Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

T he billiards room was empty of lords who would usually be sharpening sticks and rolling billiard balls over green baize. Presently, only his uncle stood, hands clasped behind his back, while staring out of a large, mullioned window.

Shutting the door behind him, William acknowledged the old man. “We are here, Uncle.”

The earl turned, and William saw a tremor of apprehension run over the man’s face, but it vanished in the next breath. His cool gaze traced over Bridget slowly, not in a judgmental way, but assessing . He then addressed William.

“Why do I doubt that this meek mouse of a lady is the one you truly want, nephew?”

“She is neither meek nor a mouse, Uncle,” William replied while guiding Bridget to a chair. “And I would appreciate it if you would refrain from categorizing her as either.”

“I see,” Ambrose murmured, then turned to Bridget. “Are you aware of the notable history my nephew has accumulated in the past years?”

“I am aware, yes, your lordship,” Bridget replied carefully. “He has not told me anything specific, but I do know.”

“So, you know he is a wastrel and a rake.”

“I would object to wastrel but yes, I am fully aware he is a rake,” Bridget responded. “However, he is not completely lost. Why do you press the issue, my lord?”

“Because I want you to be aware of the truth of your impending marriage,” Ambrose said calmly. “Listen to me: the reformation of rakes is the stuff of fiction. In real life, a pretty girl can no more change a man’s heart than a leopard can change its own spots. You will have to hold the supernatural powers of a saint to deal with him.”

A rumble of irritation brewed under William’s breastbone. “Are you implying that I will not hold to my vows, Uncle?”

“Will you?” Ambrose asked genially. “I do have my doubts, but let us see if this wallflower can perform a divine miracle and get you to toe the lines in the sand. I do hope you prove me wrong, son, and do right by your name, title, bloodline, and this genteel lady standing before me.”

He headed for the door, then paused, and twisted his head over his shoulder. “I will be watching.”

When the door closed, William let out a long breath, crossed the room, and found a bottle of brandy on a shelf, then poured out a glass. Throwing his head back, he swallowed the finger of drink, then pressed the crystal to his temple.

“God’s blood, that man irks me to no end,” he murmured, coming around and slumping into a chair. “I am sorry if he insulted you.”

“Thank you, but to your credit, you corrected him quickly,” she said quietly. “I am used to people underestimating me and determining the substance of my character after looking at me only once.”

“But you should not have to be so accustomed to it,” William replied straightly. “I had hoped my uncle would have kept his opinions closer to his chest, but he did the opposite.”

Reaching over to him, she touched his arm, “I think I could say the same thing about you.”

“Can you?” he asked dryly. “I am indeed a rake, a rogue, a devil amongst men. The Beast of Brookhaven. It is why I have always been incredibly careful about never finding myself in the company of young ladies alone.”

“The news sheets were not entirely wrong then?” she asked.

“Oh, they’re right,” he nodded. “There were amplifications at times, but I will accede to the truth in the middle of the inventions. I am most definitely a rake,” he boasted. “I enjoy the companionship of women, but in particular, worldly women, not innocents.”

“ Companionship ,” she noted, hardly believing she was having such a conversation with him of all people. “That’s a very subtle way of putting it.”

“I don’t wish to discomfit your sensitive sensibilities.”

“Thank you. I do not want to be embarrassed either, but that does not mean I am not aware of who you are,” Bridget replied quietly. “I only ask that during our courtship, you do not parade these companions before me.”

“There will be no need,” he said, “I go to them; they do not come to me,” his mind ran to Lady Rosa, but he decided to deal with that arrangement and her in time. “I shall be applying for a special license tomorrow morning, and by the end of this week, we shall be wed.”

Her head snapped up. “That quickly?”

“I won’t allow any more rumors to spread,” he declared softly, standing to set the crystal aside. “Now, I think it's time for our last waltz.”

The moment William whirled her onto the floor, Bridget had the unsettling feeling that her life would never be the same—but would it be for the better or the worse, she did not know.

The waves of murmurs that crested through the room surpassed the crowd’s earlier response and even those already on the dance floor gawked shamelessly. The violins leaped to life and the beautiful strains filled the ballroom. He took her into his arms as they soared around the room together.

William’s eyes were fixed on her, and it was a credit to his dancing master that he never missed a step. “Keep your eyes on me, Bridget. Do not give those harpies any flicker of discontent.”

“I do not think I should be overly happy either,” she whispered somberly. “As I have seen in the past few days, they will do anything to cast ignominy on my name. You, however, seem impervious.”

“My reputation precedes me,” William replied. “I have stained my name so filthily, there is not a spot left to sully. Believe me when I say, when we separate, I will heap all the blame upon myself. You will be unvilified.”

She knew she had to say something, but instead, she stared at him helplessly, so many feelings writhing inside—she was unable to separate them into any semblance of clarity.

He swung her, and she twirled, and the heat of his hands on her lower back burned through her gown. The rest of society faded as they stared into each other’s gazes, never once breaking.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he spoke softly as he steered them through the crowded floor.

She was quiet. “I don’t know.”

“Are you worried about the marriage?” he asked. “What I’ll ask of you?”

“Partially,” she admitted. “I’m not really afraid of what your uncle will say when we separate, if and how we’ll find my brother, and what I’ll do after all this is done…” She shook her head, trailing off. “I’m rather afraid of myself, to be honest.”

William glanced down; confusion raw in his gaze. He twirled her expertly, steered them around another couple, and then pulled her close again. “Of yourself? Why?”

“You have an extraordinary talent to muddle my thoughts when I am near you,” she confessed breathily.

“Are you saying that my seduction is working?” he grinned like a wolf.

“No,” she lied. “I have not turned into a ninny with nothing but cotton and lace between her ears, I just find myself double-guessing my actions with you.”

He twirled her again. “Do you want a confession of my own?” He drew in a little closer and lowered his voice to a breath, “I have never wanted a woman as badly as I want you.”

Was it fair of him to tell her this?

“Really?”

“Real enough to keep me awake, several nights in a row. Real enough to cause me to think of nothing but you, even when other women are readily available. Real enough to be… painful at times,” William admitted.

Searching his eyes for a moment, Bridget frowned. “You speak the truth.”

“I don’t make it a habit to lie,” he replied, as the music swelled.

“Meaning you would twist the truth if need be,” she remarked as he took them in a swirl of turns that spun the dresses on the sideline into a swirl of colors. When they finally stopped, her skirts flared and brushed William’s trousers. Her lashes swept up. “You still have not detailed what the… erm… marriage duties… you would like from me to be.”

“We can talk about those in the carriage,” William smiled, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. He thumbed over her knuckles. “I’ll need to find a ring too.”

“They are staring again,” she whispered.

He slid his fingers between hers and pulled her off the dance floor and up the stairs. Crossing the foyer, he drew her into his side, then got her coat from a footman while his carriage came around.

The carriage rumbled to a halt in front of the majestic house, and he helped her inside. The moment the door closed, he tugged his jacket free and dropped it to the side bench.

Without indication or warning, he hauled her into his lap. “May I finally kiss you the way I want?”

“I—” She paused. “I suppose.”

She tensed, but his lips were gentle and brushed over hers first, a ghost of butterfly wings, time and again, coaxing a response. His mouth found hers, his lips soft.

Bravely, Bridget nipped his bottom lip and suckled over it, as his arm surrounded hers and cupped her nape, bringing her even closer. His tongue ran over the seam of her mouth and when her lips parted, he took the invitation to sweep his tongue against hers.

At first contact, she pulled her tongue away, but soon enough, she rubbed hers alongside his in gentle, slow strokes. Tender and erotic , the kiss allowed her natural sensuality time to overcome her shyness.

He drew away to let her breathe, then, like an injured animal, he groaned softly and dove back in, hungrily devouring her mouth. Bridget melted into his arms, entranced by the wicked sensations pouring through her body.

Parting from her lips, he dropped kisses along her jaw, then pressed his lips to the hollow below her ear lobe, and she shivered with sudden, fierce delight.

“God, that felt good,” he sighed. “As for your duties, it is both complicated and simple at the same time. You will have control of the house, but please, no renovations for the few rooms that are in use. Until I gain the inheritance my uncle is holding onto, things like a new wardrobe and jewels are out of the question.

“My small staff consists of my valet who takes on the butler role from time to time, a crotchety cook named Mrs. Crickstaff, two maids, and two footmen. I have two friends who have the worst habit of dropping in unannounced so do not be afraid if they come along.”

She nodded, biting her lip. “Anything else?”

“I know you are waiting to hear the most important one,” he breathed. “As I previously stated, no , you will not have to do wifely duties in the bedroom with me, but we will have to show affection in public… Though, if you do choose, we can explore a little intimacy,” William replied, tucking a lock of hair from her eyes. “However, at no point will I attempt to divest you of your virginity… unless you want it of me.”

Gently extricating herself from his hold and retaking her previous seat, she asked, “Do you honestly think anyone will want to marry me after we separate?”

“Yes,” William replied. “But only if you choose to marry. I am sure the funds I will give you will suffice to take care of you for the rest of your life.”

“Why was it made that you did not have your inheritance?” Bridget asked.

“My father passed when I was in my first year of Oxford, and I had not reached the age of majority then, so my uncle stepped in as caretaker. When I did get to one-and-twenty, I was given a fifty-thousand-pound allowance, but then I came to find out that my father had left a provision in his will that I would only get my inheritance, a sum of a million pounds and a few businesses, when I marry.”

Briget’s eyes widened to dinner plates upon hearing the sum. A mere fifty pounds was a fortune to her and the thought of a million pounds made gooseflesh burst over her skin.

“W-what happened to the fifty thousand?” Her voice was hushed in shock.

“I blew through it all like it was paper,” he admitted. “Drinking, betting, paying for companionship . I was a scoundrel back then.”

“You still are,” she mentioned.

He snorted. “Touché.”

“What about your debts?” she asked.

His eyes sharpened. “I’m taking care of those.”

His tone broke no leeway for her to press the issue, so she changed topics. “What about your mother? Is she present in your life?”

Rubbing his eyes, he said, “Mother is away from my mess, she lives up North, in the countryside of Carlisle as a merry Dowager. She writes and visits me once or twice a year, but she is not overbearing or pressuring me to marry.”

“But now you need to,” she affirmed.

“Yes.” The carriage broke free of London’s traffic and was running free to Lady Eleanor’s town home.

They slipped silently and the only sounds were the trundle of the carriage wheels, as she felt his gaze trail over her person. “I feel as if I have crushed a dream of yours, haven’t I? You seem to be the sort of lady who dreamed of her prince, a virtuous man who would shower you with love and affection.”

“Yes, once upon a time ,” she picked at her skirts. “But when our lives took a sudden turn and reality came knocking, I realized how fragile wealth and comfort are. I still do hope for love, but I will always choose comfort and ease over the toil of hardship. And isn’t that a horrible thing to say.”

“No, it is practical,” he attested. “Society has always made it clear that the appropriate match has everything to do with proper breeding and money, but then Minerva Press and their novels have added romance and love to the equation, making ladies wanting all four.

“The truth is, only a fraction of those seeking a partner can find all four, and most will have to settle for two. One can either get wealth and comfortability or love and a mediocre life,” William replied. “It is rare that one can have both, though I have heard of a few.”

“One can only hope,” she replied quietly, glancing out of the window to see the townhouse approaching. “But I know the wisdom of being practical instead of holding onto a dream.”

“Most people in the ton have no notion of seeking an alliance based on tender feelings. Their union is one of mutual convenience, respect, and honor to each other,” William replied. “I should know, my parents had that sort of union.”

Dropping her eyes to her lap, Bridget did not know how tactfully to ask the question brewing in her heart, so she did the best she could. “What would happen if… attraction played into the equation?”

A strange look crossed over William’s face before his expression turned salacious. He leaned in, “Sweetheart, is that your roundabout way of telling me you’re attracted to me?”

Her eyes lowered to half-mast, “I think you already know the answer to that.”

“I do,” he grinned, and the shadows that crossed his face made him look lecherous. “But I would like to hear you say it.”

“You are arrogant, a lothario, insidiously charming, and decided on ruining your life, but yes…” she paused. “I am attracted to you. You might not know this, but that night in the alley… you had taken my first kiss.”

The carriage came to the doorway of the lady’s house, and William descended before her to assist her down, but before handing her over to the waiting footman, kissed her cheek, then murmured in her ear, voice husky, “Let us see how many more firsts we can cross off the list.”