Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

L ouise was led into a room filled with men. A few women of her class, perhaps wives and mothers, were also seated at intervals throughout the room, but it was a masculine and pompous environment.

She was approached by a servant almost immediately as she took off her coat, and she ordered a glass of sherry while she waited. She was painfully aware of several eyes turning to stare at her and hovered awkwardly in the doorway, unsure what to do.

The room itself was decorated exquisitely, and no expense had been spared on the furnishings. A few card tables were scattered throughout the room, their dark green tops and mahogany surrounds giving the space a sophisticated air.

It was a long room, reaching back through an archway where more tables were visible. Men sat in armchairs, reading newspapers or conversing quietly. Louise released a slow breath when her drink arrived, and her fingers clutched at the glass desperately as she tried to appear as though she belonged there.

Lifting her chin, she walked between the tables, trying to affect the same disdain that Christian radiated wherever he went.

One table in particular caught her eye as she passed it. There was a man at the head of it, with a set of cards in his hands, which he was examining with his quizzing glass. She moved to the arched doorway ahead of her, and when the man seemed to think she was out of earshot, he leaned toward his companion.

“The Iron Harridan has arrived, Sir. The Duke has allowed her out to play, it seems.”

His companion snorted loudly, glancing over at Louise. She met his gaze steadily. He did not look in the least embarrassed to have been caught gossiping about her.

I wonder what Christian would say if I told him to throw him out.

She continued on, but the second room was far worse than the first. Many of the patrons glanced over their newspapers at her as she walked by, and several began to whisper. The sounds grew louder as she reached the fireplace and took a seat for lack of anything better to do. She curled her fingers into the skirts of her gown, nervous about the new rumors being spread about her.

“I wondered when she would show her face,” said a portly man at a chair a few feet from her. The volume of his voice was not appropriate for conversation in such a closed space. “Her father still owes me fifty pounds from the last time he played the tables at White’s. I wonder if the Duke is shouldering the burden of paying off Northbridge’s debts.”

Louise seethed quietly and sipped her sherry, her fingers clenching into a fist.

Did no one have any ounce of respect anymore? Was she forever to be tarnished by her father’s vices?

“He overlooked the burden of taking her on in the first place,” said the man’s companion. “I hear Fortescue had bruising for weeks after she assaulted him. It was bad form, and she deserves everything she gets. The Northbridges should count themselves lucky to have the Duke’s patronage.”

Louise stood up abruptly. Both men stopped speaking, and she walked slowly toward them, holding her glass loosely in her hand.

I’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“Good evening, Lord Mortimer,” she said evenly. “What a pleasure to see you again.”

Lord Mortimer eyed her warily, his neck turning a dark shade of red as the other man— was his name Armitage?— attempted to sink into his chair.

“I am so pleased to see you here tonight,” Louise continued. “My husband has told me a great many things about the game you played with my father some weeks ago.”

Both men stared at her in astonishment, but she had been the subject of gossip and slander for long enough. The rage burning beneath her skin could not be quelled by propriety.

“It is interesting to me, therefore, to hear you speaking so ill of my family,” she said softly, keeping her voice low, her eyes on Lord Mortimer. “I understand you had offered a princely sum for my hand. Strange, then, that you believe my family name is worthless.”

Lord Mortimer cleared his throat several times, his eyes dark and angry.

“Is there anything amiss?”

Louise spun around to find the Duke of Stonewell, the man behind the bull mask at the masquerade ball, standing before her. He was not looking at her, however. His cold glare was fixed on Mortimer and Armitage.

“Are you making a nuisance of yourself again, Armitage?” he drawled. “Because you have already been given a warning.”

“I was having a private conversation with my friend here, and the lady interrupted us. That is hardly my fault,” Armitage spluttered in outrage.

“Private conversations aren’t usually held within earshot, are they?” Louise asked, sipping her sherry. “I do not think you quite understand what it means to hold your tongue.”

Armitage and Mortimer leaned forward in their chairs to protest most violently, but the Duke of Stonewell cleared his throat and stepped between them and Louise.

“Duchess, perhaps I might introduce you to my sister before you come to blows with the whole of the club,” he offered stiffly and held out a hand to show her the way.

Louise shot Mortimer another baleful glare before following the Duke.

I suppose I have not helped my reputation by speaking my mind, but I will not be slandered by idiotic men who see themselves as superior to me.

The Duke of Stonewell followed her out of the room and led her to a smaller antechamber where the smoke was not quite so thick. In the corner of the room sat a young woman about Louise’s age, her long dark hair tied around her head with a multitude of ribbons and sparkling pins. She looked up as they entered and smiled politely as her brother approached her. She rose, and Louise was struck by how tall she was. She was strikingly beautiful, and the smile on her face was broad and genuine.

“Charlotte, this is the Duchess of Egerton. Duchess, this is my sister, Lady Charlotte Harding.”

The two women curtsied to one another as Charlotte glanced at her brother quizzically.

“What is the matter?” she asked, a slight frown creasing her brow. “You look as though you have swallowed a wasp.”

The Duke of Stonewell’s stern expression did not change much, but he shot his sister a withering look before turning to Louise. “I am sorry for what they said, Duchess,” he said stiffly. “But you cannot confront our members in such a manner without good warning.”

Louise’s heart pattered wildly at being admonished, but then the Duke continued.

“We need to ensure that we have the right security to eject them at such moments. If you give me notice in advance, I can be fully prepared to throw them out for their impertinence.”

There was a hint of humor in his voice, but his mouth was stern and angry, his eyes cold. Louise wondered if he ever smiled at all. Many men of his age had laughter lines and faint wrinkles around their mouths, but his face was smooth.

He really was quite intimidating.

“Was someone being rude to you?” Charlotte asked, looking just as irritated as her brother. “Who was it? We must tell Christian.”

“I will tell him,” the Duke insisted. “I have brought the Duchess here so that she can be out of their company for a time. Please entertain her while I see what is keeping Christian.”

He stalked out, his sister watching him with thinly veiled exasperation.

“I do not know why he is surprised by members of this club being high-handed and rude. He is just as bad as them.”

Louise laughed at that.

Charlotte grinned at her. “Were they terribly rude to you?”

“It was not so bad. My reputation precedes me, I think.”

“Ha! You should spend some time with the women in my circle, Your Grace. I can assure you, your reputation is deemed a triumph, not something to be derided.”

Louise searched Charlotte’s face for any hint of sarcasm. “Is that so?”

“Absolutely. Men will always be horrified when a woman defends herself. I thought it was marvelous.”

“I did break his nose.”

“Yes, and seeing as Lord Fortescue enjoys looking down it so much, I hope it has made his entire perspective crooked.”

Louise was laughing so hard now. She had not interacted with the Duke of Stonewell often, but his sister seemed to be the absolute opposite of him—she lit up the room.

The two ladies settled in their chairs, and Charlotte eyed Louise’s glass.

“Is that sherry? What an excellent idea.” She called over a waiter to order herself a glass and then sat back in her chair, studying Louise with some interest. “If you don’t mind my asking, what is being married to the Duke of Egerton like? I have known him for some time.”

“And…?”

“Oh, Christian is one of my favorite people in the world, but I would not wish to be married to him.” Charlotte paused, swallowing hard. “Not to say… Sorry, that was rather crass.”

Louise chuckled. “Not at all. It is rather refreshing to hear another lady speak her mind. It has been… interesting, so far. I suppose you know the circumstances of our marriage?”

“A little. But it is not my business. My brother says you are terribly sensible and will straighten Christian right out—and he is rarely wrong.”

Louise hesitated, strangely touched by those words. “Thank you… I think.”

“ Must you make a nuisance of yourself in my club?”

Louise turned to see Christian striding into the room. His hair looked less perfect than usual, a lock falling over his forehead. She stared at it, a surprising pulse of heat rushing through her.

I wonder what he is truly like when that cold, prim facade falls away and he allows himself to let loose.

But then what he had just said registered, and her irritation flared.

“I have not been making a nuisance of myself,” she said icily. “I have been explaining to the members of your club why they are not permitted to ridicule me.”

Christian’s eyes narrowed. “Ridicule you?”

“Yes, me and my father.”

Christian glanced at the door, his face darkening. “Who were they?” he barked.

“It is clearly no matter, considering I was making a nuisance of myself.”

“Good evening, Christian,” Charlotte said hastily, looking between them with deep amusement. “I very much approve of your wife.”

Christian turned to her with such irritation on his face that Louise recoiled at it, but Charlotte simply met his gaze with a wan smile.

“Excuse me, Charlotte, I would like to have a word with my wife .”

And without any warning, he gripped Louise’s arm and dragged her out of the room.

“Let go of me this instant,” Louise protested as Christian led her through the club.

He avoided overly occupied rooms, finally veering down a narrow corridor and toward a private room. It was a room that he and Gabriel had used when they first opened the club and needed a place where no one could find them.

He dragged her inside and closed the door behind him.

She wrenched her arm free, huffing. “Is this any way to treat your wife?”

Christian rounded on her, the anger he had kept at bay until now bubbling to the surface. “What on earth are you doing here, Louise? It is past midnight. I was about to head home when Gabe told me you had turned up unannounced.”

“Am I not allowed to enter your club?”

“I would prefer that you did not travel across London in the dead of night to do so, certainly. Anything could have happened to you!” he shouted.

“So, I am to remain in the house until you give me permission to leave it, is that it?” she snapped.

“Of course not, that is not what I said!” He lowered his voice. “Was there a reason you came?”

“Other than the fact that you left me alone in the house tonight? That we have been married for less than two days, and you have left for your club on both of them?”

“This is my business!” he argued.

“And I am not?” she thundered. “No matter what you choose to believe, Christian, you have taken a wife, and you cannot ignore me forever.”

He advanced on her, his expression morphing into a scowl as she took a step back. She was frightened, but she seemed determined to stand her ground.

My fiery harridan will not be tamed easily.

She backed away further until her legs hit a high-back chair that faced the fire. Her body stiffened, and she threw her hands back, gripping the armrests tightly.

“And how am I ignoring you, wife? Did you miss me?” he asked, watching the anger blaze anew in her eyes.

Louise scoffed derisively. “I am alone in the house, Christian. Would you expect me to be happy with my own company forever?”

She truly is magnificent when she is furious with me.

Christian stepped forward and raised his hand, his fingers hovering over her hairline. He fought the urge for as long as he could, but eventually, he could resist no more and took a long, deep breath. Her scent surrounded him, like rosemary in the breeze—intoxicating and bewitching at once.

She shuddered as he closed the distance between them, his eyes roving over her body, lingering on her perfect breasts as they rose and fell with every harsh breath.

“Would you believe me if I told you I missed you too?” he asked, his hand skimming over her arm and up toward her neck.

Louise tensed as he tucked a loose strand behind her ear.

“Do not ruin my hair, Christian,” she warned. “It took my maid hours to style it, and I am not walking out of this club looking like… ” She flushed beautifully, and his heart soared at the sight.

“Looking like what, Duchess? As though you have been ravished by your husband?” he purred. His hands moved down to her waist and pulled her against him roughly, making her shiver. “Are you sure you do not want them to see you flushed and undone at my hand?”

Their noses brushed as he rested his forehead against hers. Louise was breathing heavily, her hands slowly moving from the armrests to grasp his forearms. Christian felt the satisfying bite of victory as her fingers tightened around him.

I must have her. I cannot hold back any longer!

Slowly, his hand moved down her body.

“I can feel you shaking,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Just say the word, and I will take you right here. You will experience all of the beauty that can exist between us without the risk of producing an heir, I assure you.”

“Y-You will unhand me,” she stuttered, leaning backward as his hands came up to support her.

A fierce longing welled up within him then. He wanted her to confess how much she desired him. Her body and her eyes showed it, but her expression was forever shuttered and cold—it was maddening.

“You’ll have to tell me you do not want me, Duchess,” he said, leaning back to look at her. Her eyes were such a glorious shade of blue.

Only the crackling of the fire broke the silence. Christian waited, the weight of her hands branding his skin, the pulsing heat between his legs impossible to endure.

“Tell me,” he demanded, uttering the words like a prayer.

When she remained silent, her eyes dark with lust, his patience snapped. He gripped her tightly, pulling her sideways and walking her backward until her back hit the wall.

She let out a small cry of shock as he gripped her wrists in his hands and pinned them above her head, before he crushed his lips to hers and pressed his body against hers.

Louise let out a beautiful moan of surrender as she melted against him, going pliant and supple just as she had done before. Christian groaned, keeping one hand on her wrists as the other trailed down her body to grip her thigh.

He lifted her leg and thrust his hips forward, knowing from her shuddering cry that she could feel how much she was affecting him. He wanted to ruin her, consume her, and show the world that she belonged to him.

He thrust his hips forward again, his hand moving down her thigh and toward the sweet heat between her legs. But just as he did so, the promise he had made to her echoed in his mind like a warning. With a groan of frustration, he released her, slapping his palms against the wall and pushing himself off her.

He turned away and breathed deeply, trying to compose himself, ashamed that he had been moments from taking her against the wall.

What kind of man must she think me to be when I cannot even control myself or keep my promises?

“Christian?”

“You should leave,” he snapped, straightening his clothes, his breeches painfully tight against his groin.

“Wh-What?”

He whirled around and closed the space between them once again. There were fading red marks around her wrists and a fire in her eyes.

“If you do not leave this room this instant,” he gritted out, “I will not be able to keep my word. I will take you just as I want you—right here, right now—and the whole club will know what we have been doing.” He sucked in a sharp breath, inhaling her scent and closing his eyes against the need raging inside him. He wrenched himself away from her. “I will escort you out.”