistake in sending him with us. You know that I never intended to marry. After all I went through with my father and brother I thought you understood my reasons why. But that is all irrelevant anyway now as the deed is already done and my love for him means nothing. It doesn’t change the fact that he has no interest in me. All that does matter is that he recovers. I don’t care if he never wants to see me again, but he has to live.” There was a fiery determination in her tone.

  Giles nodded and motioned her towards the chair beside the bed.

  “Come and sit with him. The doctor has done his work. His wounds are cleaned and bandaged and Coalport has placed a bowl of onions beneath the bed to help rid his body of any other bad humours. I know that your presence will comfort him regardless of whether he wanted to marry you or not. We will all do our best to help him recover and worry about your relationship afterwards.”

  Charlotte sighed deeply as she sat and took hold of Geoffrey’s bandaged hand. A worried looking Coalport arrived soon after with blankets and a pillow. He made up a makeshift bed on the settle but Giles knew Charlotte would not use it that night. He wrapped the blanket about his cousin, said goodnight to Charlotte with a kiss on her forehead and made his way out of the room with the doctor walking beside him.

  Geoffrey’s whole body screamed in pain and trembled with cold. He’d never felt so chilled in all his life. He remembered the feel of the icy, black water as it closed in over his head and shuddered even harder. Never had he thought to meet his end robbed of most of his possessions, and beaten black and blue before being thrown into the Thames at the dead of night with a sack of rocks tied to his feet. If he could stop his teeth chattering for long enough he would actually be furious at the indignity of it all.

  He wasn’t sure when he’d realized that it was all a set-up. One of his own making, of course. He’d willingly gone to the inn in order to become so drunk that he couldn’t remember his own name. A name that would forever be hated by his new wife.

  His wife! God, how he loved those two words, but he had seen how the very thought of being married crushed her. She had said that she would become a dutiful wife. His guts churned at what she thought he wanted from her. He didn’t want her dutiful. He wanted her wild and free, with the wind blowing in her hair as she galloped across the sand on Lightning, his own senses rampant as he saw her tight buttocks encased in her brother’s old breeches.

  He’d cursed himself for a fool when he’d realized his mistake at the inn. The onion scented blonde woman began pulling at his shirt and he had resisted, only to find that his hands wouldn’t co-operate as he attempted to fend her off. It was only when the other woman joined the first that he felt himself lucky. After discovering all the gold he had about his person, the women proceeded to attempt to take what he would never have willingly given. Fortunately for him the drugs they had used had taken effect so well that no parts of his body had worked at all.

  The two whores called him all the names they could think of when nothing they tried would arouse him, but names could never hurt as much as the feelings of betrayal spearing his heart as they touched and abused his inert body. If Charlotte knew or ever found out, her disgust would probably kill him. It was only after they had done their worst and failed with him that they called the three burly men into the room.

  With his senses still reeling, they had overcome him easily enough, beaten him and stolen anything of value. The drugs had taken such a hold that he could barely stand let alone fight his way out of the situation, and his last thought before blacking out was a hope that Charlotte would never find out about the two women. A day lying on the cold floor of the room had roused him enough to make a short stand against the men when they returned a second time. Geoffrey wondered what more they thought they could steal. Standing in a set of undergarments short of naked, they had already taken everything else he had, including his handmade boots.

  He’d fought for his life, breaking the nose of one and feeling the ribs of another crack before someone had come up behind him and whacked him over the head with what felt like a ton weight, but was more probably a full wine bottle. Afterwards there wasn’t much to remember. Someone forcing him to drink more brandy, hands tying him, lifting him and then the cold rush of water as he sank deep into the river.

  It was probably the swiftly moving tide that saved him. He had sunk like a rock, the sack of stones weighing him down so quickly that he thought it would all be over in seconds, but the rapidly moving water picked up his weight and dragged him in the current. The rough-sewn sack must have scraped along the bottom of the river and quickly worn a hole in the thin material. The rocks had slipped through the gap and set him free to float away on the tide.

  Sometime later he recalled a boatman shouting at him and more hands turning him over, but by then the cold and his beaten body had taken its toll. He was too far gone to recognize the face that peered down at him and too cold to speak. Then strong arms were about him and a thick blanket placed over him, and now he was in a large bed with smell the faint scent of onions surrounding him again.

  He couldn’t face the thought of that disgusting light-skirt touching him again. Through the pain in his hands and his head he thrashed and fought his bonds as she came nearer.

  “Get yourself away from me, woman. Your attentions are not wanted.” He could hear the shake in his own voice and he cleared his throat as he attempted to sound more assertive. “Don’t touch me, I don’t want you!” he shouted as she came ever nearer.

  Her cry didn’t scare him, but his body recoiled at the thought of her hands on him. He groaned painfully and turned away from her, but the bed dipped behind him and her cracked voice whispered in his ear.

  “I’m only here to comfort you. I’ll do anything for you. Tell me what you want, what I can do for you.”

  He ignored the ache in his ribs as his stomach rolled and his chest heaved. He’d never want anything from this harlot, not even her words of comfort. He wanted someone he could never have and who he would probably never see again. His heart lurched in his chest and suddenly stuttered, beating out a rapid, uneven rhythm as it fractured into a thousand pieces. Damp warmth touched his cheek. A salty droplet slipped into the corner of his mouth and he realized that it was his own tears.

  He felt the hideous woman breathe over him, and for a confused moment, he smelled apple blossom and the spring tide.

  Charlotte! He reached out for the woman he loved more than anyth
ing in existence...but recoiled as the onions took over once more. The whore came nearer and he knew that the love of his life would never have him now.

  “I won’t leave you...Tell me what you want?” The trollop asked again.

  “My wife,” he thought to himself as the chill of darkness took him once again. “I want my Charlotte.”

  He groaned as he turned on his side and she only narrowly missed his flung out arm as he shouted at her to get away from him. He’d been quiet for hours and for hours she had watched over him. Night had come and gone, returned once again and never once had she left his side.

  Only a few hours earlier, the doctor had examined him again and pronounced him better than expected. His ribs looked bruised but not broken, as he had originally feared, however the drugs hadn’t yet left his system and the river water hadn’t helped his condition either. His temperature was up slightly and the doctor frowned in consternation at his patient as sweat beaded on Geoffrey’s brow.

  “I suspect that he has some infection from the river water, but we’ll know more soon. He’ll either cool down or heat up. If his temperature goes much higher, you will be in for a rough time until the fever breaks. Keep him cool, plenty of tepid cloths to keep the temperature down.”

  Charlotte had said goodbye to the physician not long later and already Geoffrey was warmer to the touch. Tears leaked from her eyes and she couldn’t help a sob leaving her lips as she heard the harsh answers to her offers to help him, but she knew that she couldn’t let him think that she was going to leave him. He’d need days of care and attention before he would be well enough to leave his bed again and she was going to be the one who gave it whether he wanted her or not. It was her job as his wife to attend to his wellbeing and she would do it to the very best of her ability.

  He grimaced and appeared to flinch from her touch. His blackened, swollen eyes, that had opened briefly, closed once again. She took her hand from his shoulder but whispered to him.

  “I won’t leave you, but I don’t know what I did wrong. Please tell me what is it that you want?”

  There was silence for a few seconds as he took in rapid, shallow breaths and she realized that he had fallen back into a troubled sleep. She slid from the bed, ready to collapse in the chair once again when she suddenly heard him whisper to himself.

  “My wife! I want my Charlotte.”

  She stopped dead and turned slowly back towards him, wondering if her ears had deceived her, but he looked more peaceful. As she stood there, her heart pounding with possibilities, her mind ran back over his previous hard words and suddenly everything became clear.

  He hadn’t wanted the harlot to touch him. He’d recoiled from the woman who had drugged him. He had been rejecting the whore’s advances not encouraging them.

  And then he’d said that he wanted his wife! He wanted her! Charlotte’s heart soared, flew upwards, and slammed against her ribs as she watched him toss and turn in his sleep.

  The fever broke a few hours later and then the shivers came upon him, violent in their force. His teeth rattled in his mouth and he thrashed the blankets from the bed with the spasms in his legs. Charlotte grew exhausted repeatedly pulling the eiderdown back over his goose pimpled torso.

  It was Coalport who had eventually helped her.

  “He needs warmth. All the blankets and the hot pans are not helping him. He needs the heat of a body next to him.” He looked at her significantly.

  Charlotte felt the blush flood her cheeks.

  “You mean that I should get in bed with him?”

  Coalport raised his eyebrows.

  “Well, I’m certainly not going to do it when he has a perfectly good wife to help him. I mean to say that I would of course help if I thought there was no other option but seeing as there is...” he tipped his head in her direction.

  Charlotte nodded.

  “Of course.” She lifted the covers and made to slide in but Coalport gave a shake of his head.

  “He needs body heat...not three layers of silk. If you can’t manage, I can ask Louise to come and help you with your dress.”

  Charlotte’s face flushed even deeper.

  “Oh!” She gave a surprised gasp but then reached up her back. Fortunately, her gown was a simple one and she pulled the laces with ease as Coalport gave her another encouraging grin before he slipped from the room.

  Geoffrey sighed as he felt warmth against his back, and he turned towards it pulling it nearer as the rattle in his head stopped at last. He took a deep breath, wincing slightly as his ribs reminded him that he wasn’t completely recovered yet.

  He held the breath a moment as conflicting scents filled his nose and smothered him with dread. Onions and...almonds? God! If he were with that whore again he’d jump out of the window and back into the damn river! Rather drown than have her revolting fingers all over him.

  He opened his eyes and flickering lamp light revealed that he was in a large, soft bed with clean sheets and curtains surrounding it. A quick glance showed him that the shadowed room was clean and spacious, a far cry from the foetid, dismal room in which he had been last detained.

  There was a jug of water and a glass on the bedside cabinet and he reached out, drinking greedily as he realized how thirsty he had become. He drank his fill before placing the glass back down and turning to see exactly where he was and how he was being kept so warm. It was only as he saw blonde hair fanned out on the pillow beside him that he struggled to move further away.

  Damn her heat, he’d rather freeze to death. He didn’t want her anywhere near him! He squinted into the half-light, desperate to catch sight of what were left of his clothes. He had to get out of there before she woke and drugged him again. His stomach roiled as he caught sight of the jug of water and he cursed himself for a fool for drinking without thought.

  The woman yawned behind him. He stilled all his movements. Maybe she wouldn’t guess that he had woken and leave him be.

  “Geoffrey? Are you awake?” A shockingly familiar voice penetrated his fogged brain and he wondered if his head was still befuddled with drugs, or if it was his mind playing tricks on him, but the woman spoke again and he turned his head towards the sweet tones that he’d thought he might never hear again. “Geoff, it’s me. You were cold and Coalport said that you needed warmth.” Charlotte’s quiet voice soothed his uneasy thoughts.

  “He did?” His voice felt raw in his throat and he swallowed hard. He felt silk soft hair move over his shoulder as she nodded. Was he still dreaming? He surely couldn’t be in bed with Charlotte.

  The same beautiful voice spoke again.

  “He said that he would have done it if you had been desperate and hadn’t a perfectly good wife to do it for you. He wasn’t being awkward or anything.” She sounded acutely embarrassed.

  Geoffrey snorted with laughter and then stopped as his ribs gave him another sharp reminder.

  “Ow! Now I know that I must be awake. No one could ever have dreamed up that.” He lay silently again as he suddenly realized that he was very warm. Far warmer than if she had lain beside him while wearing her clothes. He stretched out a tentative hand and groaned as his fingertips met velvety flesh.

  She stiffened slightly as his palm spread across her naked hip and he removed his hand quickly. He was about to apologize when she suddenly reached out and took his hand, placing it back in place and resting her own over it.

  “Charlotte...” he breathed out a sigh as he turned his whole body to face her. Huge blue eyes blinked slowly at him. His hand traced its way from the flare of her hip to the dip of her slender waist and from there up her side. He groaned as his fingertips met the swell of her breast and, with an effort of will that he never knew he possessed, he tried to remove his hand again.

  “No,” she breathed back at him, her voice a mere whisper in the shadows. “Touch me...”

  Silence surrounded them, only their own rapid breaths interrupted the quiet. There was a rustle of sheets as Geoffrey slid his hand out fro
m beneath hers. He moved to lay flat on his back and fisted both of his hands at his sides as guilt and shame covered him.

  Although she lay naked beside him, he couldn’t be sure that she knew what he had done and he couldn’t deceive her. He’d run from her, had become so drunk that he couldn’t take care of himself and although what had followed hadn’t been his fault, if she couldn’t forgive him he thought he might die from a broken heart. Gulping back his fears, he prayed to God like he had never prayed in his life before. He had to confess what he had done.

  “Charlotte...you have to know what happened. I have to tell you...You won’t...I...” A finger placed over his lips stopped his stammering as her gentle tones reassured him.

  “They drugged you. Yes, I know what happened...and I also know what didn’t.”

  He nodded and closed his eyes as the memories threatened to engulf him.

  “I swear that I never touched them, but they hoodwinked me with contaminated brandy. I’ve no idea what they put in it but I was completely at their mercy. They attempted to...I didn’t...I couldn’t...” he swallowed the revulsion and cleared his throat. “It was so awful, but I’d been such a fool and fell into their trap. There was nothing I could do to stop them. Charlotte, I...I, God I have failed you so badly...” he gave up as she suddenly placed her mouth against his and kissed him so tenderly that he wondered if it was an angel who had brushed his lips instead of the wildfire woman he knew and loved.

  His whole being reacted instantly to her touch. From being icily cold, fire suddenly raced through his body, searing him as it licked over his skin. His aching fingers stretched out, touching her as if she were made of the finest glass, skimming over her skin as he traced her shoulders, her collarbone, her throat and her face. She leaned into his hand and then kissed his palm softly.