Chapter Nine

T he mild scent of grass and rain filled Holly's senses as she was gently pulled out of the darkness of her sleep. The soft, well-worn sheets of the bed she lay in smelled like the outside, and she curled into a ball, rubbing her cheeks against the fabric as she drifted between reality and her dreams.

She inhaled deeply and noted other scents drifting by as well. Lemon and mint. She hadn't realized how sweetly those scents mingled, and in an attempt to be immersed in them, she moved closer, breathing deeply as her body met another person's warm, solid frame. A body.

A man's body.

Gavin.

Holly's eyes flew open, and she fought the urge to bolt away from him, knowing the jerky movement would surely wake him. Instead, she inhaled a careful breath and held it as she stared at her husband's sleeping face.

Exhaling shakily, she watched as his chest rose and fell gently. Really, there was no reason to be startled. She remembered falling asleep, her body pinned straight, as close to her side of the bed as possible without falling off the edge. But her heart was racing. She had never woken up next to a man before, and to see him so close and unaware of her made her pulse flutter.

The longer she watched him, the more relaxed her tense muscles became. He was really quite handsome, with an upturned, full mouth. It almost looked as though he was smirking in his sleep, and Holly wondered if his facial muscles were stuck like that. He was always grinning at everyone, and she was curious why he should do so. He was certainly friendly, but there seemed something intentional about it.

Her eyes drifted upward, landing on the locks of his auburn hair hanging over his forehead. They covered his eyes, and her fingers twitched and rubbed together at the sudden desire to push his hair back.

The heat emanating from him was remarkable, and she vaguely wondered if she would ever need a fire again with him sleeping beside her. Not that they would be sleeping next to one another again. This was a simple mistake; indeed, they would resume keeping their rooms separate once in London of course. But still, he radiated such a heat. The fire had burned out during the night, and she was tempted to get closer to him, but she remained still.

The strong line of his nose, the high planes of his cheeks, and the soft, slightly parted mouth enchanted her. Something about this sleeping man reminded Holly of stories from her childhood about knights falling asleep in fairy rings and being held captive by fae queens. Holly always thought it was rather awful that those knights should be kidnapped, but staring at Gavin at this moment, she found herself somewhat sympathetic to the fairy queens. Unable to look away, she noted his steady breathing and wondered if he was dreaming.

His eyelids flickered and twitched beneath the edge of his hair. Not wanting him disturbed, Holly brought her hand up. Hesitating a moment, she gently tucked the tips of her fingers between his hair and his eyes, pushing it back softly. He inhaled deeply, turning his face in her direction as she quickly removed her hand, only to see his eyes open slightly.

She had wakened him, and she froze beneath his hazy glance. He smiled momentarily, closing his eyes once more before they opened wide again as if just realizing that she was there. She felt her heart flip, and his eyes focused on her.

His mouth parted, as if he were to speak but then he slowly raised one of his hands and brought it to her cheek. Embarrassingly, her eyes closed automatically, enjoying the heat from his fingers, and she was suddenly transported back to the brewery.

His fingers moved to the back of her head, curling into her hair. She thought wildly that he was going to kiss her, and it frightened her to realize just how much she wanted him to.

With painstaking slowness, Gavin pulled her towards him but hesitated for a fraction of a second. Holly sensed his reluctance but wanted him to continue. Bending forward slowly, she stopped just as her lips grazed his, and without any rhyme or reason, she gently nipped at his bottom lip, causing him to inhale sharply. Gavin's grip tightened suddenly in her hair, and he lifted her body, pressing his mouth to hers.

Holly felt her insides melt the moment their lips met. She kissed him back, the gentleness quickly replaced by a desperate eagerness. He tasted vaguely of mint, and Holly pressed against him as his arms moved to her sides. In a single, impressive motion, he hoisted her body up as if she weighed nothing and settled her onto his hard chest. Holly might have gasped if she wasn't so keen on keeping her mouth on his as his tongue swept into her mouth.

All reasonable thought had drifted from her mind like the cold of winter swept away by a spring breeze as Gavin's hands flexed into her back. The softness of her body seemed wholly opposite to the solidness of his. A moan escaped her lips as he held her, her breasts straining against him. Shockingly, she found herself wanting his hands to move down her body, to places she would never speak about out loud, but her mind could hardly focus, for in the next moment, Gavin's entire body moved upwards, pressing the firm length of his manhood into the inside of her thigh.

Holly had never been with a man, let alone held by one like this, but the desperate ache in her seemed to call out in a way that made it clear exactly how it would go. She wanted to rid them of their clothes, sheets, and coverings and feel his skin against hers. Her fingers gripped at his shirt as desire swept over her. She might have ripped it if not for the faint knocking sound that echoed around her.

Gavin's hands came up to her arms, stopping Holly's unschooled ravishment just as her senses returned.

"Holly!" She could hear the muffled voice of her sister sounding through the wooden door. "Are you almost ready?"

Lost for words, Holly's mouth hung open as she stared into Gavin's dizzyingly heated eyes. He nodded, urging her to answer.

"Y-yes!" she called out, turning her head. "Only another moment."

The distinct sound of girlish giggles faded as the two lay perfectly still. For a moment, Holly wondered if they would continue their interrupted activity but then Gavin lifted her up and rolled her to the side. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, Holly watched his back rise and fall, his ragged breath slowly steadying. Without thinking, she reached out and touched his shoulder, but he flinched and stood up, seemingly unable to bear her touch.

"Oh. I'm sorry," she said quickly, but he held out his arm.

"No. No, love, you didn't do anything to be sorry for," he insisted, his tone husky and laced with something that set her heart ablaze. He peered over his shoulder. "But we should get dressed."

"Yes," Holly said, stunned for a moment.

That was twice that she had kissed him, and he had stopped it. Even though she wasn't the type of woman to doubt herself, Holly felt a sudden surge of humiliation. There was obviously something about her that Gavin found appealing, and yet it seemed not appealing enough to fully lose control. Was he just being considerate of the situation? Perhaps he had more self-restraint than she did.

Well, that was a humbling thing to consider.

Aware that he was still watching her, Holly whipped the sheets off her as she launched herself out of bed as quickly as she could. Going to her valise, she pulled out a carriage gown, a simple one that tied in the front, and began dressing.

Holly outfitted herself faster than she ever had, with her back towards Gavin as he did the same. A stilted tension hovered between them, and she feared they might carry it with them all the way to London. Just as they were about to exit the room, Gavin reached for her wrist, stopping her mad dash.

"Before we go, I think we should talk, Holly," he said, more to himself than to her, as her eyes remained low. "I know you want an annulment—"

"We both do," she said firmly. "Don't we?"

He hesitated, and Holly wasn't sure why she was so glad until he nodded, and her hopes dropped again.

"Yes, of course. But with our marriage likely to be reported on by the Times upon our arrival, as well as me already informing the Paynes, and well…I don't see how we can go on, pretending that we're not married."

Holly nodded, unsure what to do.

"I suppose we could call on Mr. Armstrong when we arrive. To see how it's progressing," she said tentatively.

Gavin didn't speak for a moment, but when his fingers dropped from her wrist, Holly's heart sank as well.

"As you wish," he said, turning to open the door.

Holly nodded and left the room, descending the stairs to take breakfast below in the tavern, which was decidedly less crowded than the night before. Why had she suggested a meeting with Mr. Armstrong? But no, why shouldn't she have suggested it? They were set on an annulment, weren't they? Or should she just accept that they were married, properly, and move on with her life?

Yet it hadn't been her choice, she argued in her head as they climbed into their carriage, taking off only moments after exiting the inn. John had deceived her, marrying her off to a relative he barely had contact with. It was deeply unfair to her—and equally unfair to Gavin. He was left without a say in his own choice of spouse too and besides the outrageous indignity of it all, what about their compatibility? John had barely known his nephew—how could he be certain that they'd suit? It could have easily been a nightmare.

But then again, they did suit—remarkably well. Gavin was unwaveringly generous, protective, kind, and patient, with a streak of diplomacy that Holly had rarely ever witnessed in society, particularly in men with titles. How could John have been so sure that their union would be so harmonious?

Puzzled, Holly mainly remained quiet for the duration of their trip. Only upon entering city limits did she let herself be distracted enough to join in on her sister's conversation.

"The buildings are so tall! And there are so many so close together," Katrina said, her nose practically pressed against the carriage windowpane. "How many people must live here?"

"Over a million and a half," Violet said, her head resting against the plush back of the carriage seat. "Or so my brother says."

"My goodness!"

Holly smiled at her sister's eagerness as she, too, peered out onto the busy boulevards. Dozens of pedestrians lined the cobblestone street, seemingly pleased with the sunny weather. The rain had stopped some hours back, revealing a dazzling blue sky just as they reached London. Carriages and carts drove up and down the streets, along with wooden hackneys and men on horseback, all bustling to get to their destination.

"Remember, you lot have an appointment at the modiste later this week," Gavin said, looking at Silas's sister. "I believe Lady Violet here has a standing relationship, Miss Piedmont?"

"That I do."

"Not the Miss Piedmont?" Katrina said, her smile growing.

"Ah, I thought we had decided on Mrs. Bean?" Holly said worriedly.

"Well, we didn't actually agree on anything," Katrina said, looking nervous, as though she had been caught misbehaving. "But when I mentioned Miss Piedmont to Violet, well…"

"She's a fantastic seamstress, I promise," Lady Violet said.

Holly didn't doubt it, but the cost would certainly reflect it.

"Very well," Holly said, conceding that she had lost this battle.

Soon, the carriage turned down a quieter, if not posher, street. The houses here were tall and they all were made from some sort of off-white stone. When their vehicle finally came to a stop, Holly was surprised to find that her gloved hands were tightly laced together. When Katrina and Violet exited the vehicle, her shaking hands braced the carriage door. Then, before she could step down, Gavin's arm appeared.

Having avoided eye contact with him since leaving the inn, Holly let herself peer back at him. Her breath hitched at seeing his kind eyes, seemingly happy to have her looking at him again. It truly was unfair how attractive he was, particularly when he smiled.

She came out of the carriage, and Gavin was beside her in a moment, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm as a pair of passer-byers looked on, greeting them with a smile. Gavin only nodded at them before stepping forward.

The front of their London home was an impressive sight. It was four stories tall, with five windows stacked across each level except the ground floor, with a tall, blackwood door that rounded at the top. The exterior was cream colored, as was every terrace home on the block, making Holly suddenly nervous that she might mistakenly enter the wrong house one day.

Taking a deep breath, she let Gavin escort her toward the door. It was opened by some unseen servant, and Holly's mouth dropped upon entering.

The walls were tall and covered in maroon and gold damask wallpaper. Extravagant artwork, some very close to being risqué, hung from every available inch of wall space. The black and white marble checkered floors stood out against the dozens of exotic potted plants stuck in nearly every corner of the foyer. At least three different décor styles seemed to be battling against one another. Egyptian Revival, Ancient Greek, and French Rococo styles clashed around them, from furniture to vases to artwork. Busts of people Holly had never known lined the hallway, and every spare inch of crown molding was painted gold.

It was garish, to say the least.

"Oh John, whatever possessed you?" she whispered, still rather amazed that someone could have such outlandish tastes in décor. as Gavin pulled her further into the home.

"Having visited him once here, you can imagine my surprise when I saw Kingston House," he said to her as they met a line of servants. "I didn't know he had any taste."

Holly's head swiveled.

"You like the décor at Kingston House?"

"Yes, of course. It's subtle and rather comforting," he said, glancing around. "Quite the opposite of this place. It reminds me of a villa I stayed in once, while travelling through Italy." Holly's cheeks warmed, and he gave her a pointed gaze. "What is it?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing," she said, unwilling to explain that she had decorated Kingston House herself.

A stout man in his forties with salt and pepper hair stepped forward. Dressed in a butler's uniform, he quickly bowed, though he seemed rushed.

"Lord Bairnsdale, Lady Bairnsdale, may I introduce myself. I'm Mr. Spieth."

"Yes, I remember you," Gavin said with a frown as he noted the man's hurried appearance. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, my lord, I—"

"Gavin!"

A high-pitched screech echoed throughout the hallway. Holly faced her husband, whose warm, welcoming manner instantly vanished. His mouth became hard, his hazel eyes grew serious, and his entire body seemed to tense.

"Aunt Marnie," he growled under his breath as the butler hemmed apologetically.

"She arrived this morning and refused to leave, my lord."

A short woman with what looked like a permanent scowl came bustling out of the room to their left. She wore a high-neck lace collar that covered a high-neck gown the color of charcoal. A lace cape that covered her whitish red hair sat atop her head. Her pale eyes seemed both angry and frightened as she stared at the pair of them, arm in arm.

"Is this her? John's final mistake?" she sneered, coming forward as she glared Holly up and down. "Pretty, I suppose, if you were a weak man."

"I beg your pardon?" Holly asked when Gavin stepped forward, effectively blocking her from the old woman.

"I didn't know you were in London, Aunt Marnie. What are you doing here?"

"I only just arrived this morning. You know this was my home before that wretched brother of mine kicked me out and turned it into a house of vulgarity." She squinted around the foyer before her gaze landed back on Holly. "And I came because of a rumor I heard that I pray is not true."

"What rumor?" Gavin asked, moving passed her into an extravagantly decorated sitting room.

Holly struggled to keep her mouth closed as she gawked at the room. Three massive, floor-to-ceiling windows lined the front wall, framed by royal purple drapes hanging from the gold curtain rods. As her eyes scanned the brashly decorated walls, they rose to the ceiling where a shocking mural had been painted. Holly immediately adverted her eyes, making a mental note to avoid this room at all costs.

"Don't you feign innocence, my boy. I received a letter from my dear old friend Mrs. Shoemaker, who has lived these past seventy years a stone's throw from Kingston House. She said she heard it from Mrs. Crompton, who heard it from the elder Mrs. Payne that there was a story in town going about how my brother hadn't married this woman," she said the last word with disdain. "But that he had stood in for you. A proxy marriage!"

"Is that so?" Gavin said, seemingly calm as he went to pour himself a drink, though Holly noted the tension in his shoulders.

"Well? Is it true?" she asked, her scornful gaze landing on Holly again. "Did my brother manage to ruin your life by shackling you to this… this woman ?"

"‘Ruin' is a rather harsh word, Aunt Marnie," Gavin said, his tone practiced as he brought the drink to his lips, his eyes catching Holly's. "I prefer to see it as ‘gifted.'"

The old woman's eyes threatened to bulge out of her head.

"That wicked man! I knew it! I knew he would have his revenge on me!"

Holly was rapidly concluding that her presence was no longer needed. Backing away slowly, she tried to disappear into the hallway when the old aunt pointed a bony finger at her, stopping Holly in her tracks.

"I'm sure you're culpable! What did he offer you? A fortune, no doubt, to try and swindle my nephew—"

"Aunt Marnie," Gavin said, his tone one of warning.

"I didn't know about the proxy marriage, actually," Holly said, lifting her hands as if to deflect the old woman's accusations. "John didn't explain—"

"Didn't explain what? His evil lifestyle? His devious plot to steal Gavin away from me?"

"Aunt Marnie, I'm thirty-one years old," he said, the edge of frustration tinging his voice. "Stop acting like I'm ten and you just won custody."

She turned on her nephew.

"Won? Won? John didn't want you, remember? He practically laughed in my face when I asked for an allowance to bring you up."

"Yes, I am aware," Gavin answered, exasperated. "You've mentioned it."

Holly's frown increased at the old woman's words. John wasn't the type to cast out anyone, and she doubted that he would have refused this woman money to bring up his only nephew and heir. His own flesh and blood.

"Ungrateful boy! And now, when you've finally succeeded in inheriting the title, he's got you shackled to some local wench who is undoubtedly aware of his depraved sexual—"

"That is enough," Gavin said loudly, shocking everyone into silence.

Holly had never heard Gavin speak so forcefully, and apparently, neither had his aunt, who did a very good job at cowering. Just then, a long, irritated meow sounded from the corner of the room, catching everyone's attention.

"That blasted animal," Marnie mumbled, stepping back. "It attacks everyone. I've only been here since this morning, and it nearly mauled me alive when I arrived."

Holly stood on her tiptoes, peering around Gavin's shoulder as she saw a swish of grey in the corner. There, sitting on a green velvet pillow, was the cat Holly had been told she'd inherited. Pauline Musgrove.

"Supposedly it doesn't like raised voices," Holly said, remembering what Mr. Armstrong said, earning her a raised eyebrow from Gavin. Holly gave him a partial smile. "Or so I'm told."

"Gavin, you must listen to me," Marnie tried to interject, but he held up his hand to silence her.

"Aunt Marnie, it's been a long journey and I'd rather discuss this all another time. Now, I'm aware how you feel about Uncle John, but the fact of the matter is Holly and I are married." His aunt huffed indignantly. "And as upset as you are about it, I assure you we're taking all the necessary actions to dissolve it."

"Well, thank goodness—"

"But I will not accept anyone disparaging her," he said, his eyes meeting Holly's. "Do I make myself clear?"

Holly couldn't tear her gaze away from his, a bubbling of hot and cold coursing through her. He would defend her for as long as they were together, but what if they really were to be separated by an annulment? Would Gavin still try to protect her?

"That's because you are a gentleman, no thanks to that wicked brother of mine," Marnie said sourly after a moment. She turned. "And by the sounds of it, you've already begun to handle this farce. Which is good. We don't want John to win."

Gavin rolled his eyes as the old woman turned toward the door.

"Yes, heaven forbid a dead man get the best of you by marrying me off."

The sarcasm of his words seemed to land directly at his aunt's feet.

"I'll be retiring then, since you've gone into one of your fits," she said. "I'll be taking my old room. I hope John didn't turn it into a brothel."

"You're staying here?" Gavin asked, his tone annoyed.

"Yes, to make sure this one," she nodded at Holly, "doesn't keep her claws in you. Good evening," she said, and with a dramatic twirl, she left.

Holly, woozy from all she had heard, faced Gavin.

"John's sister, I assume?"

"Yes. Aunt Marnie. She brought me up when my father died. After John refused to do so," Gavin said, swallowing the last of his drink.

Holly's brow knitted together.

"Forgive me, but that doesn't sound like John," she said, approaching him. "Why would he refuse to raise you?"

Gavin shrugged, pouring himself another as the tension faded from his shoulders.

"Aunt Marnie always said it was because he was too busy, philandering with his vices or consorting with derelicts. It doesn't matter. I've not cared about it for some time."

"And Marnie was all you had?"

"Yes, though I often wonder if letting me to the elements would have been more beneficial," he said with a half-smile, coming around to an overstuffed chair. He sank into it, focusing on the fire as if lost in a memory. "She was so happy the first week that I came to live with her. She seemed to think that God had granted her a great gift, getting to raise me. It was flattering, I suppose, but I always thought it was curious that her greatest gift was my greatest loss."

Holly held her breath, unsure what to say. Gavin had never told her about his past, nor had John.

"Did you two get on well?" Holly asked after a moment.

Gavin shook his head.

"No. Not after that first week. She had turned bitter not long after my arrival, and for three years all she did was complain and harp on about things that either didn't matter, like the laundress's hair color, or things she had no power over, like not being able to afford things. It made me bitter. I was quite an angry lad myself until I went to Eton at thirteen."

"What happened then?" Holly asked, taking a seat opposite of him. The soft meow of Pauline caused Holly to turn, and she saw the large grey cat stand up.

Stretching her long front legs, the cat arched its back and approached them. Holly thought she might jump in her lap for a moment, but the animal only eyed them with mildly disinterest before leaving the room.

"Strange little thing," Gavin said before peering back at Holly. "To answer your question, I was a bit of a problem. I fought most anyone who rubbed me the wrong way. I was small, due to the scarlet fever that took my father three years prior."

"Oh, goodness. I'm so sorry."

Gavin waved his hand.

"The doctors believed it stunted my growth, but I believe this is the height I was always meant to be. My father was shorter than me. But many of the boys at school thought I was an easy target. They quickly found out I wasn't."

"Why were you so angry?"

He shrugged.

"I thought I had a right to it. I felt I was owed something by the world for having my parents taken from me. Not to mention I had three years of living with a woman who did nothing but complain. That sort of living will seep into your bones, rot you from the inside. There didn't seem to be anything that could make me happy," Gavin said with a smirk, twirling his glass in hand. "Until I happened to find myself in a brawl with Silas Winters and Derek Tremblay."

Holly cocked her head.

"Really? Clara's husband? And the earl?" she asked. Gavin nodded. "And fighting them made you happy?"

"Oh yes. Or at least, it led me to becoming un-angry, if you will. They made me see that my lack of family connections was really more of a blessing than a burden. I had no one to impress but myself, no one to care for. There wasn't anyone to depend on me or to worry about. I was essentially free to do whatever I wished." Though his tone was even, Holly noted a touch of sadness, and she wondered if he actually believed his own words. "Derek told me that if I went around fighting the world, I'd only catch fists. And while Silas had everything in the world, it became clear to me that it couldn't give him peace of mind. Of course, it took me five years to fully grasp these lessons, but by the time I founded the First Merchant Bank of London, I was quite possibly the happiest man in all of England."

Holly smiled.

"What a thing to say."

"It was true. At least, for a while. I was too distracted with work to notice anything else, but then… my old companion came back. I was unsatisfied, angry, and annoyed."

Holly's brow creased.

"Why?"

Gavin shook his head.

"I'm not certain, actually. I thought it was stagnation. I was simply bored with my life, with my work. So, once the bank began turning a profit and I wasn't needed on the floor, I decided to start traveling. A bit of wanderlust cured me, and for the last five years, I've gone all around the world." He sighed, and though he didn't say it, Holly could sense he was unsure. "But even that has lost its luster over time. Strange, as I never thought it would."

Perhaps that was why he seemed so unbothered by their current circumstances. He had needed a change and life had presented him with one.

She wanted to ask him more about that but wasn't sure if she should, so she changed the direction of their conversation.

"And your relationship with Marnie? Has that improved since your childhood?"

He shrugged.

"She loves me, though she's a misguided, miserable old bat. I suppose I love her too on some level. But isn't that the way of it sometimes with family? You can love them, but not like them." Holly could certainly attest to that. "Still, I've never wasted any time trying to make Aunt Marnie happy. The woman is perpetually upset, and I stopped trying to rectify that a long time ago." He stared at Holly, and she shivered. "You can't force people to change."

"No, you can't."

He smirked.

"But I'm a sight more pleasant than her, aren't I?"

Holly smiled back at him and let out a soft laugh.

"Yes, you are."

The pair stared at each other for a moment longer, and Gavin opened his mouth just as Katrina and Violet entered the room, followed by a young woman with bright red hair dressed in a grey gown with a white apron tied around her waist.

"Oh Holly, have you seen this place? It's marvelous!" Katrina said, before turning to the woman behind her. "This is Anne. She said she'll be seeing to us while we're here."

The maid stepped forward and curtsied.

"My lady."

"Hello," Holly replied.

"This house is rather strangely styled, isn't it?" Violet asked as her eyes drifted up. Her head tilted to the side. "My word…"

"Ah yes, it's certainly something," Holly said, standing up. Arms outstretched; she herded the girls out. "Why don't we go have Anne show us to our rooms, shall we?"

"Did you hear all that howling?" Katrina asked over her shoulder to Gavin. "I wonder if it was the cat making all that noise."

"Ah, yes. I forgot about her bad back," Gavin said to himself before speaking up. "Her name is Miss Marnie Winscombe. She is my aunt and unfortunately she's invited herself to stay here for an undisclosed amount of time."

"Really?" Katrina said, looking at Holly. "I thought John's sister had died."

"She is very much alive," Holly said, shooing the girls towards the door. "Now, let's go find our rooms," she said as they reached the doorway. She turned. "Goodnight."

"Good night, Holly," he said, raising his glass as if to toast her as she left.