Chapter Thirteen

Quin returned to the second floor and the room he shared with his wife an hour later, glad that he had shielded Augusta from the gawking stares of the men below stairs and the jeering calls he'd heard Mae endure.

His wife.He could hardly believe his good fortune, though he thought himself undeserving. After all, he was a lowly Mr., a self-made man, not a lord with a hereditary title.

Annoyed, he knocked on the door of his wife's chamber and waited for Louisa to answer. The dutiful domestic eased the door open, carefully recognized him, then motioned him in. He entered the room, drawn to the warmth of the fire, but mostly the woman who stood beside it, her blonde hair reflecting firelight, her blue eyes as clear and openly inviting as they were that day, not too long ago, in Hyde Park. The shape of her eyes rounder now, however, enchanting and glistening with expectation.

"I see you have recovered from our journey," he said, unable to find something more thought-provoking to say.

"I am." She paused, flicking a glance at Louisa, who made her way silently to the door. "Must you go? We have not yet eaten."

Louisa, though inexperienced, exhibited a wisdom beyond her years. "Please excuse me, Mrs. Prendergast. The landlady noticed and sent a meal to my room. If you need me, I shall not be far." With that said, she quietly opened the door and closed it behind her.

Alone, at last.

Firelight danced in the hearth, the crackle and pop and flickering shadows a picturesque backdrop to the most beautiful woman he had ever seen—his woman. My wife. There were so many things that he wanted to teach her, show her, experience with her. But Augusta chewed her bottom lip, nervousness a fragile shell he'd have to take care not to crack. He approached her slowly to avoid her sudden alarm, pulling out a chair stationed by the small table near the fire.

"Will you join me?"

She nodded with a tight-lipped smile, then obediently moved to do his bidding. Assuring she was comfortable, he sat opposite her and stared at their meager wedding night dinner—their first together and the start of many more to come. Mae's cook, though not as sophisticated as the ones the Steeres employed, was renowned throughout the countryside. Many considered it an honor to eat at the White Hart Inn.

He pointed to her plate. "Mae's cook wasn't schooled in London, but she does a fine job of braising fowl and potatoes. You should try them." Augusta merely stared down at her food without saying a word. "I imagine you must be hungry after our journey."

Her eyes snapped up, capturing his heart with their piercing honesty. "This is not what I expected."

Her pale face and astonishment cut through him. "Forgive me, Augusta. I explained why we must spend our first night as husband and wife here, rather than at Sevenoaks. Life is filled with unexpected cracks and chance."

"I'm afraid I do not understand."

"I'm talking about luck."

"Luck?"

He plunged on, unfaltering in his efforts to show Augusta that there was no reason to be afraid of him. "The same type of good fortune that brought us together in the park. I assure you that I will not take chances with your safety. When it comes to business and personal matters, I gamble at terrible odds and avoid stumbling on stones." He cut off a piece of meat, allowing a faint glint of humor to show. "Take me, for instance. A man walking alone in the park commits an act of clumsy stupidity, stumbling upon the most bighearted and blameless woman in Town. He cannot forget such an encounter, such a woman." He chuckled icily. "He should not even when the ton intimidates and emboldens viperous venom."

"I am sorry," she whispered.

"There is no need to be. You changed the trajectory of my life." He studied her thoughtfully. "You cannot know the importance of such a feat."

"I have a confession to make." Dignity laced her silky voice. The web of deceit he'd crafted condemning him for not being more open, and telling Augusta the truth about Bess. "I could not forget you, either. In truth, Delphi and I returned to the park on several occasions hoping to see you again."

The mystery in her blue eyes beckoned him irresistibly. "I am aware of my faults. I know that marrying me was beneath you, that others will look at you differently now."

"That is not true." Her eyes darkened to sapphires, firelight glinting off the radiant orbs emphasizing the differences between them. She was a light to his darkness, little compared to his massive size, and everything his mother might have been in different circumstances. Although it seemed she was determined to topple the pedestal he'd placed under her feet. "You did not let me finish.

"What more is there to say? There is a nature to the beast called Society that a man cannot combat. My indiscretion at the Claremont's ball is the reason you are sitting at this table."

Not to mention the list his cousin manufactured at the Lyon's Den, though he would not go into the specifics with her now. That secret would have to wait for another day, preferably not on their wedding night.

"Nothing could be farther from the truth. I trapped you." She pushed her plate forward. "You know nothing about me, Quin."

Hearing the sound of his name coming from her lips was ambrosia to his ears. "I know enough."

"I am not being modest."

"You have been thrust into a whirlwind and have yet to land on firm ground. But you will. I will see to it if it's the last thing I do in this world."

"You mustn't speak in such a manner." Her sudden misery nearly struck him down. "None of us can know what the future will bring."

"I can think and plan." He reached across the table for her hand. "I can make you a promise. Just like the one I made before the vicar in your townhouse. I have no intention of defaulting on my promissory note."

"Promissory note?"

"Our marriage certificate." The fringe of her lashes cast shadows on her cheeks and he studied her thoughtfully for a moment, desiring to make her understand he was a good man with a good heart. "I vow to protect and cherish you. My father could not provide that for my mother, but I will. Therefore, it will be so. My word is my bond."

"Oh, Quin." Her hand clung to his, filling him with a startling sensation of purpose. "I have not forgotten that Mrs. Pigeon is the only family you have left. Growing up alone must have been incredibly hard. Just being apart from Delphi is painful enough. I cannot imagine losing everyone else in my family too."

Sadness simmered in the farthest reaches of his mind, but he smothered the flames of regret that fueled his ambitions. "You will see Miss Delphi in the not-too-distant future. Now, eat. Tomorrow, I will give you a tour of your new home. I hope you will find it as diverting as I do."

Her smile finally reached her eyes. "You had me at horses," she confided.

"What?" he asked looking up from his plate.

"When you described the stables on your estate at dinner, you needn't have said more."

They ate in happy partnership until the meal was nearly gone and the flames in the hearth dwindled down to a muffled flicker. A chill caught Augusta by surprise and she shivered slightly, hugging her arms about her. Dutifully, he rose from the table and retrieved the delicate shawl Louisa had placed at the end of the bed. The inviting mattress weakened his will power, making his head spin with images of their legs intertwined.

He cleared his throat and turned away. "Maybe this will help."

She met him half-way, turning so he could drape the cloth. He laid the wrap over her shoulders, smoothing the fabric and resting his hands there, longing to bury his face below her hairline and kiss the pulsing hollow of her neck.

"Augusta." Whispering against her ear, he made a vow. "I will protect you until my dying day."

A hint of violets perfumed her skin. He closed his eyes, putting the fragrance to memory before stepping back and providing her the space a lady like Augusta required.

She grasped his hand, her touch almost unbearable in its tenderness. "I want to be a good wife, Quin."

His heart beat wildly in his chest. "You will be."

"I hope to live up to your expectations."

She ran into his arms and he immediately crushed her to him. Their lips met, eager and full. He kissed her hungrily, basking in the soul-reaching euphoria she triggered inside him. Blood pounded in his brain, moving lower and lower to the all-too-familiar place he'd find instinctive reward. But it all was moving too fast for his liking. This wasn't how he'd planned—

He broke away to gaze into Augusta's face, savoring the heightened color of her cheeks, the quickness of breath that implied she experienced the same wild and uncontrollable sensations that he did. Her plump, red, bow-shaped lips were an inescapable lure, drawing him in, making him desire to kiss her endlessly, to explore every inch of her, to know her like no other being in the world.

But this wasn't how he wanted her first night together to be. He wanted it to be perfect. She deserved more courtesy and care. Not a husband prepared to take her virginity mere feet away from wastrels who drank themselves into oblivion, below.

Laughter drifted up from the courtyard. A thud echoed down the hall.

"I can't." He laid his forehead on hers, giving them both time to come to their senses. "Making love to you in a place like this is wrong." He pulled away, hoping she would understand he respected her more than this. "I'm sorry, Augusta."

"I do not want better." She sprang up on the tips of her toes to kiss him again. "I want you."

"No. This isn't right." He lowered her arms and stepped back, turning away and aching with the agony of unsatisfied desire. "You are a lady."

"I am your wife. I thought... you do not want to—"

"I do." He whipped around to face her disappointed hopes. "Believe me, I do." He clenched his fists, grappling with excuses, longing to act on his impulses, and juggling the terrifying realization that no matter what he did, he'd probably put a foot wrong. "Nevertheless, I am firm on this. I must be. An unruly pair of untrustworthy men are lurking below. I cannot allow distractions. Not when you and Louisa depend on my protection."

Indeed, Louisa slept unattended in the room next door. If he lost himself to pleasure, she would be left unprotected. She was Augusta's maid, therefore his responsibility. Flirting with danger wasn't the way to start a marriage or to earn his wife's trust, especially not after Mae had warned him to take heed.

He drew her to him and pressed his forehead to hers, battling the desire to kiss her once more, knowing where one kiss would lead. "Get some rest. If you need anything, I shall be in the hall."

"What?" she asked dumbfounded.

"I won't be far. Just outside, guarding the door. I will make sure that you and Louisa are safe." He didn't wait for her reaction. Grabbing his coat, he strode to the door, every step cursing him for a fool.

What kind of man abandoned his bride on their wedding night?

"I cannot allowdistractions."

"Is that what I am?" she asked after Quin walked out the door. "A distraction?

A key answered, turning in the lock.

"I won't be far. Just outside, guarding the door."

Augusta looked around the bedchamber, wondering what she was supposed to do now, and feeling more alone than ever before. She missed Delphi, her parents, Thenie and Lottie.

Was Delphi experiencing the same paralyzing fear at the inns she and Grey encountered on their trip to Lyme?

Loud and riotous laughter drifted through the eaves, validating Quin's concerns and heightening her fright. How selfish she'd been, thinking only of herself. Poor Louisa. How was she faring? She was young, barely nineteen, and had not been in their employ long. Surely, she was terrified too.

Moving to the chamber door, she grabbed the latch, then remembered that she couldn't get out because Quin had locked her in.

Bereft and desolate, she walked back to the bed and flung herself on it, bursting into tears. This was not how she'd pictured her wedding night. She'd counted the hours until they could be alone, had been prepared to do her duty. Not that she understood the fullness of what that entailed, even though her mother had tried to explain the consummation of vows. But none of that mattered now.

Hehad rejected her.

How was such a thing possible, given that men were known to be lusty fellows and sought female companionship in droves?

She had married him and he left her. Left her!

Lottie had married for love and was incandescently happy. Thenie had married for love and had followed her husband across the sea to Athens. She had married for—What had she married for? A list of names derived from a gambling den? Convenience? To circumvent a scandal?

No. Her heart had been irrevocably lost the moment she'd knelt down to pick up a cane and looked into Quin's eyes in Hyde Park.

Did he not feel the same?

What manner of man had she married?