Chapter Twenty-Four

S eth stared down into his glass of brandy. When it had first been poured, Seth had intended to become foxed, but he had yet to take a sip.

All that he had worked for was gone.

If only he could turn back time, except he could not.

Decisions that he had made five years ago had brought him to this. Not five, but fifteen if he considered the moment his life had been irrevocably altered with the death of Amelia and he had decided to choose wealth over love.

Frances had called him a coward, and she had not been wrong.

It was safer to be alone even if lonely.

It was also the very reason he never fought the reputation of rogue in London. It kept women at a distance. As far as they were concerned, he was the spoiled second son of a duke who found his pleasure with lightskirts, brandy and gaming.

Now he was alone with nothing to show for his work and sacrifices.

Worse, he had lost Frances.

He thought she had forgiven him and that they would be what they once were.

He had wanted to marry her, but she had only been manipulating him up to the very moment she won his Emerald Garter.

Did she hate him so very much?

He had finally stopped denying how much he was in love with her and wanted Frances in his life permanently. He was ready to relinquish his bachelor state to have her by his side, but she had different plans and crushed his heart as surely as he had shattered hers five years ago.

At the sound of the door to The Emerald Garter opening, Seth looked up and framed in the doorway was the woman who had brought him down.

“Is your revenge as sweet as you had hoped it would be?” he asked.

“No.” She came forward and placed a pouch on the bar before him. “You forgot your winnings.”

He picked it up and weighed it in his hands. “Foolish of me as this is all I have left.”

It was then that he noticed another shadow at the door and stiffened. He should have locked it after he came in as nobody was about, but it hadn’t occurred to him. Not that he wanted Frances gone, and was glad she was here, no matter what the reason, but any miscreant could walk in off the streets and rob or kill them.

The figure stepped forward and Seth relaxed. “Your Grace,” he greeted.

Frances turned. “You said that you would wait in the carriage.”

“I wanted to make certain Lord Seth was here, and that no harm would come to you.”

Seth immediately stood. “No matter what may have occurred tonight, I would never harm a hair on Miss Hawthorn’s head.” He took a step toward the Duke of Ellings. “If you suggest otherwise, then we may need a separate meeting at dawn.”

“Will you be seeing her home, then?” His Grace asked.

What an odd question. Had Ellings simply been testing his intentions? “Of course I will.”

Frances gaped. “You were to wait. Tessa promised.”

“We are tired, and you need to settle on the agreement with regard to the club, winnings and everything that brought you here tonight.” He then turned and left, closing the door behind him.

Seth crossed to the entrance and locked the door then closed the shutters on the few windows so that nobody would know that anyone was in here tonight. Not that he expected anyone to pass on the street, but he would not want Frances’ reputation harmed if someone were to walk by and see her here and alone with him.

He then retreated to the bar and poured her a glass of brandy.

The entire time she stood silently and watched.

He set the glass on the bar, then lifted his own and took a drink while he waited for her to speak. Only then would he know her real reasons for being here rather than to simply return the winnings he had left behind.

“I set out to take from you the one thing that had always mattered more to you than me,” she began, which confirmed his suspicions.

“But that was unfair. Just because I loved you beyond anything or anyone else did not mean you were required to feel the same for me. In my pain and anger, I came to resent this place. I blamed your dreams for keeping you from me. It is not the club’s fault that you could not love me enough five years ago. Therefore, I return it to you.”

“I am not upset that I lost the club, Franny,” he said quietly. “I am sorry that I lost winning your garter.” It was the truth. This club meant nothing to him any longer. It had cost him Frances five years ago, and he lost her tonight because of it and he had been a fool to think wealth was all he needed.

“My virtue, you mean.”

He looked up into her brown eyes. “No. I lost you.”

Frances’ heart hammered in her chest, but she was too afraid to hope.

“You do not hate me for what I did?”

He shook his head. “I wish I could, but it is impossible to hate you Franny.”

“I have wanted to hate you too,” she admitted in a whisper. “I tried. I really did after I heard all those awful things about you when I first came to London. I could not reconcile the reputation with the Seth I knew. I finally determined that you had lied to me the entire time in Laswell, but still, I could not hate you.”

Seth set his glass on the bar and then came around it and took her hand. “Laswell was never a lie. What we shared in that cottage was never a lie. In fact, it was the only thing that was ever truly real in my life because I was free with you. Free to be honest with not only you but with myself.”

“Except, you were still afraid,” she reminded him.

“Yes. A fear I held onto for ten years. The fear of experiencing a pain from loss so deep that I did not want to continue to live.”

Frances squeezed his hand, recalling how deeply he had mourned Amelia.

“All I did was deny myself happiness, as you predicted.”

“You have a fine club,” she reminded him.

“No, I do not. At least, not any longer.”

“Yes, you do,” Frances insisted. “That is why I am here. Not just to return the money but tell you that I am not taking the club.”

“You won the club, Franny. I wagered it in a game of chance and lost.”

“I cheated!”

Seth chuckled. “I was a fool for not noticing.” He glanced down at her breasts. “I let that blasted emerald distract me.”

Her face heated as hope surged.

Was there a chance…

Frances closed the thought off before it could completely form because hope always led to disappointment.

He put her glass of brandy on the bar then took her hand. “Let me show you around. You will want to become familiar with the place before tomorrow night. Then I will also introduce you to my staff.”

“Have you not listened to me?” she demanded as he pulled her down a darkened corridor. “I am not taking your club.”

“It is too late to change your mind, Frances. The deed has already been signed over to you.”

He led her into a small, neat office. On one side of the room was a dark fireplace and on the other, a tidy desk with two chairs in front of it and one behind. There were no stacks of unopened missives or ledger books on this desk. It was clean and without clutter except for one document in the center.

Seth crossed the desk and picked it up. “I signed it as soon as I returned. I am not certain if it is legal, but I will ask my man of business to prepare the proper documents if necessary.”

“I am not taking your club!”

“Let me show you the rest,” Seth said as if he had not heard her.

Why was he ignoring her?

Frances blew out a sigh and followed Seth as he showed her the kitchens, gaming rooms and then returned to the corridor and up a flight of stairs.

“There are times that I work late and am simply too tired to return home, so I will sleep here.”

He pushed the door open to reveal a neat bedchamber with a very large bed against the far wall.

Frances sucked in a breath.

Seth again took her hand and led her into the room. “I can assure you that the bed is quite comfortable if you find yourself in need of sleep, or a nap, or simply rest.”

At his low tone, her body heated. She had never been in a chamber that also had a bed with Seth before. It loomed large and a part of her wished she would have just let him win her garter so that she could finally experience what it would be like to be with him.

“This is still your club, Seth,” she said again.

“No, Franny, it is yours.” He placed a finger beneath her chin, raising it slightly then kissed her. “I no longer want it.”

She pulled back and blinked at him. “You do not?” What game was he playing? “This is your dream. It is what you always wanted.”

“I find that I want something else.”

Did she dare hope… “If I take your club, then what will you do?”

“I had hoped you would hire me. I will need an income.”

Frances could not comprehend owning The Emerald Garter while Seth worked for her.

She had thought that when she returned his club that he would be grateful and then they would part ways, hopefully as friends, if not lovers. But most of all, Frances had hoped that he did not hate her. What he was proposing was not at all what she had expected.

“What else is it that you want?” Frances asked because she had to know.

“I thought to marry.” He slipped his arms about her waist. “If she will have me, but I cannot ask her until I am certain that I will be gainfully employed.”

Frances had once hoped that he would marry her, but because he never said the words, just as he still had not proposed to her, she would not make the same mistake of assuming who he meant.

“What if your employer decided to make you a partner instead? Would your future wife be jealous?”

“No,” he answered. “She would be assured of my heart, and my love, and know that I could never love another.”

The pounding of Frances’ heart was almost painful as she waited and wondered if he would say the words.

“Franny, there was a time when I was foolish and afraid.”

“I recall,” she answered.

“Never again will I put the club, or anything else, before the only woman I have ever loved. I gladly give you The Emerald Garter as it has no meaning without you in my life.”

He leaned forward and kissed her again.

“I am but a future employee of yours, and this may be rather presumptuous given my new position, but Frances Hawthorn, would you be my wife?”

Tears sprang to her eyes as she bit her bottom lip, afraid to answer and afraid she had not heard him correctly. This is what she had wanted five years ago.

Was it even real?

“Your silence scares me. Have I truly lost you? Is there any hope that I can win you again.”

Frances nearly chuckled at the earnestness in his voice and instead of answering him in words, she bent and lifted her skirts high enough to reveal her emerald garter. “Only if you accept what should have been your winnings.”