After the Scandal (45 page)

*   *   *

Desperation colored his voice—a raw emotion that he took pains never to show. “Claire. You must know how I feel. You must. I told you.”

“You told me you wanted to protect me.”

“I do. Desperately.”

“But do you love me?”

“Desperately.”

Claire put her finger up to her chin. “Ah.”

“Ah?”

“Yes. Ah.
Desperately
. Being desperately in love is something altogether different from being merely in love.”

“
Different
as in better, or merely different?”

“Better. Desperately better. Infinitely better.”

“Better.” Breath seemed to be filling his lungs again. “Better is better.”

“Infinitely so.” She took pity upon him, and smiled at him, and enlaced her fingers with his, so he would know unequivocally how she felt. So she could draw him nearer.

Near enough to kiss, softly and solemnly on the corner of his mouth, where she knew he liked it. But still, he needed to be sure.

“So have you decided whether you will do me the infinite honor and very great personal favor of becoming my wife?”

“Yes, I’m quite de—”

“Determined, yes. It is one of the things I admire excessively about you.”

“Do you?” She looked up at him, in that hopeful, guileless way that always, always absolutely slayed him.

“Yes. Desperately,” he added for good measure.

“Another compliment?”

“Yes.” He could only hope he did not look as stupid and juvenile and exposed and in love as he felt.

The corners of her wide blue eyes turned up ever so slightly. “Are you only saying that so I’ll kiss you?”

Tanner felt his breath go quiet. “Would it work?”

“I think it might.” The pleasure transferred from the corners of her eyes to the corners of her mouth. Her blue eyes lightened and sharpened and danced as her gaze fell from his face to his lips—she wanted to kiss him.

And he wanted to kiss her. With heat and passion and all the pent-up desire he had kept so savagely behind his wall of restraint.

Her voice was an encouraging whisper. “Is this better?”

“Oh, God, yes.” His own voice cracked a little, as if it were under a great strain, and had finally giving way. “Yes. Please.”

He kissed her then. A wholehearted, nothing-held-back, pick-her-up-and-walk-her-into-the-sunset sort of kiss that would not keep for later. He kissed her hair, and inhaled the lovely scent that was her, as if they were just a fellow and his lass lost in the simple pleasure of each other’s company.

Lost to everything of the world but themselves. Not as if he were a duke and she his duchess—although he was surer than ever that he was about to make that plan a reality—but as if they were simply people who had chosen to be together for no other reason than mutual company and pleasure.

A new feeling welled within him. A feeling he had not felt since the day his sister had married her captain, and put her hands on Tanner’s face, and looked him in the eye, and said it was over—that they were safe.

They hadn’t been really, for safety was a mutable, fickle thing, but he had believed her then. And she had been partially right; he had never been that cold, or that desperate, or that hungry again. But he had been lonely. And lonelier still.

But not this morning. Not now. Not ever again.

He had always watched her—watched the inestimable Lady Claire’s beautiful wide blue eyes sparkle, and her glowing porcelain face light with smiles for others. He had followed the bright shine of her golden blond hair as she had twirled and whirled around the dance floor with other, more worthy, less guileful men.

But now she was real, and his.

Tanner wasn’t worthy of her, of course, his self-possessed swan. He was only an accidental aspirant to her world—an interloper who would never really feel at home in their glittering mansions and on their palatial estates. Even when the palatial estate in question was ostensibly his own.

But his swan would guide him, as she did now. “May we please go get married now? Surely you’re rich and influential enough for that special license. Or are you a flat with the ecclesiastical crowd?”

“A complete flat. You’ll have to manage it for us, my duchess.”

“My duke. My Tanner.”

“Yes.” He took her by the hand and led her toward her carriage, and felt, for the first time in a very, very long time since he had become a man and understood all the responsibilities and people who depended upon him day after day, as if all were right with the world. As if there were nothing more he could hope or wish for.

“Should you like to get married straightaway, or wait, to show the world the lofty Duke of Fenmore answers to no man, and will not be rushed, but does things in his own sweet time?”

She was teasing him, smiling up at him with her open, guileless face, and he could only smile back. “Right away. I should like to begin telling the world you are my duchess straightaway. Especially your father. I don’t expect he has liked a delay in clearing your name.”

“My father will like what I like. And I think my father and his countess— Oh, I shall outrank my own mother.How very odd. I hadn’t thought about being a duchess.”

“Then you shall be different and eccentric duchess and do as you like.”

“Yes. And I think we should get married as soon as possible, in a few days, or a week’s time, only so my mother can order up enough ribbons and white soup for a wedding celebration that will not cause a scandal.”

Tanner took a deep, easy breath. It was remarkable how he stopped thinking when he was around Claire. He had always thought such a thing—to not think—would be a disadvantage, a hindrance to his life. But now it felt like a much-needed respite.

Such a respite that he wanted to kiss her still. He wanted to consume her whole. He wanted to revel in the remarkable fact that she was so much more than the porcelain doll he would have painted her to be. He was the luckiest man in Christendom to have Lady Claire Jellicoe at his side, accepting him for who he really was, not a cardboard cutout of a Duke.

He pulled her closer and kissed her forehead, but said nothing else as they made their way through the night, just as he had said last night, like a fellow and his girl with nothing but love to feed themselves.

Epilogue

The wedding of Lady Claire Jellicoe and His Grace the Duke of Fenmore did not, as it ought, take place deep in the bosom of society at St. George’s, Hanover Square. Instead, the marriage of the season, of the popular and only daughter of an earl to the enigmatic and aloof duke, was celebrated in the less rarefied but comfortable confines of Mayfair Chapel, directly across the street from Sanderson House.

He had done her the honor and courtesy of courting her openly, of walking with her in Hyde Park or Green Park every afternoon, and chatting only with her at every soiree, ball, and rout. He intimidated hostesses into seating her next to him, and he ignored the entirety of the other company, as he had done for years, and talked and looked and smiled only for her.

He was, he heard them say, a new man. A man utterly besotted.

A man in love.

He did not mind. Nor did he correct them. For they were entirely correct. He was a new man.

And he and Claire would make something new between them. And he would have her in his house, to have and to hold. To kiss, and to do many other various and erotic things as well.

Both the chapel and Sanderson House were abloom with flowers—even the wrought-iron gate fronting Curzon Street was decorated so gaily that the street was nearly overrun with gawkers. But not only society came to gape and celebrate the unlikely nuptials—the pavement outside the venerable old church was crowded with the oddest and unlikeliest collection of revelers anyone could ever remember seeing.

Street thieves and beggars, highwaymen and magistrates alike shared the pavement until the crowd swelled so large, Curzon Street became impassable. And in further defiance of custom, the bride and groom did not retreat in solitude to the opulent fortress of Fenmore House but threw the grounds open for a masked ball, where Tanner Evans, ninth Duke of Fenmore, astonished the world by doing what he had never, ever done before.

He danced with his bride.

He kissed her hand, and led her out upon the lawn where a patchwork parquet floor had been laid, and he swept the new Duchess of Fenmore into a waltz so close and sensual and flagrantly romantic that dowagers standing by the sides of the floor fell unconscious in swooning faints.

But the duke and duchess never noticed. Tanner and Claire were too busy making up for lost time. Too busy making the promise between their hearts and their bodies sing its way from the present all the way to tomorrow.

He had stolen her fair and square, and he had managed to keep her, though it had taken every last ounce of stealth and guile and luck that he had ever possessed. But she, with all her innocence and simple, honest grace and desperate bravery, had proved more larcenous than he, for she had well and truly stolen away his heart.

Author’s Note

The characters in my Reckless Brides books tend to come from other books I have written: Secondary characters in one book are destined to become the heroes or heroines of the next. This is doubly true of
After the Scandal.
Readers of my previous books will have met our hero, Tanner, before. The story of how he and his sister, Meggs, lived as thieves in London is found in my RITA-nominated book,
The Danger of Desire.
Our heroine, Claire Jellicoe, was first introduced to readers as a secondary character in the story of her brother Will Jellicoe and his true love, Antigone Preston, in the award-winning book
A Breath of Scandal.
The story of Will’s navy service is found in
Almost a Scandal.
The story of how Claire’s other brothers, Thomas Jellicoe and James Jellicoe, Viscount Jeffrey, find their happily ever afters is found in
Scandal in the Night.

Also by

Elizabeth Essex

Almost a Scandal

Breath of Scandal

Scandal in the Night

Praise for ELIZABETH ESSEX’s

Reckless Brides series

Almost a Scandal

“Essex will have readers longing to set sail alongside her daring heroine and dashing hero. This wild ride of a high-seas adventure/desire-in-disguise romance has it all: nonstop action, witty repartee, and deft plotting. From the bow to the mast, from battles to ballrooms, Essex delivers another reckless bride and another read to remember.”

—RT Book Reviews

“Elizabeth Essex will dazzle you with her sophisticated blend of vivid historical detail, exquisite characterization, and delicious sexual tension.
Almost a Scandal
is a breathtaking tale of rapturous romance and awe-inspiring adventure!”

—
USA Today
bestselling author Julianne MacLean

“Elizabeth Essex writes the perfect blend of fast-paced adventure and deliciously sexy romance. I couldn’t put this book down!
Almost a Scandal
gets a place on my keeper shelf—I will read anything Elizabeth Essex writes!”

—
New York Times
bestselling author Celeste Bradley

“The first book in the Reckless Brides Trilogy is a seafarer’s delight. Col and Sally’s high-stakes adventure is fast-paced and fraught with peril. Well-timed humor punctuates the action and the use of frigate-speak adds authenticity to the shipboard dialogue. The love story teases the reader at first, as Col and Sally struggle to conceal their attraction onboard the
Audacious
. Then things turn desperate when the circumstances of war seem intent on driving them apart. A smartly written, emotional tempest.”

—Reader to Reader Reviews

“Elizabeth Essex has created a fascinating world peopled with fascinating characters. I didn’t want this story to end, and with the promise of more books in this series, it doesn’t have to.
Almost a Scandal
is a joy to read.”

—
Fresh Fiction

“Ms. Essex delivers romance at its finest: adventure-packed, passion-filled, and totally satisfying. Teeming with adventure, passion, sexual tension, secrets, scandal, witty banter, romance, and love, this story is a delight and a definite keeper.”

—Romance Junkies

About The Author