His to Keep (Regency Scoundrels Book 2) (17 page)

BOOK: His to Keep (Regency Scoundrels Book 2)
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Satisfied with her pledge, he drew away from her. She gave him a disappointed look. “Now, I can feel the coolness of the cabin.”

“I could return to you and warm you up, but we do not have the time. There will be time for us to partake of some more pleasurable activities when we reach our final destination.”

“Then, you aren’t going to ravish me?”

“In time, my dear, in time.”

 

Chapter Twenty-Two

 

Gemma watched him from the bed.

Archie was going through a trunk on the far side of the cabin for her clothing, no doubt.

He emerged holding the same riding habit that she had been wearing the day they met. She looked at him and then at the garment he held.

“You seem fond of that one.”

“I am,” he admitted softly. “Red is your color.” 

“Red is my favorite color. It fills me with confidence.”  

“I’m staying right here.”

“You’re insane!” she blurted out, her cheeks reddening so that they matched the color of the riding costume he held. 

“I think not.”

“You don’t honestly expect me to change in front of you, do you?”

“I will be getting dressed as well. We need to set off soon, I’m sure Isla will be bringing us breakfast within a few short minutes, and then, it is off for some land travel. I might not have time to ravish you today, but know this, I shall not wait much longer. You entice me, Gemma. You entice me to do some wonderfully naughty things to you.”

His words thrilled her, and she attempted to remain calm beneath his constant perusal.

He walked over to her, and seeing that the cabin was equipped with a dressing screen, she hopped out of bed, put her riding costume over the top of the dressing screen and started to undress. What she hadn’t taken into account was the fact that she couldn’t get into her stay unassisted. Slipping her shift over her head, she took hold of the stay, and called for him. “You shall either have to help me with this, or summon Isla. I can’t lace it up on my own.”

She heard the sound of his feet clapping against the floor, as he walked toward her. His hands deftly worked with the stay. He was quite proficient with it, telling her that he’d probably helped many a loose woman with the removal of such an undergarment.

His hands briefly touched the nape of her neck when he gathered her hair up to put it over her shoulder. She bristled as his touch sent shivers through her.

“I would much rather be taking this item off than putting it on you,” he said a little hoarsely. “I should be given a medal for being able to do this without losing control.”

“You are a good and kindly husband,” she whispered.

“Aye, a husband who respects his wife,” his voice was even hoarser now. “Gads, I think I need some fresh air.”

“You are a most surprising man.”

“I know—sometimes, I even surprise myself.” With that strangled sounding statement, he left her and rushed from the cabin.

He had to be crazy. Something inside of him had snapped. He knew that. Why had he left Gemma? Visions of her scantily clad body kept surging through his mind. By the time they reached the castle, he would be almost out of his mind with the need to bed her. He couldn’t wait until he could touch her, kiss her, feel her—he dragged out another heavy sigh. Looking to the clear morning sky, he considered her change in demeanor. She was trying to lead him into something—he knew it, and yet he really didn’t give a damn. He had his own little tricks up his sleeve. If all went according to his plan, she would be with child within a few months, making her escape from him impossible. Once she was carrying his child, he doubted she would want to ever leave him.

And if she did, he would have full right to claim her, and his child.

*****

Gemma looked in the small cheval mirror the cabin boasted. She almost looked like herself. She couldn’t wait to take a good hot bath once they reached their destination. Where were they? Had they left England? She had been so out of it during the journey that time had escaped her. They could be in the West Indies for all she knew.

A soft knock sounded at the door.

Archie entered the room a few minutes later. “Are you quite prepared for the journey ahead?”

She looked at him, pausing, she considered his question. “I haven’t been prepared for anything that you’ve thrown at me so far. And I am quite weary of it all. I am tired of us being at odds.”

“Are you calling a truce?”

“Yes. You are my husband. I would like us to behave like a normal married couple.” Hunger gnawed at her, her stomach growled. He looked down at her stomach.

“Will you be able to survive until we reach our destination?” He smirked at her, his eyes dancing with humor.  “Isla wanted to bring us food, but the winds were on our side and we’ve gotten to our destination much faster than I expected. Indeed, she was grumbling all the while when I sent her away with her food tray.”

“How could you send her away with a tray of food? No matter. I will survive. A little bit of hunger isn’t going to stop me in my tracks. Besides, it’s better for me to travel on an empty stomach.”

“Indeed.” He extended his hand toward her. “Let us venture forth then.”

Before she knew it, they were off the ship and into a carriage. He was whisking her along so quickly that she barely had time to take in her surroundings. Though by what she saw, she greatly doubted they were in the West Indies, it hardly looked like a tropical environment.

She didn’t trust Archie. Knowing him, he had her right under Mallory’s nose. She sat beside him in the carriage, the interior was dimly lit by candles in the carriage sconces.

“When will you allow me to see Charles?”

“Not anytime soon. I don’t think the two of you will have anything of great consequence to say to each other, and besides, I don’t need you planning a great escape with him.”

“I will not leave you. I shall endeavor to be a good wife to you, Archie. Think of Duxford as a bad taste in my mouth, never to be tasted again.”

His body stiffened at her mention of Duxford, but once she had finished her sentence, his body relaxed. “You really mean that?”

“I have never been more convinced of something in my entire life. Now that I reflect upon Duxford’s attentions toward me, I can see what you mean. He treated me much differently than you do. When you touch me, I feel love in your caress. When he touched me—”

“You’ve gone far enough, my dear. I understand what you are trying to convey. You want me, and only me. I can’t tell you how much that thrills my heart. I will make you a happy woman.”

“I know you will,” his said, his voice low. 

She looked out the carriage window. “We aren’t in the West Indies, are we? Have we even left England?”

 

Archie avoided her question. “Ah, my beautiful wife—you never cease to dazzle me with your beauty.” He reached for her. She inched away from him.

“You are trying to distract me. I won’t be distracted. I want an answer, Archie. Where have you taken us?”

“We are on an Isle.”

She sighed. “With that sort of an answer, we could still be in England.”

“No.” He caught her arm, and pulled her toward him. “We aren’t in England, I give you my word on that. We are on a different island, a little smaller than England, actually.”

“You will be the death of me with your blatant disregard of what I want to know!”

“You don’t need to know where we are. Let me put your mind at rest by saying that I’ve taken you somewhere where your darling brother would never think of looking for you.”

Her mouth went dry. She tried to scoot to the other side of the carriage, but he reached for her and pulled her back. She landed painfully on the satin squabs.

“Why are you doing this to me? I’d like to sit on that side of the carriage.”

“And I would like for you to sit with me. I like the nearness of your body—don’t you think the atmosphere is most romantic?”

“If you think it is—then, it is. I am your wife and as your wife I always endeavor to agree with you.”

“Hang on, now—that’s not how you’re going to act around my mother is it?”

“You wanted me to act like we are living in harmony.”

“Harmony? She’ll know something is amiss when you start agreeing with me all of the time. No woman agrees with her husband all of the time, especially when said husband has my temperament.”

“According to many of the women in the ton, it is a wife’s sole obligation to believe everything that their husband tells them. They are to be their husband’s dutiful servant. They live to do their husband’s bidding. They obey without hesitation…”

“No. I don’t want you to be a bloody puppet.”

“Puppet? Is that what you think I would be, if I agreed with everything you had to say?”

“Yes. My mother will not believe that I would fall in love with such a simple addle-brained ninny. Don’t fret, I’ve had many of that sort of woman flaunted in front of me, and I never took the bait with any single one of them, much to my mother’s relief.”

“Thank you. Your mother sounds as if she is an impressive woman.”

“Impressive is quite the understatement.”

The carriage hit a few ruts in the road, sending her toppling forward. He reached for her, and pulled her toward him putting a secure arm around her. She sighed. “I will never get away from you, shall I?”

He answered her question with silence. Brooding silence, his eyes lingered a bit too long on her and it sent shivers rippling through her body. 

Cradled against him with his body warmth seeping into her, she started to feel sleepy. Yawning, she looked up at him.

“You look like you are going to nod off.”

“I feel like I am. I don’t understand why I’m so tired.”

“You’ve been put through a lot of emotional upheaval the last few days. If you’d like to take a nap, feel free. I’ll carry you out of the carriage if I have to.”

She considered his offer. Maybe she should take him up on it. She had a feeling she’d need her rest once she came face to face with his mother.

As the carriage rolled along, she fell into the first restful slumber she’d had since being whisked away from all that she knew.

 

Chapter Twenty-Three

 

The carriage rumbled to a halt, jarring Gemma from her deep slumber. 

“Have we, have we arrived?” she asked sleepily. 

“We are home.” He still held her firmly against him, and her head had been nestled against his chest.

“Your home, not mine.” She swallowed the lump forming in her throat. “It isn’t too late for you to turn this carriage around and take me back to my people.”

“It was too late for that when I whisked you away from Welford Abbey the way that I did.”

She kept her eyes fixed on the other side of the carriage. She couldn’t bear to meet his gaze. His dark eyes made her want to melt, while she knew she had to keep fighting her attraction for him. If she slept with Archie, there would be no escaping her feelings for him. As long as she tried to keep him at an arm’s length, she was safe.

The carriage opened. She stared down at footmen decked out in gold livery. She frowned. So, he was telling her the truth. A castle loomed majestically behind the footmen. Her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes scanned their surroundings.

“Wherever we are, it is beautiful,” she gasped. 

“You have a keen set of eyes.”

“I would say we are in Ireland…” her voice trailed off as she looked at him to gauge his reaction.

“We might be at that,” he said cryptically. He looked to the grand door as it opened.

She followed his gaze. A woman with bright red hair flew down the steps.

“Is that the Duchess?”

“It is.” He smiled. Suddenly, she felt exposed. She instinctively plastered herself up against him. He had her arm clasped beneath his, and they had to look like a perfectly devoted couple in his mother’s eyes.

“Archie!” His mother’s voice sounded like heaven. She had an even prettier sounding voice than Elizabeth’s. And, her stunning beauty made Gemma feel quite plain.

“Mama!” Archie released her briefly to embrace his mother in a quick hug. She beamed over at Gemma.

“I don’t think we’ve been introduced, my dear.” Her eyes went to Gemma’s ungloved hands. “Archie, what have you been up to?” Her blue eyes narrowed, as she pinned them on her son.

“Mama, maybe we should go inside before I continue—I would like to see Papa, and…”

“You shall explain yourself now. It’s a calm day, though we are due for a storm soon, I can feel it in my bones.”

“Mama…”

“Archie, explain now.”

“I am Archie’s wife, Lady Northam, Your Grace,” Gemma said, bobbing into a quick curtsy. “We were married about one month ago.”

“Married? I thought you were quite set in your ways, Archie. I never dreamt you’d marry so soon, and oh, but you did marry a bonny little lass. However, I do bemoan not being at your nuptials.”

“They were a quiet affair, Your Grace. You didn’t miss out on anything,” Gemma said softly.

“Indeed,” the Duchess’s eyes swept over Gemma, in silent appraisal. She was summing up her opinion of her, and Gemma hoped she would not find her lacking.

Her mouth grew dry. Another carriage drew up behind theirs. She slipped her hand out of Archie’s suddenly slack grip, and watched as the carriage door opened.

“Charles!” She hadn’t meant to shout his name, but seeing him hearty and whole made her heart soar.

“Aunt Gemma!” Charles pulled his hand out of Isla’s grip and ran toward her. She quickly glanced back at Archie. His eyes were wide. She could blow his ship right out of the water right now, and grab Charles and try to flee. But where would she go? Wherever they were, they seemed to be in an isolated part of the country. They lived quite a bucolic life out here. She had no idea where she was going, and she’d never been gifted at running blind.

She embraced Charles and lifted him off his feet. She quickly put him down when she remembered how heavy he was. She could hear Skye barking happily in the background.

Archie caught up with them. His stern gaze met hers. She still clasped Charles’s hand in her own.

The boy’s eyes widened. With his fair hair and blue eyes, he reminded her of Mallory. She dragged out a shattering breath, attempting to calm her somewhat rattled nerves.

“Is this your brother, my dear?” Obviously, Archie’s mother had missed what Charles had called her.

“Gemma is Charles’s aunt,” Archie explained, wincing slightly. 

“Oh.” Archie’s mother looked disappointed. “Your brother or sister must miss him he is such a handsome lad.”

“Actually, mother, Charles is Gemma’s ward. And, now the two of us are his guardians. Gemma’s brother is dead.”

Her heart raced. She started to have difficulty breathing. Hearing Archie refer to Mallory as being dead made her chest clench. The restrictive corset she wore only made the problem worse.

“Aunt Gemma?” Charles looked frantic. “You have to get a hold of your breathing—she’s done this before, but Uncle—”

Archie cut Charles off before he could make matters worse. Isla appeared out of nowhere, and started to massage her back.

“Just breathe easy, my lady, and inhale this. It will open up your airways, and relax you so you can recover yourself.

“You should take her to your chambers right away, Archie. She looks frail. Does she have a history of illness in her family?” 

Gemma cleared her throat, as her world stopped slipping away. “I’ll be fine.” Her voice sounded raspy, but at least now she could breathe without feeling her lungs burning as if they were on fire. 

“I insist, my dear. You still look like you need to have some time to recover. Go and allow Archie to attend to you.” The authority in the duchess’s voice told Gemma that she wasn’t used to having her orders questioned.

“Yes, indeed, Mama. You are quite right.”

He reached for her hand, pulling her away from Charles. Charles looked inclined to protest, but something in the look shared between Archie and he made him think otherwise.

“I think you should go with Lord Northam, Aunt Gemma.” Charles nodded his head, in grave certainty.

“I actually don’t have the energy to have words with you,” she said, too tired to make a scene. Allowing Archie to take her arm, and lead her up the steps to the castle. The grand stairwell in front of them made her breath hitch again in her throat. It was beautiful! Taking one last moment, she turned around. Cherub statues and dragon gargoyles flanked the Estate.

She could hear Archie’s mother following them. “You two get refreshed upstairs. I’m going to see to Charles getting something to eat. He’s no doubt ready for a bite to eat. I also have to make certain that your father has a few sips of the white soup he has around this time of the day.”

Gemma heard her stomach growl, come to think of it, she could do with a bite to eat as well. Some crusty buttered bread and cream soup, oh, how that would make her happy. Her mouth continued watering. Archie was already pulling her up the steps. She looked longingly back at Charles and the Duchess as they disappeared out of her sight.”

“Your mother didn’t seem too pleased to have me as her new daughter-in-law.”

“That’s probably because she’s familiar with my awfully bad habit of taking whatever I want, when I want it.”

“I expect you usually have more success.”

“I took you as my wife, didn’t I?”

“Aye, you did,” she said softly. “That doesn’t mean you shall be able to keep me.”

“Oh, I will be able to keep you,” he said. 

“Did your brother follow us here?”

“He might have,” he said.

“Your brother is mad. He should be carted away.”

“My brother is not mad.”

“A man as reckless as he is should be thought of as mad.”

“He is not as mad as your brother,” Archie pointed out.

“My brother is not mad. If he’s mad, then, so are you, Archie.” 

“Aye, but I’m not selfish, and I don’t use people the way St. Martin uses people. Look at the way he got Elizabeth to marry him—he ruined her first, and disgraced her—he lied to her—”

“Oh, do shut your bone box,” she grumbled, slapping him soundly on the face.

“That is the second or third time you have hit me, I do think I have lost count.” He flexed his jaw, pulling her toward him. “You, my lady, have just strained my patience to the breaking point. I shouldn’t have to show you just how vile that clever little sea hawk of yours is—you should already know and yet, here you are attacking me. You are most vexing.” He opened a door to what she assumed were his private chambers. “You look like you are going to scream. Don’t even think about it, Lady Northam, if you do, I shall respond in kind to your slap, and I shall give you a spanking that will make it quite impossible for you to sit still for quite some time.”

The seriousness of his threat hit home. He was quite vexed with her.

“I am confining you to these rooms.” He released her, and gave her a little nudge into the room. “You may muse upon your transgressions against me here. I shall have your meal brought up to you in a few minutes.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to see my mother. If I don’t, she’ll be up here making inquiries. She’s almost as nosy as you are.”

“Why didn’t you just take me somewhere where your mother wouldn’t be able to interfere?”

“Because, my dear, I do not feel like it.”

“No matter how irked you get…you shan’t…you shan’t break…”

“Break the promise I made to you? I hate to admit it to you, Gemma, but I don’t break or go back on my word. You may depend upon my keeping every single promise I make to you. Louis-Daniel tells me that I am annoyingly honorable.” He winced slightly. “You should see the scrapes I’ve gotten him out of—it is a very wonder I don’t have grey hair!” he laughed, trying to put some levity into the room. 

She exhaled. “As long as it ends the way you want it to end. I think I’ve had my fill of you today, my lord.”

“Well, I haven’t had my fill of you…however, I shall do your bidding,” he said, giving her a mock bow.

“Good!” She shot back.

He firmly shut the door. He couldn’t even slam it to give her the sense that what she had done was right. Turning to assess her surroundings, she contemplated her escape. If he wasn’t going to go back on his word—then, she would. 

BOOK: His to Keep (Regency Scoundrels Book 2)
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