His to Keep (Regency Scoundrels Book 2) (7 page)

“Humble? You?” Gemma laughed. “I can see that you could do with a large serving of humble pie. We should go into the dining hall. The meal will get cold if we do not.” She stood up.

“I should accompany you. Shall you take my arm again?”

Sighing, Gemma reached for his arm. She could only hope that come tomorrow and the early arrival of Duxford that Archie would get the message and hightail it back to whatever little shanty he came from.

Chapter Seven

Gemma sank wearily down onto her bed, and tried to still her breathing.

The evening had been eventful to say the least. First, she’d been proven wrong in her assumption that Seamus wasn’t an able cook. He almost matched the proficiency of Mrs. Grant. She placed her hand against her stomach. Her breasts were heaving, from her exertion of racing up the steps away from Archie. He’d been working on her all night, and her brother had done nothing to curtail his amorous advances. She could tell where Mallory’s loyalty was when it came to Archie and her. He wanted Archie to ruin her, he wanted him to lead her onto a path of sin and God help her, she was having one hell of a hard time resisting the temptation. Archie could probably tempt a bloody saint with his silvery tongue and his gentle hands, not to mention his delectable kisses that he seemed so well in delivering at the most impromptu times. Now, she ran for her very reputation.

Elizabeth had made herself suspiciously scarce, no doubt hunkering down in the nursery. But, she had thrown in her hat in with the scoundrels, since she’d made no move to help her with warding off Archie’s frequent attempts at seduction. He was the most determined sort she’d ever met. Duxford never would have tried to become so close to her the way that Archie had, but then, she couldn’t even recall Duxford attempting to kiss her at any point in time.

She walked over to her window, and stared down at the gardens below. Biting her lip, she looked back over toward her wardrobes. The night was so beautiful. Moonlight dappled the ground, and a slight mist shrouded the landscape, giving the night an ethereal glow. She could almost hear the faeries singing and dancing.

“You look quite fetching standing there in the glow of the moonlight,” his deep throated voice made her skin prickle with anticipation.

Her heart stopped. She whirled around, and suddenly her heart started to beat so fast and hard she feared it would fly right out of her chest.

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing in here?” she demanded breathlessly. 

“I think I’m looking at the loveliest lady in Great Britain,” he answered solemnly. 

She swallowed. Her mouth had grown inexplicably dry. Her hands went clammy, and she pressed them against her skirt to still the trembling that had erupted in them.

“You speak with quite a silver tongue for being such a beastly man.”

“Beastly am I? Well, you’ve called me so many colorful names, that I’ll just add that one to the quickly growing list of insults.”

Narrowing her eyes, she walked toward him. “How did you get in here?”

“It wasn’t too hard, actually.  In your haste to escape me, you forgot to shut the door properly. It was ajar, so I just slipped in here, and made myself comfortable. I didn’t think you’d mind I thought you had left it open in a silent invitation.”

“Why would I want to invite your advances? You think too highly of yourself, sir. You are mad! You are dancing with scandal, and I shan’t join you. If my mother knew of this, she would give you and Mallory both a tongue lashing that you soon wouldn’t forget.”

“From what I understand your mother is a formidable woman.”

“She is. And, she’s definitely one woman that my brother always listens to, if he knows what is good for him.”

“So, she has the fire breathing dragon temper of yours too, I assume.”

She planted her hands on her hips, and bore down upon him. “I will not trouble myself to respond to that sort of remark.”

“You just did,” he chuckled, making his way toward her so she could feel his hot breath on her face.

“Remove your person from this room, this instant. I command it!”

“My person doesn’t feel like it, my lady.” His eyes sparkled. “The house is going to bed, you should to.”

“I should like to. The only problem is I have a beast in my bedchamber.”

He waved his hand in dismissal. “Soon, you’ll be quite accustomed to welcoming me into your bedroom and your bed. Quit fighting your burgeoning attraction for me, Gemma. I recognize that look in your eyes. Despite yourself, you’ve already lost your heart to me. Don’t worry, I shall keep it safe.” He gave her a roguish grin.

She sighed.  “I’ve never met such a stubborn man in all of my days.”

“With Mallory as your brother I think that’s a lie. That’s what made us so formidable while sailing the High Seas, pirates that we were.”

She gasped. “Don’t say such a despicable thing in this house. I will not hear you blacken my brother’s name in that manner! The Crown does not tolerate piracy, my brother has always been a loyal subject of the King!”

“Indeed he has. During the wars against Napoleon what we did against the enemy helped to ensure victory for our side.”

She turned her back to him, staring out the window. “You are not worth the time or effort, sir.”

“Oh, I’m quite worth the effort, why don’t I show you just how much I am worth?” In an instant, he’d crossed the distance between them, turning her so she faced him. She didn’t know why but she didn’t shrink away from him—or try to fight him. She quite simply went with it.

He extended his hand and gently caressed the side of her cheek. She shivered at his feathery and electrifying touch. She couldn’t help herself. Every time he touched her, he made her feel the most unusual sensations. She had to admit that he made her blood boil more than Duxford ever could.

“This is insanity, Archie. You cannot seek to ruin me.”

“Oh, I can, and I will. Don’t fight it, Gemma, lass. I want you for the rest of my life, not just for one night.”

She threw her hands up in the air. “Do you honestly know how foolish you are being? What sort of debt do you owe Mallory to be willing to ruin and then marry me? This will change your life forever, and it will change mine as well, I am not so certain I like the way that it will change my life. Marriage isn’t something to be taken lightly—to marry me would be sheer madness!”

“Oh, I beg to differ. I think it would be one of the sanest decisions, I’ve ever made. You might be spoiled, you might be headstrong, but underneath all of your spunkiness you have a pure and loving heart. Passion boils within you—all I need to do is ignite that flame. As for your brother, I owe him my life. He saved it once, and I haven’t had the opportunity to repay him in kind.”

She laughed. “Oh, I see. He saved your life after a night of drunken revelry. He probably kept you from drowning or breaking your neck while riding back to your ships.”

“No. He saved my life from a Frenchman’s blade.” 

Chapter Eight

Gemma cut her laugh short, she suddenly felt quite short of breath, and tears brimmed in her eyes.

Good God, she was going to become a watering pot in front of Archie, who was one man she didn’t want to cry in front of.

There was nothing that sobered her better than the mention of the blasted wars against that awful Corsican. She’d made her peace with all of those who had fought for Boney. She no longer viewed France as the enemy. After all, the St. Martins still had distant family in France, but whenever someone mentioned the Wars, she could only think of Malcolm. They had made so many plans, she’d been so looking forward to his nuptials to his fiancée Mary, who was a dear friend of hers, and then, he’d been killed, and the bond they had shared had died with him. She and Mallory had never been particularly close, probably because she was too much like Mallory to get along with him. Now, Mary had moved on, she’d built a good life for herself, and Gemma resented her for that.

She resented the fact that Mary had found the ability to love someone else, and she resented the fact that Mary had figured out how to live for the future rather than living in the past. The past was safe, the present was precarious, and the future was frightening.

She knew she lived with ghosts, and she knew she had to move on, the trouble was, she didn’t know how.

“Lady Gemma? Are you quite well? You look rather pale and, well—distant. Return to me, my love.”

“That’s just it. You can’t love me! You can’t possibly fall in love with someone you have only known for a day. It’s not possible. You aren’t living in a true reality, no one could love me so quickly. I’m not the sort that you just fall in love with at first sight. I’m like a prickly dragon. No one wants to get that close to me. No one could possibly think tenderly of me. I am, well, I am quite the harridan.”

“I disagree. I have known a lot of women in my time, I’ve been infatuated with quite a few of them, and yes, I’ve had many ports to take my ship into, but I’ve never felt so passionately about a woman like I feel for you. I’m willing to take you despite your stubbornness, your high airs, and your ability to push me away at every opportunity. You try to use that somewhat barbed tongue of yours to turn me off, and yet, I keep coming back to you. Aye, I owe a life debt to Mallory, but I don’t have to do this if I don’t want to I’m sure that Mallory will have other times where he’ll need my help. The man has a way of finding trouble.” He grinned.

She lost herself in that warm smile. Clearly, he’d endured hardship and trials of the spirit beyond her comprehension. She could tell that by the hardened glint that sometimes entered his eyes. However, whenever he looked at her that steely glint vanished. Perhaps, he was being truthful with her. Had he actually fallen for her?

“Archie, I think you should go back to your bedchamber. I don’t know why you’re doing this. I can tell you’d never hurt me, I might think you’re a big pain in the arse, but you’re not the sort of man that would take me against my will.”

His visage softened. “You know me better than you want to admit,” he said softly.

She was taken aback by the endearing expression entering his eyes. She could really lose her heart to that particular look.

“You don’t actually want to marry Duxford, do you? From the tales Mallory has regaled me with, he sounds like a letch of the foulest sort.” His breath tingled against her neck. He made her feel safe—and wanted. 

“I will marry Duxford because I picked him out for myself, didn’t I?”

“What happened to force you into that decision? Surely, there are other more suitable men in the haut ton that could strike your fancy.”

“Alas, you don’t understand the men of the beau monde. They ran from me like I was holding a smoking pistol in my hand. They didn’t want to have anything to do with me—I tried to tell myself that it was Mallory that had turned them off but it wasn’t. I know better than that. It was me. Most men don’t know what to think of my unconventional ways. No one but Duxford would approach me at the grand balls.  He was the only one that didn’t look at me with a glint of wariness in his eyes.”

“I am not one of those men.”

“Yes, that’s true. You probably wouldn’t know what to do at one of the haut ton soirees, seeing as you are well, raised in the wilds of Scotland.”

“I am not a toffee nosed fop, but I’m also not a barbarian, if that is what you believe. Still, I do adore Scotland, and I do not think that any of my kinsmen that were raised there and still live there should be looked down upon by the likes of you.”

She bristled at his cutting remark.

“If you seek to cut me with your words, sir, you cannot. They are only words, and I have long since learned to live past the brunt of them.” 

“Just because one man broke your heart and betrayed your trust, it doesn’t mean that you have to regard the rest of the gentlemen in your circles with such contempt.”

He turned away from her.

“But you aren’t exactly from my class, are you? What were you before the wars, sir? Were you a bastard son to a Peer of the Realm? Did you join the Royal Navy to make a place for yourself in the world? I know that the Royal Navy isn’t usually favored by our ilk. It’s a place where you can start from being nothing and becoming something.”

“Oh, aye, I don’t think I’ve managed to become a something, yet, my lady. I was hoping to raise myself up through society by marrying you.”

“That would work,” she mused. “Many men better than you have done it.”

His eyes sparked with fire. “I am quite certain they have. I only wonder if I can manage to warm you up and melt the ice that you have flowing through your veins.”

“Did you just call me cold?” 

He walked over to her bed and perched himself on the edge of it. “I think I might have,” he said, “However, I’ve met colder shrews than you, Gemma. For being so frigid, I didn’t think that your bedchamber would exude such warmth,” he sighed. “You might be interested in knowing that your brother has sent out a rider to intercept Duxford’s carriage. He has plans to tell Duxford that you are otherwise indisposed, and that you won’t be able to accept his hand in marriage. I must say, when your brother decides to do something, he is a man of action. When he puts his mind into a task, there’s no stopping him. That’s why I admire him so much. And if Duxford is not put off, he shall arrive too late. We shall leave for Brighton early. So I shall depart and allow you to get the sleep that you so desperately need.”

Gemma seethed with anger. She wanted to pitch herself into a tantrum, worthy of the ones she had as a youngster. She had so much pent up energy. She wanted to ruin the man in front of her. She wanted to find a way to wipe that smug grin off his face. Marching toward him, she relaxed her stance at the last moment.

“Thank you,” she said breathlessly.

“Your welcome,” he said it more of a question. He knew that something was brewing beneath her calm façade, and she couldn’t give him the chance to see past the charade she had decided to erect.

“Did you bring a special license for us?” she asked, her voice a mere whisper.

“I did,” he said smoothly.

“Then…all my brother has to do is fetch the vicar?”

“He does,” he said softly.

“Indeed,” she whispered. She felt like a vixen. She had seen other women at balls acting like she was trying to act right now. This part of her that was desperately trying to flirt was foreign to her, but she had to keep at it. She had to successfully capture Archie, and once she had him—she planned to make his life a living hell. If he wouldn’t be deterred, and she doubt he could be, and she’d never been able to win against her brother before…so there was only one thing to do.

She had to submit.

She had to ruin herself, and once she had Archie in the palm of her hand, she would cut him deeply, and force him out of her life. Her keeper indeed, who did they think they were playing with? She was no simpleton, and she wasn’t about to stand idly by and let them fashion her life for her. She would furnish it as she desired, and right now, she desired Archie. This would be her choice, and she would direct the acts of the players.

Archie thought he was Petruchio and she was Katherina did he? Well, she would show him. She would take him, and love him, and then, then, she would cast him aside, and see how well he dealt with having a broken heart.

She walked up to him until her knees rested against his, bending slightly, she clumsily tried to kiss him. He laughed, his breath tickling her lips. Standing up, he pulled her against him. Her heartbeat hammered in her chest. “Ruin me, sir,” she said softly.

Archie regarded her steadily. His own heart was racing now. He hadn’t expected her to take it this far. He hadn’t expected her to be so bold. He thought he would come up to her bedchamber and scare her, but now, now, she was calling his bluff.

He wanted to strip her clothes from her. He wanted to lay her down on the bed, and take all that she offered to him. Oh, hell, he wasn’t a saint, he was a scoundrel. He had to keep acting the part. He smashed his lips against hers, and brought her down so she was lying on top of him. Her eyes were dancing with…triumph?

Clarity dawned through his foggy brain, and he cast her aside. She rolled onto the bed with a surprised grunt.

“I shall go and tell your brother that you wish to be married, posthaste.”

“I…” her voice trembled. She sat up, and her eyes were just as cloudy with emotion as he fancied his had been only moments before. Most of her hair had come loose from the pins and oh, god, she looked like a golden haired princess. He had to fight it, or he’d be joining her on the bed, and he wouldn’t leave it until he had joined their bodies together. No matter what he wanted, she deserved more.

“I will go and tell Mallory to fetch the vicar.”

“It will take time for that.”

“Oh, not at all,” he said, grinning widely. “Mallory has it all in hand. He had the vicar summoned earlier. He asked him to stay the night. I suppose he thought he might have need of him. Given your mercurial temperament and ability to change your mind from one minute to the next, he decided to be prepared.”

Walking to the door, he stopped and listened to her scream of frustration. It looked as if he had won the first battle.

The question was, would he win the war?