Once he arrived home, his horse was led to the stable and he trudged up the stairs. His staff wasn’t surprised to see him enter at dawn, his schedule was often erratic.
But because he hadn’t been drinking, he noticed their averted eyes, and the way they efficiently avoided interacting with him.
His manservant waited in his room, ready to help him undress. While he guessed this was a regular duty for the man, undressing him at dawn, he didn’t particularly want any company now. Something deep inside him was unsettled. “I’m not in need of your services this morning, Montgomery. Thank you, kindly.”
Surprise was written all over Montgomery’s face as he nodded and turned to leave.
Shame stabbed at Luke’s chest. “Wait,” he called.
“Yes, my lord?” Montgomery turned back to him.
“How often do you help me undress in the wee hours of the morning?” Luke’s insides clenched as he waited for the answer.
“My lord?” Montgomery winced.
“It’s all right, man. Just answer the question.”
“Nearly every morning, sir,” Montgomery slowly and quietly answered.
A sick feeling of dread and shame settled in his stomach. What had he become? “Thank you.”
He finished undressing and lay in his bed. Looking over at the pillow next to him, he wondered what it might be like to have auburn curls trailing over the crisp white linen so that he could reach out and touch them. He pictured dancing blue eyes, sparkling with desire and intelligence, assessing him as creamy arms wrapped around his neck. Closing his own eyes, he let the fantasy wash over him. Her curves would fit perfectly against his side. He’d roll her over and kiss every inch of her glorious flesh. She’d cry his name as she shattered for him and then… Then he would hold her close. All night, she’d be pressed against him. Murmuring in her sleep, he’d hold and comfort her as he breathed in her scent.
He drifted to sleep, dreaming of Tabbie.
He woke with a start two hours later and grimaced at the empty pillow next to him. Giving himself a shake, he wondered what the bloody hell was wrong with him, dreaming of a woman so. It wasn’t the desire that had him concerned. He’d pictured all sorts of women doing an array of sordid acts. Many of them had been played out in real life. It was the second half of his fantasy that shook him to his core. He wanted to bloody hold her close all night long. He never did that with anyone.
Bathing and dressing, he headed for the club, feeling unsettled and jumpy. Dread filled him. This time it wasn’t thoughts of Tabbie but of finding another woman to touch that made him slightly ill. He only wanted to touch one woman and that scared him near to death.
He thought its walls might soothe him, but the usual feeling of calm did not come as he approached the club. He felt no joy in unlocking the door, no pleasure passing through the darkened hall.
Turning into the smoking room, he tossed himself into a recliner. Rubbing his eyes with his fingers, he tried to relax. Why was he so upset about finding a maid to tup? This was a normal occurrence for him. He must be losing his facilities wanting to be snuggled against Tabbie and not touch another female.
A drink arrived at the table on his right. It was his usual, a whiskey neat. Allowing his eyes to travel from the glass to the carrier, he took stock of the woman who had delivered it. Dark hair and luminous eyes stared back at him, a knowing smile rested on her lips. A day ago, he would have found that smile too tempting to resist. But now…it turned him cold. It was practiced, given to any handsome man who’d pay.
He wanted a woman who challenged him, who would give her love and affection to only him. No other. A woman like Tabbie. One who didn’t give her smile knowingly to every handsome fellow who passed. But he pushed these thoughts aside. Tabbie would never be his and he needed to focus on the task at hand.
Ignoring the drink, he looked at the woman. “What’s your name?”
“Mary.” Her smile broadened, her hip taking on a flirty tilt as her hand rested on it. “Who are you then?”
“You can call me Luke.” He gave her a half grin. He needed some modicum of charm. “Mary, I have a proposition for you.”
“How much?” she asked, her eyes growing hungrier. Bloody hell, had they always been so obvious?
“Wouldn’t you rather know what I’m going to ask first?” His eyebrows rose.
Shock made her eyes widen for a moment but then she recovered. “I know I don’t have anything to worry about from the likes of you.”
This woman needed to marry a man. Not him, of course. She had no sense whatsoever because if she had, she surely wouldn’t say such ridiculous things. She didn’t know him at all and there was no light of intelligence to suggest she had truly puzzled out the type of man he was. Tabbie would have eyed him with suspicion before she carefully questioned him to discover his true intentions.
He stood and whispered the plan, and her part, into her ear. To her credit, she looked rather skeptical till he mentioned the price. “I’ll pay you a hundred gold pieces for the trouble.”
Her eyes lit and her grin spread from ear to ear. “I’ll do it.” She nodded. “I can’t believe you’ll pay me that much and you don’t even really want to have me, just pretend.”
He kept the smile plastered on his face. He couldn’t believe he’d ever found women like this attractive.
Tabbie paced in the library, her slippers muffling the sound of her footsteps tapping back and forth. He was late. Again.
The ball was in full swing downstairs, a welcome to his family. Everyone would be speculating about a match between the two of them. It was best to have this entire business done quickly.
The knob rattled and she stopped her pacing and stared at the door, her hands clutched together.
The door swung open. Luke, larger than life, filled the entrance. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart beat wildly. She clutched her hands tighter to keep from crossing the room and throwing her arms about him. “You’re late.”
“My apologies, my lady. Getting our mark here in a carriage proved a lengthy journey.”
“Luke didn’t tell me it would be so far.” A woman’s voice huffed behind him.
Tabbie’s stomach dropped to her knees. The other woman had called him Luke. There was a piece of her that had wanted to believe that he had been a rake in the past but the present and future could be different. Now that she knew him, she could see a good man. A man that made her feel alive, attractive, and understood.
But his name on another woman’s lips shattered any hope she may have been harboring. It spoke of intimacy and a relationship. The present was not just about the two of them like she wanted to believe. Her time with him would always be shared with other women. How many times would his name be uttered by some other female’s lips? An emotion she barely recognized rose like bile, clogging her throat.
Her lips pressed together and she shoved a bundle of garments at him. “I’ll be back with my father in twenty minutes.” Then she made to walk out the door.
“How am I supposed to get Mary into these clothes?” he huffed, holding onto Tabbie’s arm to stop her from breezing past him.
“I am sure a man such as yourself can figure it out.” Her words held a resentment she barely recognized but she could see understanding dawning in his eyes.
“Tabbie.” His voice was soft and then he pulled her close, his lips pressing against her ear. “Don’t leave me alone with her. I’m begging you.”
The ache inside of her eased considerably and all at once; she recognized that she’d been jealous. It had never happened before. She’d never been jealous of her friends, never even experienced sibling rivalry. Not even with her little brother, Theodore, or Teddy, as the family called him. Heir to the dukedom, he had long been the favorite, but rather than be jealous, she doted on him as everyone else did.
“You’ve been alone with her. You’ll have to be alone with her in order to tu—”
“Don’t say it.” His jaw clenched.
Then he was pulling her over to the other side of the room, leaving Mary to stand in the doorway staring at them. He turned his back on Mary so that Tabbie was completely shielded from the other woman’s blatant stare. “Seven hours I spent in the carriage with her. In that time, she prattled endlessly and managed to say absolutely nothing.”
His face was scrunched as though he’d smelled something awful. But Tabbie closed her eyes. He was drawing her back in. Making her forget what she already knew about him. She needed to remind herself what type of man he really was. “Surely you could think of something else to do with her? You had seven hours and considering she climbed in a carriage with you, I am sure she is more than willing.”
He stilled, not even breathing. The only movement was the tightening of his hand around her upper arm. Finally he muttered, “Pardon?”
She didn’t open her eyes, couldn’t look at him. She would lose all resolve if she did. Instead, she barreled ahead. “You’re going to be intimate with her anyway. Why not?”
His body pressed against hers. “Spend five minutes with her and you will know why not. That woman doesn’t have a lick of sense or a grain of intelligence. Even I would not—”
“Wouldn’t you?” Jealousy was rising again. Her first meeting with Luke, at the Winthrop’s ball, he had looked right through her, focusing on Lady Ravenna instead. Coincidentally she was now Lady Winthrop but that marriage didn’t happen for a few years. That ball, the hussy had been entirely focused on the Earl of Sussex, Luke.
But the second introduction Tabbie had been given to Luke, only six months prior, he had been smitten with a truly lovely blonde who could barely keep a thought in her pretty head. “Lady Ashford does not strike me as a woman with either sense or intelligence.” Her breath hissed out.
“Open your eyes, Tabbie.” His voice commanded and once again she obeyed. His eyes were roving her face as though searching for answers. They finally locked on her and his gaze was appraising, searching, searing. “Why those two women? You brought up Ravenna last night and now Lady Ashford.” he finally asked.
“What does it matter?” She wrenched her arm from his grasp, breaking the gaze they had been locked in. She needed distance between them because her mind was too addled to think properly. Grasping her skirt, she swished away. “I will be back with my father in twenty minutes.”
She ignored the tears pricking at her eyes as she hurried past the maid, Mary. Or whoever the woman was. This had all gotten so complicated. If only he hadn’t kissed her. Or better still, it didn’t affect her. He didn’t affect her.
Finding her father was alarmingly easy. Even amongst the crush of people her father stood a head taller than most. He came stalking toward her. It turned out, he had been searching for her. “Where have you been?” he hissed.
Her hands shot to her hips. “Trying to sort out a problem you refuse to acknowledge.”
Normally he would have lectured her on speaking her thoughts but instead his lips thinned. “And what problem is that?”
“The fact that the man you want to marry me to is renowned for chasing light skirts.”
He huffed a breath. “The world is rarely fair, Tabbie. Men are beasts; their wives just don’t know it. I’ve told you more than once, you’re too smart for your own good. I meant it.”
Her mouth hung open as she gazed at her father in astonishment. “Papa, you’re not referring to yourself?” She hadn’t called him that in some time, but the conversation had thrown her off guard.
“Of course I am not. I am simply trying to make the point that with arranged marriages, it is more often the case than you might think.” He stepped closer. “I saw you both at the table last night. He understands you, Tabbie. He is handsome and well connected. You could do far worse.”
If her mouth could have dropped lower still, it surely would have. But it was unladylike to stand there gaping so she snapped it closed. It was on the tip of her tongue to insist that she could do far better. A man who was faithful to her. But arguing wouldn’t make her point and so she gestured for her father to follow. Her insides railed at having to suffer more of the feelings he seemed to provoke. Not the excitement but the jealousy and hurt that he caused. “This way.” She waved her hand and turned back to the library, praying that she’d given Luke enough time to set up the ruse.
She walked slowly, a sick dread making her legs feel leaden. Even knowing what she would likely see didn’t lesson her feelings of nausea. She would witness firsthand Luke holding another woman. Her father’s strides matched hers. “What is this about?” he demanded.
Summoning her courage, she spoke. “I know that men have discreet affairs. When you spend most social gatherings by the wall, you hear a great deal. But there is a difference between discreet and flagrant.” They had reached the library door. It had only been a quarter hour and she prayed that they were ready.
She gestured for her father to enter. She couldn’t bring herself to open the door as her stomach twisted painfully.
Grimacing at her, he turned the knob and strode confidently into the room. “Sussex,” she heard him grumble.
“Your Grace,” Luke replied. There was no hint in their voices that anything was amiss. Which was perplexing. Tabbie inched closer to the opening and grabbing the jam, peeked around the door into the room. There was no sign of Mary. Instead, Sussex sat behind her father’s desk looking at several sheets of paper. Deep down inside, relief washed over her. It was quickly replaced with confusion.
Her father turned back to her. “What is the meaning of this?”
Her mouth closed and then opened and then closed again. But try as she might, no response came out. She couldn’t very well say that she had arranged for Luke to be caught with another woman. “I thought…that is to say…I assumed that…” she stuttered out, unable to formulate a thought. What had happened to their plan?
“Lady Tabitha has a rather low opinion of me, Your Grace.” Luke cocked an eyebrow, apparently completely at ease.
“I am aware,” her father responded drily. “Why are you in my library and why does Tabbie know that fact?”
“I followed him.” Her mind finally snapped into action. Perhaps she could salvage this encounter after all. “He came in here with a maid.”
Luke glowered at her. “I confess it is true. I hoped to sneak a glass of your brandy. I thought better of it.”
Her father crossed his arms over his chest. “But you saw fit to look at my personal papers?”
Luke looked down then and Tabbie tensed. While she wanted Luke to be caught with the maid so that her father would end his pursuit of the engagement, she did not want him in trouble for anything else. “The marriage contracts.” Luke gestured to the papers before him. “Forgive me. They so intimately involved me, that I could not resist.”
Up to that moment, Tabbie had been numb, perplexed. Perhaps confused. But anger coursed through her. He had hoodwinked her while she had been attempting to trick her father. She wanted answers. But none would be had now and so, turning on her heel, she stomped out of the library.
Chapter 4
Luke strode through the ballroom, making his third circle. He was searching for that little minx, and had been unable to find her.
He needed to talk to her, immediately. Several things had taken unexpected turns this evening. For one, he couldn’t lay a finger on Mary no matter how hard he tried. That had never happened to him before.
As if that wasn’t strange enough, he’d read the marriage contract, and found it…pleasing.
A sniffling was the first indication that he was getting close, though he proceeded with caution in case it wasn’t her. But a peek through a potted fern confirmed that it was his Tabbie, sitting alone, hiding behind a plant.
He stepped around it and her eyes snapped to his as she swiped at her tears. Without missing a beat she stood. “You ruined the plan.”
“I know.” He gave a little shrug.
“Why?” she asked.
“I�
��m not entirely sure.” He gave her a small smile. “I found the idea of touching her revolting.”
“Oh,” she responded her eyes going wide. “You did choose her.”
She looked glorious in the moonlight that filtered through the bay of windows behind her. By day, she was stunning, but at night she was a moon goddess. Unable to help himself he reached for her hand and pulled her close. He kept his back to the throngs of people, the plant blocking much of their bodies so they had privacy. Her body molded to his in the most gratifying way. “The problem I seem to be having is that I don’t want to touch anyone but you.”
It was the truth. He thought his words might soften her further but they had the opposite effect. She stiffened and began to pull away. “You’ve only known me a day. Give it time. Some other lady will catch your fancy.”
His own eyes narrowed. He was sensing a theme, something simmering below the surface. “You’re correct. We’ve only known each other a day. Perhaps you have no idea what I may or may not do.”
“No, you are incorrect. I have met you on multiple occasions prior to yesterday. I know precisely how you will proceed.”
That made his head snap back. “You mean you’ve seen me at social events?”
Her face scrunched up in pain. It made his chest ache seeing her hurt like that. But he also knew he wouldn’t at all like what she was about to say. “My lord, we’ve been introduced three times, including yesterday.”
His mouth fell open and he stared as she moved back out of his arms, pressing against a window. “The other two times, you were too busy with your current infatuation to even acknowledge my presence. And while I am flattered to have made the list, I am aware that your interest is fleeting. Painfully so.”
Earl of Sussex: Wicked Regency Romance (Wicked Earls' Club) Page 3
