Happily Bedded Bliss: The Rakes of Cavendish Square

by Tracy Anne Warren

  Suddenly he looked up, his eyes fierce and as luminous as molten gold. “I had no idea that you’d done this. How did you manage?”

  “Oh, it was when I told you I was hat shopping for Mallory. I bought this then.”

  He rubbed a thumb over the back, a fleeting shadow of remembrance darkening his face.

  She remembered that day too and the way he’d changed so drastically after meeting with his friend, though she still did not know why.

  “It’s only a trifle,” she began, “so I’ll understand if you do not like it. We can look for something else tomorrow or—”

  Before she could say another word, she was locked in his arms, her ribs aching slightly from the tight embrace. “No, I don’t want anything else. This is perfect. No one has ever—” He broke off.

  She reached up and touched his cheek, a layer of evening bristle already roughening his skin. “No one has ever what?”

  But he only shook his head, his throat working as he swallowed.

  And she understood. No one had ever bought him anything simply because he liked it. No one had ever given him a gift meant exclusively to please and which demanded nothing of him in return. What a sad childhood he must have known. What an emotionally isolated life he must have spent since.

  Very carefully, he put the watch back in its box and set it on the table. Taking her hand, he drew her to her feet and led her into her bedroom, where the room was lit by only the fire.

  Slowly, tenderly, he undressed her, saving the ribbon in her hair for last. She helped him undress next, sliding his coat and shirt from his shoulders and arms, pulling off his trousers, shoes and stockings.

  He pulled back the covers and they sank together onto the bed, kissing and caressing as if the night would last forever and they had no reason to rush. She sighed at his gentleness and moaned from his strength, sure in those moments that he must love her, even if he could not yet say the words.

  Afterward, he pulled her to him just when she would normally have rolled away, twining her in his arms in a way that left her no room to escape. He didn’t ask if she had any objections to his staying tonight, just cupped his hand around one of her breasts in a gesture of blatant possession and closed his eyes to sleep.

  But she had no complaints, her heart warm and hopeful locked inside his embrace. Snuggling closer, she closed her eyes as well and smiled.

  Chapter 25

  She and Gabriel didn’t speak again about everything that had happened on Christmas, but their relationship changed from that day forward.

  He slept with her each night, and although they still maintained separate schedules during the day, there were also times when he accompanied her on one of her outings. He’d even been willing to provide his opinion on new rugs and draperies for his bedchamber at Ten Elms.

  With winter upon them, they often stayed inside, where she used the easel and paints he had bought her. She began with a couple of small studies of the cats and dogs, then moved on to a grander piece with Gabriel as the subject. Despite his teasing complaints at having to wear clothes in this painting, he proved to be a good model, willing to sit quietly as he posed for the portrait.

  “You need a painting done of you as the viscount,” she remarked one afternoon. “I couldn’t help but notice that there isn’t one in the gallery, either here or at Ten Elms.”

  “A wise choice on my part, it would seem, since my uncle would surely have had it burned during one of his clandestine visits to the estate.”

  Esme had laughed at the time, but sadly she wasn’t sure he was wrong.

  Lawrence returned to his town house next door in mid-January and began joining them for dinner at least twice a week. And in February, Leo and Thalia and Drake, Sebastianne and little August came back to the city. The seven of them made a merry group on those evenings when all of the adults dined together at one of their respective homes, and Esme delighted in doting on August, who was already showing signs of being every bit as smart as his father.

  At Esme’s request, Sebastianne and Thalia offered their opinions and lent their expertise in her efforts to refurbish not only Ten Elms, but Landsdowne House as well.

  “The rooms are all tastefully done but rather masculine,” Thalia commented one gray February afternoon. “There’s nothing of you here, Esme. It needs your woman’s touch.”

  Sebastianne had agreed. “Precisely, starting with finding new homes for some of Gabriel’s more lurid paintings. We French take a far more mature view of sex and nudity than you English, so were it up to me, I would leave them. But I fear if any respectable English ladies visit the town house, they just might be overwhelmed by the sight and faint dead away.”

  “Hmm, you are right. Still, it might almost be worth the uproar just to see the reaction.” Esme grinned.

  “How true,” Sebastianne agreed, while Thalia smiled, shook her head and joined in their laughter.

  Still, Esme hesitated, wondering if Gabriel would object. But when she broached the subject, he surprised her.

  “They’ve stayed up far longer than I ever imagined they would now that you’re in residence,” he said. “Move whichever works you think might shock your female friends and acquaintances who will surely come to call.”

  With Pike’s help, she relocated a couple of the more prominently displayed pieces to private areas of the house. But she left the Boucher in the library. Ladies weren’t likely to venture in there, and besides, she liked the painting; it made her smile every time she went in the room.

  As March arrived, the temperatures began to moderate, tiny buds formed on the trees, grass began to green, and into the city came an influx of the Ton, returning from their country estates in anticipation of the new Season.

  Esme exchanged frequent letters with all her immediate family, and so knew not to expect any of the rest of them in Town anytime soon. With so many young children between them, Edward, Claire, Cade, Meg, Jack, Grace, Adam and Mallory had all decided that it was far easier to stay at their respective estates rather than moving their families to London for a few weeks. Everyone, they agreed, would meet in late summer at Braebourne for a nice long visit.

  Neither Esme nor Gabriel had plans to fully participate in the Season either, but invitations began to arrive at the house, along with an occasional caller. A few were genuine friends, whom she and Gabriel welcomed gladly. But others dropped by out of curiosity, eager to meet the sinfully infamous Lord Northcote and his equally notorious new wife.

  To Esme’s consternation, gossip about their hasty marriage and the naughty pictorial reason for it continued to circulate. But the more she and Gabriel were seen together around Town, the less anyone continued to pay attention, exactly as she had once predicted.

  Actually, had it not been for that, she would likely have gone back to Ten Elms, particularly since there were so many new improvements taking place at the house that she longed to see. But if she left now, she wasn’t completely certain Gabriel would accompany her, and she was afraid to push the issue and find out for sure.

  For in spite of their new closeness and the fact that he seemed to relish any outward expressions of her love, he never expressed the sentiment himself. Even now, she still did not truly know what he felt for her.

  Oh, he liked her. Of that she had not the least bit of doubt. But love . . .

  It was a hope she continued to hold in her heart, waiting patiently for the day he would kiss her and say, I love you too.

  So for the time being she was resigned to staying in Town and taking part in at least some of the activities of the Season. Which meant clothes shopping with Sebastianne, Thalia and Claire, who had decided to come up to Town after all, but only for a week.

  “Edward has business with the Lords, so I thought I would come along,” Claire said cheerfully, as they stood in the modiste’s shop a day after her and Edward’s arrival. “Oh, it is so good
to see you. You look wonderful, by the way. I can tell marriage suits you, or should I say your husband suits you. I am glad it has turned out to be a happy match, after all.”

  Esme nodded, feeling oddly and unaccountably shy. “What makes you so sure?”

  Claire arched a pale eyebrow. “Anyone can tell. They have only to look at the pair of you. Gabriel could barely keep his eyes off you today when we all came to collect you. It did my heart good to see, I must confess.”

  Claire had turned away then to offer an opinion on a length of material Thalia was considering. But Esme didn’t move. Hugging the comment to herself, she prayed that Claire was right.

  • • •

  A week later, Gabriel and Esme attended a ball together, her very first as Viscountess Northcote. It was a smaller affair, since the Season had not yet officially begun, but exactly the kind of party best suited for her introduction into Society as his wife.

  The do was being hosted by an old university friend of his, Lord Cooper, a man who luckily had never done anything bad enough to be painted with the same black brush that tarnished Gabriel’s own less than savory reputation.

  In fact, since Esme’s arrival in London, he had been careful not to bring her into company with the more hardened members of his old crowd, a set known for their licentiousness and sin. They were an often crude and tawdry bunch on the whole, and he wanted her to have nothing whatsoever to do with them. He used to take immense pleasure in flouting Society’s rules—the more unsavory the act, the better, he’d always said. But now that he had Esme to consider, he found himself unwilling to do anything that might embarrass her or besmirch her reputation. And so, over the winter, he’d begun turning down invitations to join his former friends in one sort of revelry or another. Much to their astonished disbelief, he was no longer interested in their sordid amusements, and had recently vowed to cultivate—or recultivate—a new group of friends. Attending the ball of Lord Cooper and his wife was just such an attempt, and when he came face-to-face with his old friend, he found himself genuinely happy to see him.

  “Thank you for having us,” Gabriel said as Esme spoke animatedly with Lady Cooper.

  “Of course. It is our pleasure.” Cooper inclined his head. “I was glad to see you at the club the other day. It has been too long since we had a chance to sit and talk.”

  “Indeed, it has.”

  Cooper’s eyes strayed toward Esme. “I can see what has been holding your attention of late. Your new bride is quite exquisite. I am happy for you both.”

  Gabriel watched Esme as well and agreed. Esme was exquisite, not only in beauty but in mind and spirit too. Rather than getting over her as he’d once planned, he found himself more ensnared than ever. But it wasn’t just the passion that continued to burn between them; he enjoyed her company too.

  To his surprise, he realized that he found as much pleasure and contentment sitting with her, reading or talking in front of the fire on a cold winter’s night, as he ever had indulging in wild parties and excesses. Were he being strictly honest, he supposed he’d used those pursuits to blunt his pain and fill the voids in his life. But now that he had Esme, the old hurts didn’t seem to trouble him so much anymore.

  She loved him; she told him so nearly every day, usually at his urging, since he had an almost endless need to hear her say the words. Pathetic, he knew, especially for a man who’d once professed not to believe in such emotions. But she and her love warmed him from the inside out, and he could no longer do without either one.

  And what of me? Do I love her?

  He swallowed, the truth staring him in the face no matter how much he wanted to deny it.

  Yes, God help me, I do—even if part of him still feared everything it might mean. But like a drowning man, he supposed he was finally surrendering to the inevitability of his fate.

  He met Cooper’s gaze again, the other man’s eyes twinkling with sympathetic amusement.

  “Not a word,” Gabriel warned, annoyed to realize that everyone he encountered seemed to recognize the emotion he felt long before he was able to see it himself.

  But Cooper only laughed. “I have to admit it’s rather refreshing to see the mighty fall, but not to worry—your secret is safe with me.”

  • • •

  “This is lovely,” Esme murmured nearly an hour later as she and Gabriel danced a second set together—a waltz this time, to her delight. “I could dance with you all night, but I suppose we ought to separate for a little while lest everyone begin remarking about how gauche we are for being in each other’s pockets.”

  He spun her in a circle. “Let them remark. They’re all talking about us anyway.”

  “Are they?” Surreptitiously, she glanced around and discovered he was right. People were watching them, some with speculation, others with disapproval and even envy. “Even so, we’re supposed to be lessening the talk, not increasing it.”

  The dance ended. Arm in arm, they left the dance floor.

  “Go join the men for a bit,” she encouraged. “I’m sure there must be a card or billiards game taking place somewhere in the house.”

  “So you want me to gamble?”

  “Of course, so long as you don’t lose,” she said teasingly.

  He laughed.

  Leaning up on her toes, she kissed his cheek. “Come collect me for supper.”

  “Aren’t you worried it will invite more comment if I take you in to supper?”

  “I don’t want to eat with someone else. I want to be with you.”

  His gold eyes turned molten, and for a few seconds she thought he might actually kiss her right there in front of everyone at the ball. Leaning close, he put his mouth against her ear. “If you aren’t careful, I just might carry you off to a secluded spot and have my wicked way with you. But in deference to the occasion, I shall strive to be good. For now.”

  Her pulse hurried faster. “Go on, before I change my mind.” She laid a gloved hand on his shoulder and pushed. He didn’t budge so much as an inch.

  Chuckling, he nipped her earlobe, then sauntered away toward the card room.

  As soon as he was gone, she wished him back. The few people she knew were very casual acquaintances and the rest strangers. None of her family were in attendance.

  Young August was down with a cold, so Sebastianne and Drake had stayed home to nurse him. Edward and Claire had gone back to Braebourne, while Leo and Thalia were at Brightvale again. And Lawrence was busy working on a legal case and could not be drawn away.

  She was about to walk across the ballroom to join the matrons who’d arranged themselves on a nearby row of chairs, when a man stepped into her path. Glancing upward, she looked into a familiar pair of eyes.

  “Lord Eversley.”

  “Lady Esme, I thought it was you.” He made her an elegant bow.

  She curtsied back.

  “Although it is Lady Northcote now, is it not?” he said.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Allow me to offer you my best wishes on your marriage.”

  “Thank you.”

  They stood awkwardly for a moment.

  “I—”

  “How—”

  They spoke at the same instant, their words overlapping. They both laughed, awkwardly again.

  “You were saying?” she began.

  “No, please, you first.”

  “Oh, nothing important. I was only going to remark that we have not seen each other in quite some time.”

  His smile fell away. “No, not since last summer, at Braebourne. I was not able . . . that is, I . . . my dear lady, you must allow me to offer you my sincerest apology.”

  “Apology?” Her forehead creased in genuine puzzlement. “Why, whatever for?”

  “For my behavior after that evening. For the way I ran off without even bidding you a farewell. For not stay
ing long enough to allow you to offer an explanation for something which I have since come to realize was entirely innocent on your part.”

  “Oh, not entirely innocent, Lord Eversley,” she said with a faint chuckle. “I did draw Lord Northcote, after all. I have an impetuous streak, you see, that sometimes leads me into all sorts of dire predicaments. I am sure you were shocked, and justifiably so.”

  “I was, I confess, but my behavior was still inexcusable. I ought to have stayed. It would have been the gentlemanly thing to do. You probably wish you need have nothing more to do with me.”

  “Not at all. We were always friends, were we not? And everything has worked out well in the end.”

  “Has it?” He frowned, his eyes moving quickly in the direction of the gaming rooms before moving back to hers. “Forgive my impertinence, but are you happy?”

  “I am, yes.” She smiled softly, her thoughts drifting to her husband. “Very happy.”

  He studied her, then relaxed, his shoulders visibly easing. “I have worried over the matter, you know, fearing that you felt you had no other choice.”

  Actually, at the time, she had felt that she did not have any other choice but to marry Gabriel or be ruined. But as she had just told Eversley, everything had worked out well in the end. Worked out as it was surely meant to be.

  “I love my husband, Lord Eversley. Truly, trouble yourself no more on the subject.”

  Suddenly, he smiled. “You have always been so generous of spirit, Lady Esme. I mean, Lady Northcote. I hope that you might be generous again and say we may continue to be friends.”

  “I should like nothing better.”

  They shared another companionable smile.

  “Only look, a new set is forming. May I have the honor of this next dance?” he asked.

  “Oh, I . . .” What excuse could she possibly give? Then again, why should she and Lord Eversley not dance? The awkwardness was past. It was time to turn over a new leaf. “Yes, thank you. I would be delighted.”