Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

The next morning, Chloe swallowed down a lump as she sat waiting to receive guests for calling hours.

She’d hardly slept and as she thought of last night, tears threatened to fall from her eyes once again.

Silly, silly fool , she chastised herself.

Just because Ryker had touched her in the carriage didn’t mean he wanted her or cared about her at all. Their intimacy hadn’t changed anything between them. Not his feelings and certainly not the arrangement he’d proposed.

While he had no intention of bedding his wife, apparently he intended to lie with other women.

Why hadn’t this occurred to her sooner?

She bit down on her lip, remembering the events of last night. Her bedroom was at the front of the house. She’d heard the carriage arrive, and then the ringing of the front bell.

Still dressed, she’d made her way down the back stairs and stopped outside of Ryker’s study. She knew it was wrong to listen to a private conversation but also…

There was so much she didn’t know and only a little time to decide about her future with Ryker, so she’d stood just outside the door as the men had talked. But she’d learned far more than she’d bargained for.

She drew in a trembling breath, trying to steady her nerves as the butler arrived to announce Countess Green.

Chloe rose from her seat, taking the other woman’s hands and kissing her cheeks, but even she could tell her actions were stiff, automatic.

Ryker had sworn her to secrecy on the details of their arrangement, but did she even owe him her loyalty after what he was planning?

She looked at Caroline, worry knitting the other woman’s brow. Did she trust the countess with her secrets? They’d only met the day before. And while she was a simple country girl, even she knew to divulge secrets carefully.

“I have a problem that I do not know how to solve.”

“What sort of problem?” Caroline asked as they both sat down the on the settee in front of the fire.

Chloe cleared her throat leaning closer. “The duke…”

Caroline’s gaze lit with understanding. “Has he pressed his suit?”

Chloe nodded. “But also…” And then in a whispered hurry she told Caroline about Ryker’s plans to bed a widow, a bet between friends, though Chloe suspected they were more of a… club. But she didn’t tell that detail to Caroline. Instead, she focused on the possibility of their match and the fact that he had no plans to be faithful.

The rest she kept to herself. The club, the proposed moratorium on touching, the fact that he’d ship her off to some private corner of the dukedom.

It was enough. Caroline’s gaze filled with worry. “Oh dear. Your situation is very complicated.”

“How can I marry him knowing that he’ll bed other women at every opportunity? But if I don’t? Where will I go and who will even want to marry me? He determines whether I have a dowry. Without one, I’m lost.”

Caroline shrugged. “Some women are able to look the other way. I don’t think I’d be able to either.” She sighed. “You really do need a simpler, less complicated husband.”

Chloe shook her head. “I don’t think I have much time to find him, before I find myself attached to the duke.”

“At what event is he going widow hunting? The Rightly ball?”

Chloe nodded but Caroline tapped her chin. “Plenty of eligible men will be there. You could both begin hunting for new prospects and catch the duke in the act of seducing another woman.”

Chloe’s gaze widened. She’d never imagined attempting such a task and her breath caught at the idea of confronting Ryker in such a manner. But then again, what good had being more agreeable done for her?

“How will we catch him?”

Caroline leaned forward. “We’ll simply observe. Though, if that does not work… If only we knew a widow that could set a trap…” And then she gave Chloe the most devilish smile.

Chloe’s mouth fell open. “I am both impressed and?—”

“Appalled? I know. But being married has made me steadfast in my commitment to not being a man’s victim. I’ll use my newfound strength to help my friend. Now… can we visit Mildred? I’ve missed her.”

“She’d love the company. Being idle is not her way and the forced bedrest is making her mad.”

Both ladies rose, Chloe leading the way out the door.

The two women began to discuss safer topics, but half of Chloe’s thoughts lingered on Ryker. She didn’t know him that well, but even she’d learned enough to know that when she called him out… he was going to be furious.

He was a man who usually got his way.

* * *

Two nights later, Ryker’s manservant knotted his cravat, preparing him for the ball.

He’d attended last night’s club meeting but he’d hardly paid attention and the ball held just about as much appeal.

But he continued to dress, knowing that if he wanted to be the Emperor’s successor, this was the path forward.

The idea had him frowning in the handheld mirror as he assessed the knot at his neck. Chloe’s had been better.

But every time he thought of Chloe, his gut churned. He didn’t wish to believe she was involved but was that his emotions overriding his judgment?

Dismissing the manservant, he grabbed his cufflinks and started for the door. He’d not seen Chloe since their carriage ride. She’d been taking meals with his aunt, or she’d remained sequestered in her room.

Despite his worries about her motives, he missed her. And he knew the cravat and cufflinks were an excuse, but he needed something just to see her. Somehow, looking into her eyes would help him find answers.

Reaching her room, he gave a quick knock before he opened the door, not waiting for an invitation.

But he stopped short the moment he entered, his heart stopping for a second before it began hammering against his ribs.

Not one but two maids lowered a deep sapphire silk gown over Chloe’s head. Just before the gown fell, draping over her luxurious curves, he caught sight of her bare shoulders and back above her corset cinched tightly around her tiny waist.

The dress settled about her, not buttoned but still managing to hug her bust and waist as their eyes connected in the mirror.

“Ryker,” Chloe gasped. “What are you doing in here?”

His jaw hardened, his teeth snapping together. “What are you doing in that dress?”

Color flushed her cheeks as one of the maids stepped behind her to begin closing the tiny row of pearl buttons at the back. “You’re dismissed,” he barked, sending both maids scurrying toward the door as he closed the distance between himself and Chloe.

“Ryker.” She didn’t sound fearful this time, just annoyed. “What will they think?”

“Everyone in this house knows we’ll wed. They won’t think anything.”

She spun toward him in a swirl of silk. “Even I know servants talk. If every one of them knows we’re getting married, how do you propose to keep our match a secret?”

How did he tell her that once she left London, their match would only be rumor and speculation. Gossip. Unless someone asked his aunt, and he’d send her with Chloe.

Or they asked the king. And he didn’t make it a habit to talk about anyone other than himself.

“That is my problem.” He stopped a mere foot from her, her large blue eyes locked with his. “Now turn around.”

“Why?”

“I’m going to button your dress and you’re going to tell me why you’re wearing it.”

“That is my problem,” she answered, her features growing harder than he’d ever seen them.

His gaze narrowed as he circled about her and reached for the tiny buttons, beginning the slow process of fastening each one.

Her sweet scent, floral with a hint of musk, filled his nose as his gaze traced the curve of her bare shoulder. “All of your problems are my problems, wife.”

She made a pishing noise. “I’m not your wife yet.”

“You’re my charge and soon you’ll be my wife. It’s my job to care for you.”

She looked away, her mouth tightening, as she purposefully didn’t answer.

He frowned in response. He’d never seen Chloe like this, something was amiss. What was wrong with her? He much preferred those lips under his in a kiss instead of pursed with disapproval.

He reached the top of her corset, finishing the buttons over the skin of her back, which was softer than the silk of the dress. He dropped his face closer, wanting to taste her skin. His fingertips danced across her back, gooseflesh rising on her arms.

He smiled, catching her gaze in the mirror again. “Tell me, wife. Where are you going?”

“I’m not your wife. Not yet. And even when I am your wife, you’ve been clear that to the rest of the world, you’ll continue to play the part of unattached duke.”

Her hands had pressed to her stomach, her elbows out. It only emphasized her narrow waist and the swell of her ample breasts, her cleavage visible in the reflection. His entire body responded, his cock swelling in his breeches. “I won’t ask again. Where are you going tonight?”

Her chin notched up. Where had the demure woman from a week ago gone? “The Rightly ball.”

He should be furious. She’d not asked him if she could attend events without him, nor had he any idea with whom she planned to attend. But relief pulled at his shoulders. They’d be in the same place at the same time. He could watch her, make sure no other man swooped in and plucked her fruit. Because the way she looked tonight…

“You’re not going.”

“I have to go,” she cried, spinning toward him. “Countess Green is on her way here to fetch me. It would be so rude to cancel now.”

But he’d remembered that Strongborn would be there as well. They were widow hunting. Not that a night’s fun would deter Strongborn. The man was also in the market for a wife… and Chloe, suspicions aside, was the most beautiful debutante of the season. The competition wasn’t even close, which meant Strongborn would be interested. But Ryker couldn’t very well tell the other man that Chloe was already attached.

His hand on Chloe’s shoulder tightened. “Chloe.”

“You promised. It was my only request, that I get to attend some events before I leave London.”

Damn himself to hell. Because Chloe’s happiness mattered to him. If he made her stay home after he promised, he knew she’d be upset. And he’d missed her these past few days.

But to bring her meant that she’d meet Strongborn. That he’d fail at his Club task. That London would see her in that dress. It hugged every lush curve, complimenting her large blue eyes and thick blonde hair. She’d have her pick of men.

His plan was falling apart, and he knew it. It had been a stupid plan to begin with, but the moment she’d added that addendum, he’d been doomed. And he’d allowed it. Why?

Because… he was enamored. Had been since he’d first laid eyes on her. Christ.

Now, however, he had to choose. Honor their agreement, knowing that it would be the end of his plan, the end of his involvement in the club. And what if Chloe was in league with Adam? What if she was the Judas? He didn’t want to believe it, but her timing was suspect. Either way, it was a fool’s errand to allow her out this evening.

He turned toward the door. “Sorry, love. But you’re staying in.”

And then, walking to the door, he grabbed the key from the lock, closed the door behind him and turned the lock with a decided click.