Chapter Twelve

G avin watched as the door shut behind Holly, the definitive noise of the latch locking him out conveying a world of words that needn't be explained. He had surprised her, pleasured her, and discarded her in mere minutes and he knew she would likely be confused for days on end.

But it was all he could do to keep her away from him.

Leaning his forehead against the bed post, a deep groan escaped him. Why in the world had he permitted himself to do that? Surely he could have just pushed her out of his room before things went that far. Hell, he should have locked his door the moment he arrived to his bedchamber, but it had never occurred to him to lock her out. More to the point, he probably should have considered locking himself in .

The all-consuming need to touch her, taste her, had seized him the moment she reached for his arm. She cared about him and had confessed it without any issue, which both alarmed him and made him suspicious. Never in his life had anyone admitted out loud to caring about him, and it unnerved him.

Trust me.

He had asked her, commanded her, and pleaded for her to do so all at once and she had complied without any question. He had wanted to sate the ever-growing desire between them, but it had the opposite effect. The desire to give her a release she had never known had been too powerful to ignore and when she had the satisfaction that had rolled through his chest, knowing that he had caused it was the most powerful thing he had ever felt.

Perhaps it was better to leave a man to starve then to give him a morsel. For now, he was aware of what he couldn't have.

Of course, he could have her, again and again, if only their annulment situation was obliterated. Yes, they had been tricked into their marriage, but with every passing day it seemed more and more like he had actually won some sort of prize as opposed to having his choice snatched away.

Yet his feelings on the matter were moot. Regardless of how he felt, Holly would have her choice and nothing else mattered.

A part of him considered trying to convince her that their marriage was a good thing. She was a baroness now, with money and a certain amount of social power. She was as free as she could be, except that she would have to remain married to him. But did she want that?

Was he good enough?

A long-forgotten pain seized his heart at the question. How many times in his youth had he asked that very question? For years, he'd doubted himself. John hadn't wanted him, hadn't even supplied him with enough money for him and his aunt to survive with comfort, and Gavin had longed for things out of his reach. A family, financial independence, the genuine love of another human being instead of being viewed as something to be dealt with. He had trained himself to be a man who did not need any of those things and had thus far enjoyed his solitary life.

But the question he had fought so long to forget resounded in his mind. Was he good enough for someone like Holly?

The deepest parts of him doubted it, but then something about her made him equally confident, which only confused him more. He was strangely self-assured yet doubtful when it came to her. She made him want to beg her for things, while possessing her at the same time. It made little sense, and Gavin wasn't as desperate now as he had once been. He was a different man than the one he had started out as, and he was simply too reluctant to trust anyone. Even Holly.

It was outrageously unfair to ask her to trust him when he didn't even trust himself, but she had and his heart had swelled like never before. Holly's pleasure was his to give and it had physically pained him to stop himself from taking her fully, having wanted to provide her with soul shattering releases over and over again. But they couldn't. Not without her accepting what it would mean if they did so.

When had he become so desperate for her? Surely his uncle hadn't known that a woman of her quality would be nearly everything he had ever privately desired? She was thoughtful and bright, kind and caring. Beautiful and gentle, but with a spine of steel that didn't even cower to Aunt Marnie.

Gavin smirked as he removed his shirt and climbed into bed. He had a wife who was fearless and cared for him and who was just as desperate to go to bed with him as he was to keep her there. But he wouldn't have her forever.

Perhaps she might only need to be persuaded to seeing how well they suit. Their evident physical attraction to one another was palpable and even that was secondary to how easily they interacted with one another. It was as if every part of him responded to every part of her, from intellectual, to practical, to sexual. They were two halves of the same coin.

Now he only needed to explain it to her. But how?

It was a question that plagued him all night and well into the following morning. Sleep had once again evaded him through the night and he was eager to be awake and out of the house before Holly woke. He needed time to consider his argument.

He spent the majority of his day out, only returning to Bairnsdale Terrace that evening to change into his formal wear to attend the dinner party Combe was hosting.

Unfortunately, upon entering, he ran into Aunt Marnie.

"We're to be late!" she squawked the moment he entered the foyer. "What the devil kept you all day?"

"I didn't think you were attending," he said mildly, ignoring her questioning as he handed his coat to the footman.

"Of course I'm coming. Combe said family, didn't he?"

Gavin sighed as he walked past her. Climbing the steps two at a time as he reached the stairs, he called over his shoulder to reassure her.

"I'll be ready in just a few moments."

Hurrying towards his room, he heard the muffled voices of Holly and her sister in the baroness's room as he passed. He wondered bitterly if she would insist on wearing one of her mourning gowns as he entered his room, finding his formal wear all ready for him.

Dressing quickly, he tried to focus on the fact that he would be amongst friends tonight. Perhaps Combe and Trembley could offer him some advice on how to handle the situation he was in with Holly, even though he doubted he'd be able to explain it. Still, once his cravat was tied, he left his room, hurried down the stairs and found all three women, wrapped in formal fur lined coats, waiting for him.

"Shall we?" he said with a nod, stretching out his arm for Holly.

She took it, albeit gently, as they led the way to the carriage. Blessingly, no one seemed much in the mood to speak during the ride to Combes, which was really only a few short minutes away.

By the time they arrived to the four-story white stone house, a strange atmosphere had settled over their company. It seemed everyone was emanating a sort of excitement. Even Aunt Marnie's usual scowl seemed lessened, most like because the Duke of Combe's London residence was one of the finest in all the city. Though Gavin had been there a number of times, it still held a wild fascination for most of the ton, including the ladies. But while Holly, Katrina and Marnie stared out of the carriage window, a pit seemed to grow in Gavin's stomach. Somehow he sensed that this night would not be the easy gathering of friends that he expected.

The carriage door opened and they filtered out one by one. Holly took Gavin's arm again, and he escorted her in through the glossy black door of the manse. They were greeted by a butler, who took each of their coats and wraps before leading the way to the parlor.

When Holly pulled back her hood and turned her back to the butler so that he might take her heavy coat, Gavin expected to see her usual black frock, but to his surprise, she was wearing the most brilliant emerald-green gown that made him lose all concentration.

Gold leaves had been embroidered under the bust and up around the short, slightly puffed sleeves. The neckline was low, edged with some gauzy gold trim that barely hid the roundness of the top of her breasts, making it appear as if she were showing more than she was. Tiny, shimmering beads were scattered across the fabric, making her appear as though she were some garden queen. Emerald and pearl pins adorned her walnut hair that had been styled with the majority pulled back into a chignon, with several curled pieces framing her face.

His absorption in his wife must have been noted, for Holly appeared uncomfortable after a moment or so. Clearing her throat, she came forward and spoke, unsurely.

"Is it… is it not to your liking?" she asked quietly, so that Aunt Marnie and Katrina did not hear.

"Excuse me?" he asked, his voice husky.

"The dress, I mean."

"No, it's… it's very much to my liking." He paused as his eyes roamed over her. "I didn't not think you could have a dress made so quickly."

She smiled.

"It wasn't made for me, actually. Miss Piedmont had a number of gowns finished for another lady who left London rather unexpectedly. So, she had a number of dresses, just my size, as it were." Holly's cheeks turned slightly pink. "They were cheaper, since they were already made and I confess, that is why I bought them as the colors are darker than what I prefer, but I quite liked this one." Her hands moved down to her hips and she gently gripped her skirts, as if to display them.

"It's stunning. You're stunning," he said softly. "But I told you, you needn't worry about spending money on clothes."

"And you needn't worry about going to the poor house because of my spending," she countered with a grin.

She took his arm and Gavin's mind slowly began to work again. He turned to follow the butler as the heat of Holly's fingers coursed down his forearm.

Was she always so considerate? And since when had the style of gowns become so daring? He could barely concentrate on his own footsteps, knowing that she was dressed so alluringly.

Consumed in his own thoughts, the butler reached the doorway to the parlor and bowed before announcing their arrival as they entered a room full of familiar faces.

"The Baron and Baroness of Bairnsdale," he said with a nod. "As well as Miss Margaret Winscombe and Miss Katrina Smyth."

The Duchess of Combe, Clara, nearly skipped across the room as she came forward to embrace Holly, who had pulled away from Gavin. He was sorry to release her, but reassured to see how unencumbered the two women were in their embrace. No amount of fortune could take away their gentle country charm and Gavin was quite taken with it.

"I'm so glad you came," Clara said, her chin tucked over Holly's shoulder. "And Katrina! My, you look just the perfect young lady. You will be the pride of Lincolnshire at your debut."

"Thank you, Clara," Katrina said with a deep curtsy just as Violet entered the room, her smile genuine at the sight of her friend.

"Oh good! You've arrived," Violet said, taking Katrina's arm. "Fredrick and Lord Trembley should be along any minute. I can't wait to introduce you to Fredrick," she said with a loving sigh. "He's quite brilliant."

"When you aren't sparring with him over literature," Silas said from behind a small pink chaise lounge sat in the center of the room.

Violet gave her brother a teasing glare, just as Derek and his brother Fredrick arrived. Once the butler announced them, Violet was quick to introduce her fiancé to Katrina and Holly.

"A pleasure," Fredrick said to Katrina, his tone light as his gaze fell on Holly. "And Lady Bairnsdale, it's wonderful to see you again. We met last summer at Kingston House."

"We did," Holly said, recalling the house party. "How do you do?"

"Very well," he said, turning to the man next to him. "May I introduce my brother, the Earl of Trembley."

She curtsied before the earl, whose appearance was similar to his brother's, though the earl was taller.

"Gavin has told me so much about you," the earl said. He reached for her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles. "But I'm afraid his description hardly did you justice."

"That's very kind of you to say," Holly said, blushing.

Though it was a simple gesture, a custom of long standing between gentlemen and gently bred women, Gavin felt the oddest twist in his gut as he stared, unimpressed with his wife and his friend's introduction. Instinctively he moved between them, effectively separating Holly from Derek, who gave his friend an odd gaze.

"Gavin, you didn't tell me that you married one of the loveliest creatures this country has seen," he said, oozing charm while Gavin felt the prickling of irritation grow. "She is a vision."

Holly's blush deepened and Gavin felt suddenly murderous.

"You are too kind, my lord," Holly said.

"Yes, Trembley," Gavin said, his tone gruff. "Stop."

The simple command caught the earl's attention as a single brow lifted. Holly's smile fell away and she looked as though she was about to speak when Aunt Marnie's voice sounded behind them.

"Ah, Trembley, still flattering everything with a pulse I see," she said, holding out her hand. "Very well. Do you worst."

"Miss Winscombe, what a pleasure," Derek said through his teeth as he took her hand and bent over it. "I wasn't aware that you would grace us with your presence."

"Of course. The weather has been fair and isn't attacking my poor bones. Now tell me, Combe," she said as she turned around the room. "Who decorated this parlor? It is just the understated, tasteful style that is needed at Bairnsdale Terrace."

"I believe my wife would be better suited to answer that question."

"Nonsense. I wish to hear it from you."

As Aunt Marnie crowded Silas, effectively forcing him to escort her about the room as she rambled on about paint colors, Clara smiled. She was obviously very entertained by the brash old woman.

"I should rescue him shortly," she said softly to Holly, though loud enough for Gavin and Derek to hear. "But I think he should entertain her for a moment. I've heard she is fond of him."

"She always has been, for some reason. Supposedly Silas reminds her of someone from her youth. Maybe Sir Walter Raleigh," Derek said, causing Clara to hide a sudden peal of laughter. He turned to Gavin. "I didn't think she would still be staying with you."

"What am I to do with her? I can't very well throw her out," Gavin said under his breath. "Once I figure out how to get her to leave and go back to her house on Park Lane, I'll be a happy man. But she refuses to leave Bairnsdale Terrace for some reason."

"You're a good nephew, Gavin. Far more patient than I would be."

"Yes well," Gavin said, feeling annoyed when Holly's hand touched his elbow.

"It is kind of you to care for her."

The tight, prickly tension in his stomach released suddenly and a ridiculous feeling of pride filled his chest. Good god , he thought. It was unfair how much her words could govern his mood.

"Come, Fredrick," Violet said to her fiancé. "I wish to know your opinion about the flowers…"

Violet, Holly, and Katrina fell into a conversation about floral arrangements, while Fredrick tried to appear similarly interested. As charming as the Trembley brothers were, Frederick was wholly smitten with Violet which allowed Gavin a break in the ridiculous feeling of jealousy that had consumed him.

Why should he feel jealous? It made no sense. Derek was hardly the sort of man to betray his friends and Holly was already married, wasn't she? Yet the flattery had been almost too much for Gavin to bear, and he found that he was equal parts prideful and jealous for the remainder of their time in the parlor.

When dinner was announced, the guests followed Silas and Clara into a brightly lit, peach-painted dining room, adorned with wall sconces made of amethyst and brass. Only one portrait hung in the room, above a large marble fireplace behind the head of the table. It was a painting of the duchess, wearing a white silk gown, standing in front of a stone baluster set before a wooded country estate. It had been done to perfection and Gavin noticed Silas gaze up at it in fond admiration before turning around to take his seat.

It was obvious that the duke was besotted with his wife and Gavin wondered if he had found it difficult to allow himself to love so deeply after the disaster that was his first marriage. Gavin was sure he wouldn't be able to trust anyone after what the duke had gone through.

Conversation flowed freely between the guests and though Gavin was unusually quiet, he did enjoy how readily accepted Holly and her sister were by his friends. Of course, Clara and Holly had been dear friends for years. Trembley, who had initially been leery about Combe's bride, had come to recognize that Clara was rather perfect for Combe and the two had developed a friendly banter that often put the duke in a bemused state. Meanwhile, it did Gavin's heart good to witness the others' kindness towards Holly.

Except, of course, for the quips they all endured from Aunt Marnie.

For a woman so focused on female propriety, she certainly didn't adhere to her own stifling rules. For instance, it was custom that ladies drink their wine watered down and never ask for more than one glass during a ball or soiree. A dinner party might be different, but Aunt Marnie had already consumed three glasses of wine and did not seem to be slowing down. Instead, she simply kept interrupting conversations that were happening around her, as if her opinion was wanted by all of them.

"When does your brother arrive home from the Americas, Trembley?" Silas asked between the soup course and the main course. "He's been gone for nearly seven months, hasn't he?"

"He has, and the fool won't stop sending mementos home from every new place he visits," Derek said, turning to Gavin. "Speaking of which, how do you like those lemon candy things?"

Gavin's brow raised.

"Were they from you?"

"Well, my brother. I tried one and despised it, but I remember you always had a penchant for sweets."

Gavin grinned.

"I've enjoyed them immensely. Send my thanks."

"I will—"

"Tell me, Lord Trembley, have you held any of your famous card games recently?" Aunt Marnie interrupted loudly as she took another sip of her claret.

"Ah, no, madam, I have not. Not since… well…"

"Since the duke here won himself a wife?" she asked, glancing at Clara. "Such high stakes. It's no wonder you've canceled your tournament."

Gavin turned towards her.

"Aunt Marnie," he said with a warning.

"Yes, well, it was a foolish pursuit. And considering what occurred at the last game," Trembley said, giving a sympathetic look to Clara, "I decided it was best to conclude my involvement in gambling."

"Is that so? I should let you know that I find it highly insulting that you never considered hosting a card game for the ladies of your social circle." Aunt Marnie hiccupped, evidently relaxed by the wine. "It wasn't very sporting of you."

"My mother actually used to host one for her and her friends."

"Really?" Aunt Marnie said with interest.

"Yes, but she hasn't done so since my father passed away."

"Oh. Hmm, what a pity."

It was clear that Aunt Marnie's dismay was over the absence of the card game, not the death of Trembley's father. Gavin cleared his throat, hoping to deter his aunt from speaking again by changing the subject.

"This is a potent vintage, isn't it?" he asked, holding up his own glass. "Is it French, Silas?"

"I'm afraid so," the duke said. "Although I've been more inclined to the Italian wines recently."

"Posh, this is a fine vintage," Marnie said with a hiccup, staring at Gavin.

"I always preferred French to Italian myself," Clara said, glancing at her husband with a smile. "I've tried to prove French superiority, but Silas refuses to concede."

The duke smirked back at his wife.

"Because you are wrong, my dear. Italian is better."

Missing the obvious playful tone between the two, Aunt Marnie leaned forward.

"You should not be so opinionated, my dear," she said to Clara. "It isn't becoming of a wife." She took a sip of wine before continuing. "And with all the annulment talk going around London these days, I would be worried if I were you."

Clara smiled tightly, though her eyes bounced back and forth between Aunt Marnie and the duke. Gavin groaned inwardly. His aunt was getting in her cups. He needed to get see her out of the dining room under some sort of false cover.

"Aunt Marnie, would you mind—"

"Did you know that these two," Aunt Marnie said, gesturing her glass at Gavin and Holly, "are getting an annulment? They have a lawyer and everything."

Everyone around the table froze. Though Gavin had confided in his friends and Holly no doubted had done so with hers, it was an inappropriate thing to bring up during a dinner party.

"Aunt Marnie—"

"We are not seeking an annulment," Holly said quietly but firmly, effectively silencing Gavin as everyone faced her.

Aunt Marnie hiccupped again, her brow scrunching.

"Yes you are."

"No, we are not."

"Yes, the lawyer said… um," Aunt Marnie said, waving her hand to her left. "Armstrong, was it? He said that, um…"

"The lawyer's suggestion was to claim fraud. We cannot. And as neither one of us is incompetent, we are unable to file." She looked at Gavin. "As it is, there is no way to proceed."

Everyone stared quietly at Holly while Gavin tried to settle his pounding heart. After a moment, Clara leaned forward.

"Obviously, we would all be very happy for you both if this was what you wanted." She paused, staring at the both of them. " Is this what you want?"

Gavin knew the question was directed at the both of them, but he waited for Holly to speak.

"Yes. Yes it is," she said softly and picked up her fork, signaling the end of the topic.

Apparently Gavin's grand plan of convincing her to stay married to him was not needed, for Holly had decided to do so on her own.