Taken by the Wicked Rake (28 page)

“It is truly over for you, then?” She was relaxing against him, her arms stealing around him as though she would hold him back, should he show signs of changing his mind.

He placed his hands about her, as well. “I have been released. You are the only woman, living or dead, with a claim upon my future.”

“I am so glad.” She kissed him on the lips. “Thank you for saving my brothers, even if they do not think they needed it.” She kissed him again. “And for preventing them from doing him harm before justice could settle the matter.”

And he sighed in gratitude that she did not know how close he’d come to that himself.

She smiled softly at him and stroked his hair. “But I should much prefer it if you were more cautious in the future, should a similar circumstance arise. You lost a frightful amount of blood. And for a time, I quite feared…”

There was a little break in her voice, and he reached out and caught one of her hands in his, bringing it to his lips to reassure her. “Do not think of it. It was a trifle, little more than that. I am still here, after all that has been at tempted against me.”

“My brothers told me not to worry. They say that you are surprisingly hard to kill.” She frowned. “But I told them that I had seen you near death from a tiny scratch. And that there was no telling what might happen in your weakened condition. They wished to hire a nurse for you, but I told them I would not be satisfied unless I was here myself to see that you were properly taken care of. But they would not allow me to stay with you in the Rom camp. So we are all at Stanegate Court.”

“Ahh.” That explained much. “I am sure I owe my recovery to your skilful tending.” It would drive poor Narborough to another attack, if he caught his daughter in such a state, practically in the bed of a naked man. But Stephano had no wish to change his circumstances. So he made an effort to look as helpless as possible. “But I am not out of the woods yet.” He sank back into the pillows, and she followed him, leaning her body against his, taking care not to disturb his wounded side.

Her hand brushed lightly against his temples as her lips tickled his ear. “That is a shame. I am eager for your full return to vitality.” Her whisper had turned into a kiss, and the tempo of her breathing made his own pulse quicken and his body stir encouragingly.

He looked over her shoulder to see her brother standing in the doorway. The expression on Stanegate’s face made it clear that, no matter his true state, he had best be too weak for any foolishness. The Carlow family would have no compunction against putting a fresh hole in him. He cleared his throat. “I think I shall need six weeks at least, to be truly healthy.”

“Then I shall be at your side, the whole time, to make sure that you behave.” She was smiling down at him, and he could feel himself growing stronger. How strange. For he had not really believed that he would survive this mad quest his grand mother had set him to. And now? The future stretched for ward, as far as his mind could reach. The path was clear, shining so brightly before him that he could hardly bear to look without his eyes be coming wet.

He reached out to touch her face. “If you are in tent on remaining with me, then it would be churlish of me to trouble you further.”

He arranged himself on the bed to leave some small space between them, and reached to take her hand, twining her fingers with his own. “But if you would have me, and be Mrs Stephen Hebden, then my recovery shall give us more than enough time for a license and the reading of the banns.”

She pulled away and looked at him with startled delight. “
If
I mean to have you? Now you are being foolish. I thought it was all decided.”

“Between us, my love.” He glanced up at Stanegate. “But I wish your family’s blessing. If you would do me the honour to wed me in the eyes of the law, as well as the Lord, then both our families can celebrate the union.” He thought of the Carlows, the Beshaleys and the Hebdens, all in the same church, with the Wardales to stand witness. It made his head hurt again, but it was still nothing like the pain that he’d grown used to.

She kissed him again, making no effort to protect his wound, nor to hide her enthusiasm from her brother. “You know I will have you.” She ran a hand under the sheet and down his bare chest. “And you will have no opposition from my family.” She shot a glance over her shoulder, toward the doorway, her look as fierce as any Romany girl’s. “I mean to keep him, Marc. No matter what you and Father might have to say. And it will be better if we are properly wed, don’t you think? So you must help me explain to the others.”

Stephen heard the exasperated sigh from the doorway. “And I suppose if I try to exert some common sense, you will not give me a moment’s peace.” He glared down at Stephano, but there was a touch of amusement in his eyes. “If we give her to you, will you keep her in health and happiness?”

“She shall want for nothing.” He smiled at her. “When I am a little better, we shall go to examine the contents of my safe. You shall have the pick of the stones there for your ring. Do you fancy a diamond? I have emeralds, as well, and rubies of unusual clarity. Or all three. I will cover you from head to toe with jewels, if you wish.”

She put her hands to her lips to hide her smile. “That will not be necessary. For my ring, I should like jade.” She whispered, “The colour of my eyes.”

He smiled. “Not as precious as a diamond. But it is just as beautiful, if you have a discerning taste. And although gold is more valuable, I think the setting must be silver, to honour my family. It will be a most singular piece. Like no other in the world, just as you are like no other woman. Once I can retrieve Thom’s tools and clean the workshop in Bloomsbury Square, I will make it for you myself.”

Her eyes grew wide with surprise. And he remembered why they reminded him of jade, for he could lose himself for ever in them. “You could do that for me? It would be most wonderful. I knew you were talented, of course. And the way you played the violin was most exciting. But that you could make me a ring, as well…”

It almost made him blush to see her so excited about such small displays of skills. To be good with one’s hands was a virtue demanded of any Rom. But he hadn’t thought that an earl’s daughter would be so intrigued by the very things that had shamed his own father. He brought her hand to his lips. “Of course, my darling.”

She closed her eyes and smiled as though a simple kiss was near to paradise. She was still smiling, when she opened them again, and her eyes brightened as though it were a surprise to find him still there, close to her body. “I never imagined…” And her eyes were so full of love and amazement that he felt he could stare into them for the rest of his life.

“Nor did I.” And he kissed her on the lips, not caring about the disapproving harrumphs from her brother, letting himself sink slowly into the happiness that was to be his future.

Epilogue

Verity walked down the aisle towards the man waiting at the front. Her father gave her arm an encouraging squeeze, and she turned and smiled at him. It was good, after his long illness, to feel him offering support to her as they walked, and not the other way around.

Of course, he had been less than pleased with her choice, at first. But Stephano could be charming when he wished to be, and quite hard to resist. And he wished to be, most heartily in the case of her family.

There he was, staring back at her from the front of the church. And could it be? He appeared to be nervous. The man who was never out of composure had unravelled at the prospect of marrying her. He wore a trim grey coat and spotless white trousers. His linen was immaculate, the cravat tied in something that looked as uncomfortable as it was complicated. He was elegant but conservative, and deserved the snickers and mutters of “gaujo” she heard from the Rom.

Magda looked to her and nodded in approval. For before the ceremony, she had shown the old woman the petticoat that the Beshaleys had made for her, raising the skirt of her jade-green dress a few inches so that one of the coins was visible, and slipping the bracelet down her arm so that it would show beneath her puffed sleeve. While her beloved might look every bit an English gentleman, she did her best to carry a bit of their Rom life to the altar with her.

She tried not to smile at the sight of Stephano fidgeting. He gave a faint shrug of relief as she drew near, and it was clear that he would have her, just as planned. There would be no sudden hitch to spoil the proceedings.

He relaxed even further after the ceremony had passed the critical moment when one might object. Though she had assured him that none would, he swore he would not be at peace until the ring was safely on her hand. She was sure that he must have given Nathan no end of bother over the ring itself. As witness, he had been left in charge of it. And while Diana had assured Stephano that there was nothing to fear, Nathan had grinned, examined the thing and announced that it would make an excellent starter for a game of hazard.

Diana had reached out to Verity, pretending to straighten her dress, and kissed her on the cheek and whispered that he was only joking. The new Earl of Leybourne had no reason to gamble. Even if he did, he would certainly not do it with Verity’s wedding ring. But Stephen had been wicked to them. And it served him right if they gave him reason to worry.

And it seemed that each couple took some small pleasure in seeing the man suffer. But she could hardly blame them. He had been odious to almost everyone in the church, which made for a most interesting guest list. But he was making an effort to reform. He had gone from family to family, offering apology and redress, and making a silver rattle for each of the wives, as a remembrance of the events.

Of course, the revelation of Keddinton as murderer had done much to restore their relationships and had gained him the enthusiastic support of all the Wardale family.

And her own brothers had seen him pay in blood. Will Wolversley, who had married Nate’s sister, Rosalind, was of the opinion that a man who had managed to give Robert Veryan his just deserts could be forgiven very nearly anything. Rosalind heartily agreed, and she kissed Verity’s cheek in congratulations.

If only Honoria could be here with them, Verity would know for sure that things would go right. She hoped that Stephano’s letter of apology had reached her safely, and that his inclusion of a magnificent rope of pearls along with a silver rattle would soften any remaining hard feelings.

He had assured her that it was an excellent gift, for a newly married couple. While having met Gabe Hawksworth, he did not doubt that the man would land on his feet anywhere he chose to settle, there was nothing wrong with the insurance of jewellery. And pearls were an easily shared dower, should Honoria be blessed with daughters. They were a gift for the future.

It was sweet of him to think so. And in Verity’s heart, it felt good to know that she would be his bride. For now that he had pledged himself to her, he was just as loyal to her family as he was to his own.

There, on the other side of the church, was Stephano’s own family, dressed in their Gypsy best, packed into pews, nudging each other with good humour at the curiosity of Stephano’s
gadje
wedding. Her own parents looked on them with a kind of horror. Marcus laid a hand on Father’s shoulder in a gesture of reassurance, and Hal looked at her, as if to say, ‘Is this what you truly want?’

She gave him a nod, and he seemed to relax in his seat.

Stephano’s sister Nadya sat side by side with Magda, who turned to the rest of her tribe and offered a glare that silenced them easily into respectability. And at Nadya’s side was her own
gaujo
husband, Rhys, who looked at the chaos, and gave Verity a conspiratorial smile and a wink.

And there, mixed in with the Gypsies, sat Stephano’s other sister, Imogen, and her husband Monty, Viscount Mildenhall. Imo had nearly over whelmed her, with her easy affection, and excitement at having another sister. Verity had assured her that she would be equally excited to see the new niece or nephew that would be a part of the Claremont household in a few short months.

She glanced behind her, at the packed church, and smiled. Had it really been just a few weeks ago that she had been missing the company of her family, and considering a lonely future as spinster? Now that she was marrying, Nell and Julia felt more like sisters to her. Diana was again her confidante. And an entire tribe of Gypsies claimed her as one of their own.

And in a few minutes, she would gather them all together for a wedding break fast at Bloomsbury Square. They would be served by all manner of rogues and scoundrels, and at least one fallen woman. But it did not worry her. For the band of retired miscreants had welcomed her both as lady of the house and comrade in arms.

Every where she turned, people loved her and wanted her company. Not a one of them cared that she was the Earl of Narborough’s daughter. And the man beside her loved her most of all.

She turned back to the altar and sighed in satisfaction, as she married Mr. Stephen Hebden. Again.

THE END

ISBN: 978-1-4268-7955-5

TAKEN BY THE WICKED RAKE

Copyright © 2010 by Christine Merrill

First North American Publication 2011

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