Chapter Twenty

October 29, 1812

"And there you have it," declared George triumphantly. "Indisputably, and most definitely, the winner!"

With a great smile, he threw down his cards.

John Chance, Marquess of Aylesbury, groaned. "You mean to tell me you weren't bluffing the whole time?"

"I knew he wasn't bluffing," said William Chance, Duke of Cothrom, the corner of his lips tilted up. "I just didn't have the cards to call him out."

"How on earth could you tell he was not bluffing?" asked the Duchess of Cothrom with sparkling eyes. "As far as I can tell, the man wouldn't know how to bluff."

Their combined laughter rang out around the drawing room, and George grinned.

Well, he could take being the center of attention, even if the laughter surrounding him was at his own expense. It was hardly a change in his circumstances—he'd often been the butt of Chance brothers' jokes.

And one change in his circumstance made it even easier to face.

Seated beside him, and holding on to her cards with a sorrowful expression, was Miss Doris Loughty. At least she wouldn't bear that name for long. If that damned special license had arrived in the post today as it ought to have done, they'd be spending the evening putting the final touches for their wedding day together.

As it was, it hadn't, and so they weren't. And so he had been unable to put off having all the Chances over for dinner and a few games of cards.

All the Chances…

"I don't know h-how you p-put up with him, M-Miss Loughty," said Florence, the new Marchioness of Aylesbury, said with a teasing look.

George glanced at Dodo, hoping she wasn't too disappointed to have been beaten.

And groaned.

"What's wrong now?" asked Aylesbury, starting to scoop the coins together and pushing them in George's direction.

"It's Dodo," he said with a wry expression. "I know that look."

"I haven't the faintest idea what you mean," Dodo said serenely. "Though I do think your declaration of success is a little… premature."

With great aplomb, and a beaming smile across her face, she laid down her cards on the table. Cards that had far more pictures on than his own hand.

"I think you'll find—"

But her elegant celebration was immediately overpowered by cheers and laughter.

"That will teach you, Lindow!" said Aylesbury.

"My word, I've never seen anyone beat him at his own game!" exclaimed Cothrom.

"You simply have to teach us, Miss Loughty," cried Alice. "We're so tired of the men thinking they're always having their own way!"

George leaned back in his seat and chuckled as Aylesbury bowed his head, pouring the coins into his future sister-in-law's lap.

If it were anyone else, George would have been highly irritated. No one liked being beaten, especially in such a spectacular way. Now he came to think about it, it was only due to his own pride and grandeur that he had managed to set himself up so well.

But it wasn't anyone else. It was her. Dodo, the perfect woman.

Oh, she had her faults. But he could not think of anyone more perfect for him than her.

In truth, he could hardly believe that she had agreed to marry him. Yes, he had taken her virtue, but she hardly seemed the type to entrap him over that. He didn't believe he had given quite the proposal speech she deserved, and from memory, he had told her some rather hard truths.

"I didn't say that I didn't love you. But I spoke the truth. It is hard. I think love is supposed to be hard."

But she had accepted him. The ring, the symbol of his love, he had placed on her finger still sparkled there, catching the candlelight in the numerous diamonds surrounding the pearl.

"Oh, it was easy really," she was saying to a clearly impressed Cothrom. "The mathematics of it—"

"—don't know how she does it," Alice was muttering to Florence with a mischievous look on her face. "I'm glad she's joining the family—imagine what she would do if she weren't one of us!"

George grinned, through this time, it was tight.

The one person in the room who hadn't spoken, hadn't guffawed loudly, hadn't congratulated Dodo on her spectacular win… was the one person George would have said wasn't one of them.

Frederick Chance, Viscount Pernrith, had been quiet all evening. He had barely said a word all through dinner and had refused a cigar when George had stiffly offered one. His comments while playing cards had been limited to the requirements of the game, and even now as everyone chattered away, he was silent.

George tried not to notice. He'd done enough, hadn't he, just by having him here? The first time Pernrith had been invited to Lindow House.

Yes, George had played his part. Though it was awkward, having Pernrith here.

"It sounds more complicated than it is," said Dodo, her cheeks pink at all the attention she was receiving. "All one has to do is calculate the probability of—"

The entire room groaned, save for Pernrith and George.

"Don't give away your cleverness," George said with a grin.

"She can give it away all she likes. I still won't understand it," Aylesbury said with a shake of his head. "The way you can make numbers do things for you Miss Loughty—"

"‘Dodo,' please," she said, a little shy. "We're almost family, after all."

George's chest swelled.

Almost family. It seemed bizarre that they were not yet married. He considered her his wife, had done since the ring he had chosen had been put on her finger.

The only reason she wasn't staying in one of the guest bedchambers at Lindow House was because her parents had forbidden it.

Well. Not forbidden it. Just made it very clear, Mrs. Loughty with a purse of her lips, Mr. Loughty with a gentle frown, that it was not to be done. They'd already allowed their daughter far too much freedom, they'd had to admit.

George grinned as he allowed the conversation of his family to wash over him. It was a good thing he'd found a pleasant, three-bed chambered townhouse three streets over from Lindow House to rent for the Loughtys, or he wasn't sure what he'd have done. Gone to Croscombe, he supposed. Heaven forbid.

Mr. and Mrs. Loughty had dined with them quite happily and then retired early. They were still, Dodo had explained to him in a hushed tone, very easily tired, and she had no wish for them to exhaust themselves. Besides, with his sisters-in-law present, Dodo had them to act as chaperones.

Dodo Loughty with actual chaperones.

Fortunately for him, he knew his sisters-in-law would hardly be up to the task.

That meant he and Dodo could play cards with his family, tease each other in the comfort of their company, and perhaps, if he could manage it, he could steal a kiss…

"I've never seen you like this before."

George turned. His oldest brother, Cothrom, was seated on his right. The man had a severe expression most of the time, and there had been occasions during which their differing personalities had caused… difficulties. To put it lightly.

Not today, it appeared. "Like what?"

Cothrom gestured. "You know precisely what I mean. Like this."

George grinned. "Utterly happy, you mean?"

"Out of trouble for more than five minutes together," his brother said darkly. "I hope you realize you've broken several hearts back in London. Apparently, a few ladies had it in their heads that when they came out this Season, they would, and I quote, ‘nab you.' I'm glad you're settling down."

Settling down?

He supposed he was, though George would never have used that term to describe what he had with Dodo.

Settling? He would never have imagined he could win the heart of someone so precious, not in a million years.

Down? It was an upgrade, most certainly, and an improvement of his life in all quarters.

Though now that he considered it, and the thought was a most unpleasant one, he supposed if one took a view from the other direction, then Dodo Loughty was most certainly settling down with him…

"You're happy, at any rate."

George blinked. Cothrom's smile was brief, but he caught it. "I am."

"Good."

How could he not have been? Being with Dodo gave him the certainty within himself he had never known before. Had challenged him, made him examine himself in a way Cothrom and all his lectures had never managed.

And now he was able to spend the rest of his life with her?

"William," came a quiet voice.

George glanced over and accidentally caught an intimate moment between Cothrom and his wife. Alice had touched her husband on the arm, just gently, but apparently, that was sufficient.

Cothrom nodded briefly, then turned back to George. "We will have to depart, I am afraid."

"Oh, must you?" Dodo asked, then winced at her indiscretion. "I mean—naturally, if you are tired—"

"More than a little tired," said Alice with a tinkling laugh. Her hand cupped her swelling stomach, just for a moment. "I think it is time we three returned home."

Although it was a very brief exchange of looks, George did not miss it—the moment that Aylesbury looked at Florence. His wife made the same subtle movement.

Oh, hell. Not more Chances. Weren't they having enough difficulties with the ones they already had?

"Besides, I should look in on Maudy," Alice was saying as the whole company rose from the table. "She'll be asleep, I hope—"

"She'll be lying awake waiting for you to return, if I know that girl," said Cothrom with a look George had never seen before.

Well, someone was likely to steal the man's heart eventually. George had just never expected it to be Cothrom's stepdaughter. Maude was just over three years of age, and as far as he could remember, was the very picture of her mother. She had the pair of them wrapped around her little finger.

As she ought , George thought with a grin as he shepherded his guests to the hall and oversaw Cawthorne, his thin-faced new butler wishing them a good evening as two footmen returned pelisses and greatcoats. Maudy was a charmer. She was going to make a gentleman work very hard someday.

"—and please do give our best wishes to your parents again," Alice was saying, her pelisse now around her shoulders and her hand slipped into the arm of her husband. "Such pleasant people."

Dodo was nodding, then murmuring a few words of goodbye to Florence.

George's affection swelled. He had never considered it important to choose a wife who understood and fit in with his family. In truth, he had thought little about getting a wife at all.

But now he had Dodo, and he saw how easily she took to being a part of the family… It was like they'd been made for each other.

The Cothroms had already left as the Aylesburys started walking out the door. Yes, his sisters-in-law had quite forgotten their duties as Dodo's chaperones. Forgotten or " forgotten ." And that left—

"It was very pleasant to meet you, Lord Pernrith," Dodo said softly, curtseying low.

Lower than she needed to. Why, she knows the man is just a viscount , George thought viciously. She never was so formal to me. There's no need to …

The thought faded away—or he pushed it away, he wasn't sure. George's jaw tautened.

He didn't like who he was when he was around Pernrith. The man brought something out in him, something dark and vicious and cruel.

And whose fault is that?

"Good to see you, Pernrith," he said curtly.

Then he did something he had never done before and was almost certain was going to confuse the man to no end.

He offered out his hand.

George had been correct. Pernrith stared at the hand for a moment, seeming unsure precisely what to do with it.

A flicker of sadness rushed through him. Had he truly been so awful to the man that he was surprised at the merest modicum of civility?

"Lindow," said Pernrith, taking his hand and squeezing it briefly.

They both let go. Probably too soon.

"Well, good evening," said his half-brother, and with a nod to Dodo, the viscount stepped out into the cold, Bath air.

Cawthorne shut the door. "And will that be all, my lord?"

"It will, Cawthorne, thank you. And excellent work tonight," George said, remembering how smoothly the dinner had gone, how much more cheerful his footmen were. And there's been no complaints from the maids, either. Not to mention Cawthorne's gaze did not even flicker to Dodo, no hint of condoning the social faux pas of allowing his betrothed here alone without a chaperone. "Please consider this a permanent position. I'll raise your salary."

The man blinked, evidently astonished but pleased. "I—thank you, my lord. I-I did not expect—"

"Now Miss Loughty and I have some final business to discuss before she leaves," George said hurriedly, uncomfortable at the man's obvious gratitude. "We'll conclude in the drawing room. Good night, Cawthorne."

"Good night, my lord."

Only when he and Dodo had returned to the drawing room and closed the door behind them did he truly relax. "Too much?"

"I think the increase in salary was a surprise, yes," said Dodo with a knowing expression, dropping onto the sofa.

George smiled. That was another one of the things he loved about her. She just seemed to know what he was talking about, without much of an explanation needed.

"I will have to leave salary negotiations in your corner," he quipped.

Dodo's eyes widened. "Why on earth would you—oh. Oh, I see."

"He'll be your butler in a few days," George pointed out, ensuring the drawing room door was closed. He turned the key, just to be sure. One never knew with the servants—and he wanted this to be a private audience.

"I am still growing accustomed to your family," Dodo said quietly, visibly swallowing.

Does she think I would be offended by such a remark? "We all are, I think," George said, easing onto the sofa with a sigh. "It's changed a great deal this year."

"You mean the addition of your two new sisters-in-law?"

He nodded. "Yes. And them."

He still wasn't sure what had happened that evening when he had gone to Pernrith for help.

Oh, he knew what had happened. They'd drunk brandy, chatting about how much he was in love with Dodo, and his half-brother had encouraged him to do something about it. And then George had left, round about half past one in the morning.

On the face of it, nothing much had happened at all. If it were any other family, nothing would, by all accounts, have happened.

But they weren't any other family. They were the Chances. Encounters like that simply did not happen—certainly not between himself and Pernrith.

Pernrith, of all people!

"We're a complicated bunch," George said aloud.

A bit of an understatement, to be sure, but—

"There's clearly little love lost between you and Viscount Pernrith," Dodo said softly, drawing up her heels under herself and letting her gown flow to the floor.

George hesitated. "You know, that would have been true a few months ago. A few weeks ago, even, but… things are different now."

What that difference would change, he was not sure. He supposed he would just have to wait and see.

Dodo was grinning. "Because you're in love?"

There was a singsong quality in her words that made it eminently clear she was teasing him.

A flare of heat, a need to have her close, perhaps even stop her mouth with a kiss, overwhelmed George.

But he managed to resist. For now.

"Because," he said, rolling his eyes, "I'm in love. Now come here."

Dodo went willingly into his arms. The kiss was passionate, slow and seductive, and George was certain she knew precisely what she was doing.

Making it difficult to stand without embarrassing himself.

But he couldn't help it. His whole body thrummed with need whenever he was with her, and the closer they got to the special license returning from Canterbury, the more challenging it was getting, forbidding himself from touching her.

The kiss deepened, and Dodo had just moved to straddle George on the sofa when she leaned back, panting.

"We said we weren't going to do this."

George blinked up with lust-hazed eyes at the beautiful woman whose hips were pressing into his rapidly stiffening manhood. "I haven't the foggiest idea why."

Dodo gave a laugh, sweeping back the hair that was escaping her pins. "You do something to me, my lord, that—"

He groaned. "Don't you dare call me that!"

"Why on earth not?" she asked, a teasing lilt in her voice even as her cheeks pinked. "I rather like it. My lord ."

George shivered. If she kept saying it like that, he was not going to be responsible for his actions.

"You do know, don't you," he said seriously, "that I am incredibly fortunate to have found you?"

"A lucky Chance."

"I am in earnest," George said quietly.

The thought he could have passed her by at McBarland's… that there was even the smallest of possibilities they would not have found each other…

It did not bear thinking about.

"After all, what are the odds that we would have found each other?"

Dodo's face turned serious, her eyes sparkling. "As a matter of fact, I started working this out! The probability could not be too difficult, I thought, not with a limited number of people in Bath. Then there was the fact that your brother directed me to McBarland's to find you, exponentially increasing—"

George leaned back, his head cocked. "My brother?"

Dodo's shoulders shrugged as she suppressed a smile. "Yes, well, I thought he might have told you about that. The marquess."

Oh, George was going to have a few questions to ask the marquess . She had mentioned knowing the man at that first meeting, but he'd only suspected his brother had directed her straight to him.

"He told me you gambled with large sums, and my mind immediately started calculating—"

"Dodo, were you at McBarland's to seek me out in particular?"

Dodo opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "That is neither here nor there, in the end. I was hardly there with the intentions of marrying you. And besides, I do believe the odds were we would have found one another eventually, considering the path I was on. I calculated the probability. I think I left my workings out somewhere in here, actually, I—"

George pulled her close and kissed her on the mouth.

He had never really been one for words. Partly because Cothrom always misunderstood him, partly because Aylesbury had never needed them to get into mischief with him, and Pernrith—

Well. He hadn't exchanged many words at all with Pernrith, now he came to think about it.

With Dodo, words were not necessary. She understood him on a level that was instinctual, deeper than mere affection.

And George tried to show her just how much that meant to him as the kiss deepened, his hand moving to her breast, teasing the nipple through her fabric of her gown, which was most annoyingly in the way, and—

"We mustn't," Dodo said breathlessly, pulling away but remaining straddled over his lap.

George groaned as he leaned his head on her shoulder.

It was getting more and more hard— more and more difficult , he corrected himself with a half-smile—to be around Dodo and not want to seize her.

And they had told themselves they would be good. The trouble was, they were so good in bed together.

"I should probably send you back to your parents," George said, with just enough breath to make out each word. "In the carriage."

"I suppose you should," Dodo said, turning her head to kiss him on the forehead.

For a good number of minutes, neither of them moved. Then—

"Or," said Dodo, a mischievous look on her face as she started to fumble with the buttons of his breeches.

George groaned. "Oh, thank God."

It did not take her long. As his manhood sprang free of the fabric that had been restricting it, Dodo carefully lifted herself up and moved her skirts about to spear herself onto him.

Biting his lip to prevent himself from crying out, it was all George could do not to moan as Dodo slowly lowered herself onto him.

Oh, Christ, she was so wet. So warm. So ready for him—just as eager for him, in fact, as he was for her.

"I do love you, you know." He gasped, holding on to the edges of the sofa cushion to steady himself.

If he tried to touch Dodo, he was in danger of exploding into her before she had her own peak. And he wouldn't be that selfish—not if he could help it.

Dodo smiled down at him, the flickers of pleasure she was evidently feeling burning her cheeks. "I should think so. I'm about to ride you far better than your jockeys ever rode Honor of Guinevere or Scandal of Lancelot."

George did groan at that, and Dodo captured his lips immediately, preventing the noise from echoing through the house.

Slowly, inch by inch, the woman he loved built a rhythm upon his manhood that had George twitching and moaning. Her own climax was taken twice before she looked at him and nodded.

"Come with me," Dodo whispered.

It was not an invitation he was likely to decline. Wishing to goodness she were staying the night so they could see in the dawn experiencing ecstasy like this, George felt his whole body twitching and tautening as Dodo rode him closer and closer to a peak he was desperate to—

"Dodo!"

"Yes, yes, George!"

They came together, their need mingling as he shot himself into her. The pleasure was exquisite, almost painful, and she kept riding him, right to the very edge of the precipice and then beyond.

George's head tilted back over the edge of the sofa as his body shuddered at the end of his release. "Damn."

"Dodo," she corrected, kissing him lightly on the lips.

Blinking up through the haze of requited coupling, George nodded, his hands moving to cup her buttocks. I will never lose her again.

"Dodo," he repeated with a grin. "My Dodo."