Rogue in Red Velvet

by Lynne Connolly

  She noticed the subtle but delicious scent of citrus and musk. On the whole, she preferred Alex’s scent. Alex smelled of male arousal and sandalwood. It aroused her just thinking of it.

  Julius turned and left.

  Alex gazed down at her, smiling. “I want the wedding as soon as possible. Do you have anything planned for tomorrow?”

  She gaped at him for a bare moment.

  Her godfather took that moment to speak. “It might have escaped your notice but tomorrow is Sunday, so you can’t marry then. But you can sign the contract on Monday, if I call on my man of business. I had one drawn up for Connie’s marriage to—” He cleared his throat. “It was a fair and reasonable contract and we may, if you like, use it as the basis for the new one.”

  Alex gave a nod. “Then that’s what we do.” He spared Lord Downholland a glance. “Without that morality clause. I want Connie cared for and sure she’s going into the marriage with all her rights protected. We’ll marry on Tuesday.”

  “Sir, the banns!” Lord Downholland protested.

  “I have a special license. I obtained it when I arrived in London from the visit to your house. It has Connie’s name on it. My other task for tomorrow is to arrange for the ceremony.”

  “Alex, are you…” Connie tried, overwhelmed by the speed of events and her own emotions.

  “Perfectly.” He raised her hand and kissed it. “I should also inform my father. I told him of my intention to court you, so this won’t come as a surprise to him.”

  “He’s on his way,” said Lady Downholland as she entered the room. “Word is already spreading but I sent a messenger to the house he is visiting tonight.” She swept forward and enclosed an overwhelmed Connie into her soft, scented embrace.

  Connie didn’t think she could take much more. Her head spun with recent developments. She’d reconciled herself to going home to Cumbria, managing without Jasper and most of all without Alex. Now she doubted she’d see her house in some time, or, from the way Alex was looking at her, anywhere but the inside of a bedchamber. She didn’t feel sorry about that part at all.

  “We should steel ourselves for the congratulations of our friends and acquaintances.” Alex lifted his arm, an invitation for her to rest the tips of her fingers on his forearm. Instead, she put her palm over it and squeezed a little. She needed proper support and she needed to know that he was under all that magnificence. Some connection with reality. “Shall we face the terrifying marauding hordes?”

  The thought of comparing polite society to ancient warrior tribes made her smile and she was still smiling when he took her back into the main room. Although they were not so vulgar as to give them a round of applause, Connie felt the approbation of several people, mostly the ones without eligible females in their immediate family. Several congratulated them as they moved through the crowd, Connie inching a little closer to Alex as they passed through to the supper room and Alex found cool glasses of wine for them both. In that short journey, Connie began to grow aware of what it would be like to not only be the wife of Alex as Lady Ripley but in time, the Countess of Leverton. She didn’t know how she felt about any of it but decided to give herself time, not to accept it all so quickly.

  Except that on Tuesday, dreams would become reality.

  Julius appeared, a plateful of delicacies in his hand. “I ordered this made up for you.”

  Immediately Alex led her to a table and made her sit. “I should have thought of that.”

  Julius grinned. “I think I know why you didn’t.” He reached out and when Alex held out his hand, Julius dropped a key into it. “I don’t use it much these days. It’s yours, if you wish. Although I know you don’t care about discretion, I think Connie might.”

  “Thank you, Julius.”

  “We’ll expect you when we see you, Connie.” He bent and brushed his lips over her hand. “Welcome to our distinctly odd and reprehensible family.”

  “Thank you.”

  Alex glanced at her and leaned closer to speak to her alone. “Would you stay with me tonight?” Considering the measure of interest shown in them by the other people in the room he took a considerable risk even saying that much.

  Her mind went back to those blissful hours in the small room in the house in Covent Garden. She could be true to her upbringing or true to her heart. “Yes.”

  “Then we leave soon.”

  “Yes.” She wanted to bury her face in the welcome darkness of his coat, forget everything else except him.

  She applied herself to the food Julius had thoughtfully acquired for her and she was just finishing the last tiny pastry when Alex, who had been conversing quietly with Julius said, “Ah, father.”

  She found a napkin and touched it to her mouth before glancing up. She’d never thought of Lord Leverton as formidable before, but she did now.

  Clad in the society wear of elaborate, flared coat, embroidered waistcoat, breeches and clocked stockings, Lord Leverton looked like what he was, an aristocrat, born of aristocrats, sure of his place in the world.

  All things that Connie was not. She stumbled when she got to her feet and Alex was quick to cup her elbow and steady her.

  “Tomorrow, Ripley, I want to speak to you.”

  “Yes, sir. Mrs. Rattigan is staying here tonight as the guest of the duke and duchess. She is tired by the day’s events and she needs to rest.”

  Leverton nodded. “I see. Very well.”

  “You might want to attend the Downhollands’ house at noon on Monday, sir. We’re signing the contract. We’ve agreed to marry on Tuesday.”

  Chapter 20

  It appeared someone had apprised the Duchess of Kirkburton of Connie’s presence in her house that night. She also knew about Alex. The subtle way the lady glanced at him after she said she was delighted to offer the shelter of her humble house to a weary guest—all said in the iciest tones—told her that. A maid took her to the room and she wasn’t entirely surprised to find Saxton there.

  She’d brought Connie’s nightclothes, her dressing case and a change of clothes for the morning. “They said to bring them here, ma’am. I’m to sleep upstairs.” She usually slept in a room close to Connie’s but this wasn’t an ordinary London town house. This was more like a grand country house somehow transposed to the city. A very grand house.

  On her journey here from the main state rooms Connie had glimpsed the gleam of gold in rooms quiet and unoccupied and the glitter of crystal. This room was just as grand, dominated by a huge four-poster, made of old wood heavily carved and gilded. The rest of the furniture was to match, with heavy red velvet drapery. Worse, it was all spotless, even under the bed. That meant the duchess was a hard mistress, something Connie had suspected once she’d met the diminutive virago.

  Saxton divested Connie of her evening clothes, helped her into her night-rail and a loose robe and washed the powder out of her hair and the cosmetics from her face.

  Feeling better, more like herself, Connie leaned back in the chair before the dressing table, with its formidable array of crystal bottles and silver brushes and pots and closed her eyes to allow Saxton to brush her hair and braid it ready for the night. She still wondered what she was doing here and if he would come but at least she had some respite to try to make sense of her life. “You’re a good lady’s maid, Saxton.”

  “Thank you,” said a warm male voice she knew well.

  She jerked forward, yanking the brush from her hair. “Where’s my maid?”

  “If you want her back, I’ll call her for you.” His eyes gleamed.

  “She won’t gossip.”

  “I know that but it went against the grain for me to creep in once she’d gone and you were in bed. You’re mine, Connie. After Tuesday I’ll have the right to say so publicly.”

  A thrill passed right through her but she suppressed it and tried to think of the practical. “You meant it? Tuesday?”

  “Assuredly. I’d do it on Monday if I could but I want to ensure it’s all done as it s
hould be. But tonight, sweetheart, belongs to us.”

  “What would her grace say if she caught us?” Despite her determination to face this business like the lady she would shortly become, Connie quailed at the thought of it.

  “That’s the beauty of this room,” Alex said. “When Julius lived here, he chose this room for a reason. Most of the rooms in this house communicate in a way that the maids can go from room to room in the morning and clean more efficiently. But this room is at the corner of the house and it only has three doors. The jib door, which I’ll lock, the outer door, which I’ll also lock and the powder room door, which is a dead end. No way in except through this room. Nobody comes in here, except the people I say and you’ll be perfectly safe. With me.”

  He leaned forward and put the brush down on the table, the click sounding unnaturally loud in the quiet room. He swept her hair aside and touched his lips to her neck. “Or you can sleep alone and I won’t come near you again until Tuesday night. If that’s what you want.” He straightened. “You see? I’m doing my best to give you the choices you ask for.”

  That surprised a laugh out of her. “You’ll kill yourself if you keep on doing it.” She got to her feet and turned to face him, one hand on the back of the chair. “Alex, be yourself. It’s you I want. We might argue and I’m sure we will but I don’t want you to be—careful—around me.”

  He stiffened, gazed at her. Anyone seeing him now wouldn’t recognize him as the indolent aristocrat. Every line of his body was taut and tense, his eyes wild with need, the same need she was experiencing. “Beware of what you ask for. I have never felt so powerfully for any woman before in my life.”

  “I am. I want you. All of you.”

  He remained very, very still, so much that she knew he was fighting not to reach out for her, because when he did, there wouldn’t be any more talking for a long time. “You’ll get it, Connie my love.”

  Something took hold of her heart and her breath stuttered. This wasn’t a figure of speech or a casual endearment. “Wh-what did you say?”

  “You heard but just in case, I’ll make it clear.” He gazed into her eyes, sincerity patently obvious. “I love you, Connie. I started to fall in love with you the moment I saw you. Every day since has only confirmed it.” He grinned, his body more relaxed now. “You have to forgive me, sweetheart but I doubted what my heart was telling me. I didn’t believe that it could be possible. But it is and now I don’t want to wait to marry you a moment longer than I have to.” He reached out and caught her hand, twining his fingers between hers. “You don’t have to say anything in return. I want the truth, Connie, no more. No lies, ever, between us.”

  “Not even a tiny lie about a gown costing half what it actually did?” She knew her mother had done that to her father a time or two. He’d recounted it to her fondly, trying to remind her that her late mother wasn’t a saint but a human being.

  He grinned, gave her the bright, devil-may-care smile that lit up a room for her. “I might allow that. Neither of us are saints. But the truth, the honesty of our feelings. That I want clear.”

  “So if I confess I love you, will you believe me?”

  “I’ll believe you and be glad to.”

  She gathered all her courage together, feeling the tension tighten. She’d told one other man that and been proved wrong. This time she was certain. “I love you, Alex. Though perhaps not as long as you’ve loved me. It was our first kiss that made me realize what life without you would mean.”

  He tugged her hand, urging her closer. “What would it mean?”

  “Boredom. Toleration, or so I thought at the time. When Jasper asked to visit my room but went to London instead, all I felt was relief. That was when I knew I didn’t want to marry him, but I had committed myself by then so I could say nothing.”

  Alex’s dark eyes gleamed with incipient ire but he cupped her cheek gently. “I wouldn’t have allowed it. I felt jealous when I had no right to be. When I heard he’d become engaged to Miss Stobart, I was glad and angry. It meant she wasn’t pursuing me anymore, but I couldn’t wish the fate of Jasper Dankworth on anyone. My father isn’t exactly pleased I’m marrying you but he can do nothing about it and I want you, Connie. For my own, to have the right to care for and love.”

  He lowered his head and kissed her. Gently at first, testing her lips, his tongue touching her, exploring. She opened her mouth and he slipped in. Not passionately, so much as lovingly. Appropriate for their first kiss after confessing their love.

  She knew what he meant. There was no doubt possible between them. She could ask herself why, try to reason but it wouldn’t work because it just was. It existed.

  He finished the kiss and gazed at her, his eyes adoring now. “So what do you want for tonight, my love? Would you prefer to spend three nights on your own, waiting for our wedding night?”

  She shook her head. “How foolish that would be, when I have you now. Will we have separate rooms after we’re married? Will you behave like a polite husband and ask permission to visit my chamber?”

  “No.” He grinned. “If you’re expecting that, you’re in for a disappointment, my lady. Separate rooms, yes, because you will have a mountain of gowns and jewelry to store and care for. You’ll have levées, when the petitioners and dressmakers will visit you in your chamber.” He touched his lips to hers and smiled tenderly. “It’s not compulsory. At least, the levée part isn’t. The gowns and the jewels I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with. But there’s no reason we can’t spend every night in each other’s arms.”

  He put her away a little and touched the brooch, which she’d pinned to her robe after Saxton had helped her to undress. “This gave me hope that you’d forgiven me. But we can dispose of it for the time being, can’t we?”

  Careful not to let the pin prick her, he unfastened the brooch and laid it on the dressing table behind them. Her robe was easily dispensed with, as it fastened only with a couple of toggled frogs at her neck and a sash at her waist. That left her in her virginal white night-rail.

  He undid the buttons at her neck and cuffs and pulled it over her head. She only moved to lift her arms. Her hair, still unbound, fell in a cascade around her shoulders and halfway down her back.

  “You know you’re beautiful.” He watched her, his cheekbones tinged with pink, his eyes gleaming with desire.

  She shook her head. “Not to everyone. But that I am to you is more than enough.”

  “I’ll have the world declare you a beauty. They’ll all see what I do.” He paused, touched the tip of her nipple, which beaded at his command. “Not quite all. This sight is mine and mine alone.” His expression turned fierce. She loved that about him that he didn’t hide what he was feeling in front of her, as he did to the rest of the world.

  She was naked. He was not. She didn’t understand why that made her feel powerful, except, perhaps, that he was letting her know how much her nudity affected him. Always a modest woman, wonder filled her when she realized she wanted to show him her body, to give him the pleasure he so obviously took from her.

  He took her hand once more and led her to the high bed. “Get in, sweetheart. I’ll join you in a moment.”

  A small set of steps stood by the side of the old-fashioned bed and she climbed in, pushing down the elaborate coverlet, the blankets and the top sheet. They might need them later but not now. She lay on her side, her cheek propped on her hand, and watched him undress.

  He pulled off his dress wig and dropped it on the post of the chair in front of the dressing table. Then he stripped off his neckcloth, winding it around his hands and pulling it taut before smiling at her. “Maybe one day—” he broke off. “What is it?” He tossed the neckcloth to the floor and would have crossed the room to her but she shook her head.

  “It doesn’t matter. It reminded me of something long ago. Don’t ask me now, Alex, please. I’ll tell you but not now.”

  He stared at her, then gave an abrupt nod. “We will speak of it. But, as yo
u say, not now. Because now I want to show you how much I love you. Forget everything else but me, everyone else but me. Because in a way we are starting afresh, are we not? I’ve never asked anyone to marry me before and—I’ve never loved anyone like this before.”

  As he spoke, he removed his heavy evening coat and then his waistcoat, before dragging his shirt over his head and attending to the diamond buckles at his knees, stockings and shoes. His underwear came off with his breeches and then he was as naked as she, his erection rising eagerly to meet her. It bobbed as he approached the bed, climbed the steps and joined her.

  His warmth and strength overwhelmed her. If she wanted to, she could melt against him and let him take control but she wanted to show him her love, as he said he wanted to show her.

  He rolled her on to her back and she opened her legs to let him kneel between them. He gazed down at her. “If this is the only sight I’m granted for the rest of my life, I’ll die happy.”

  Threading his fingers through her hair, he tugged it gently so it lay across the pillow. “Like a skein of gold. I love that you wear it unpowdered but you look marvelous with it powdered, too. I never expected that. Very dignified, my lady.” He paused. “My lady. The more I say it, the more I like the sound of it.”

  “I am.” She reached up and he turned his head, pressed a kiss into the palm. “As you’re my lord. My love.”

  A rush of heat enveloped her as she said it and he bent his head and kissed her. This kiss had less to do with emotion, more of passion. He tasted her, then pushed into her mouth, tasting and exploring, as if he’d never done it before.

  She’d fallen in love with him after he’d kissed her for the first time. She’d fall a little bit deeper every time his lips touched hers. Which meant she was already deep and the end of the journey was fathomless, because she intended to keep kissing him for the rest of her life.

  He drew away after a long time and gazed at her, his eyes glazed with desire. Lifting her hand, she threaded her fingers through the short strands of his hair. “I love you like this, knowing that I see you at your most intimate.”