The Devil and the Viscount, page 13
He groaned softly, closing his eyes for a moment before they blazed down at her with predatory intent. “I, too, have been busy,” he said huskily, beginning to move above her, in her. Bliss took her by surprise, shaking her to her core, but he barely paused, giving her no time to gather herself, only to wallow and arch and moan. “Among other things, I acquired a special license. We can be married tomorrow if we can find a clergyman to do it.”
“Oh God, I love you,” she whispered, clinging to him, moving with him toward an inexorable, mutual, cataclysmic pleasure.
“And I love you,” he breathed into her open mouth as he collapsed upon her. “Only you. Forever and ever and ever.”
*
Gina woke with languorous contentment. She had fallen asleep in Rollo’s arms, unable to make herself leave him just yet, even though she told herself she should. Just five more minutes, she had promised herself, for after the intoxicating physical love, had come sheer, uncomplicated happiness, a sense of rightness that here in his arms was exactly where she was meant to be.
And here she still was, although there was movement in the passage outside the door. She stretched out her arm, but Rollo was not there. For a moment, a sense of abandonment hurt her. But only for a moment.
Rollo loved her. Rollo had a special license in his pocket to marry her. He had probably gone to order coffee or breakfast or to ask Aline to cover for her absence with Mrs. Fitzwilliam.
Only, it was still dark.
She sat up and lit the lamp by the bed. Then she rose, found Rollo’s washing water and tooth powder, and made use of both, before slipping back into her chemise and gown and cloak. Under the cloak, she hid her stays, which were too difficult to lace up by herself.
The movement and voices from the passage seemed to have stopped. Perhaps some late revelers heading finally to bed. She opened the door a crack, and finding the corridor empty, she pulled up her hood, slid out of the room, and closed the door behind her.
Unseen, she flitted along the passage to the stairs, and then along the quiet passage to her own rooms. Using her key, she crept into silence and darkness. She made it unseen to her own room and undressed to her chemise.
She was reaching for her night rail when from outside this time, more muffled voices reached her, along with a rumble of quiet laughter and soft footsteps. She padded to the window and drew back the curtain.
A scattering of mostly silent men were making their way away from the hotel and along the path to the fields beyond.
What on earth…?
It came to her that Rollo was probably with them since he wasn’t in his bed. She further realized that she had no idea why he had come to Renwick’s. He had been surprised to see her, so he hadn’t come for her. And with her knowledge of him, her trust in him, she knew he had not brought some ladybird here. She was certain the princess had not invited him, but he had chosen to come anyway, along with his friends—Mr. Meade and Mr. Montague, Lord Dominic Gorse and…had that been Fitz skulking behind them?
Godfrey Fitzwilliam’s presence struck her fully for the first time. Why would Fitz have avoided Gina at the card party?
Something suspicious was going on.
Instead of her night rail, Gina donned her new lavender walking dress and matching hat, swung the cloak back around her shoulders, and sallied forth. Just in time to see Fitz creeping from his room on the other side of the passage.
At sight of her, he froze. Then, recovering, he said, “It’s too early to be up and about. Not quite dawn you know.”
“You are up and about,” she pointed out.
“Couldn’t sleep. Going for a walk.”
“Along with all the other men in the hotel?”
“What?” He looked genuinely confused.
“Is there a prizefight? A cock fight or something?”
“I expect it’s something like that,” Fitz said with a hint of relief. “I’ll just go and find out and let you know.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“You can’t do that! Not the thing for a lady. You wouldn’t like it.”
“Well, once I find out what it is, I can leave again, curiosity satisfied.”
“Dash it, you can’t be seen with me at this time of the morning!” Fitz exclaimed. “People will talk, and Aunt will draw and quarter me.”
Another figure loomed around the corner. “Fitz? Time to go.”
It was Lord Dominic Gorse, and at his side, a young man Gina had never seen before.
“Miss Wallace?” Dominic said cautiously.
“Fitz has been refusing to take me to your prizefight.”
“Quite right, too,” Lord Dominic agreed.
“Then it is a prizefight? Fitz didn’t seem very sure.”
“It’s not a prizefight,” Princess Aline’s voice said softly. “I’ve been up there, and there’s no fighting ring, just a lot of young men making wagers and a fiddler.”
“A fiddler?” Lord Dominic said with a sudden grin. “Come on, fellows, let’s go. We’re desolate, ladies, not to have your company. Good morning.”
Gina and Aline watched them vanish down the staircase.
Then it struck Gina like a blow. “It’s not a prizefight, it’s a duel…”
“I suspect so.”
“But who…?”
“I suspect the young man we don’t know and Lord Darblay.”
Gina’s mouth fell open. “Rollo? But why?”
“A very silly, vain girl—one Miss Smythe—has been spreading rumors that Lord Darblay compromised her and won’t marry her. Some banker’s son took it upon himself to challenge Rollo.”
“But that’s nonsense!” Gina was already marching for the staircase.
“I came along to be sure you knew nothing,” Aline said, “and were safely tucked up in bed. But it seems events are now beyond me.”
“Well, they’re not beyond me,” Gina said grimly.
Aline caught her hand. “Gina. You can’t interfere without ruining your own name.”
“It doesn’t matter. I won’t have Rollo killed for a stupid lie!”
“Gina, he won’t be killed,” the princess said bluntly. “He’s fought before, you know.”
“And if he kills the other man?”
“That is more of a problem, but—”
Gina sailed on, and after a moment, Aline merely walked beside her, casting her odd glances that might have held admiration.
They had almost caught up with Fitz and his companions by the time they reached the male gathering in the meadow. The first light of dawn was beginning to break, revealing a few young men sitting in trees, others sprawled on blankets and folding chairs in the grass. They were all cheering as Rollo, facing them, swore at them and told them to go home.
And then the fiddler started up and he let out one of his familiar cracks of laughter. “Oh, for the love of—”
“It’s a damned circus,” exclaimed the banker’s son, who had stopped in front of Gina to glare in outrage at the proceedings.
“You’re quite within your rights to walk away,” Lord Dominic told him. “This is not how an affair of honor should be conducted.”
“Happy to make that point to Darblay’s seconds,” Fitz said. “You should just walk away.”
Gina said, “If I might have a word with Mr.…?”
“Black,” Lord Dominic said with a sigh. “Mr. James Black. Black, this is Princess Aline Hagerin and Miss Wallace.”
Black glanced at them impatiently, managed a jerky bow, and then froze. “Wait a moment. Miss Wallace? Then you were there when Lord Darblay assaulted Miss…that is, the young lady!”
“Yes, I was there,” Gina said sternly, “and the only person assaulted was me. In point of fact, I was with his lordship when the young lady hurled herself into me, all but knocking me over in order to clutch his lordship and cry ruination. Mr. Meade and Mr. Montague had to drag her off him. They were meant to witness events, of course, only they were a few seconds too early for her purposes.”
In the pale light, Mr. Black seemed to whiten. “Meade and Montague told me some such nonsense. But they did not mention you.”
“Well, they wouldn’t, would they?” the princess said gently. “Being gentlemen. The truth is, Mr. Black, that your good nature, your honor, and your trust have been manipulated by an unscrupulous young woman who is quite unworthy of your regard, let alone your life. And Darblay has done nothing to dishonor anyone.”
“Except Miss Wallace, by the sound of it!” Black said in clearly a last-ditch attempt to find motive for his challenge.
“I was not assaulted by Lord Darblay. On the contrary, although I will be obliged by your discretion on this point for a few days, I am engaged to marry his lordship. Now please, let that be an end to this foolishness.”
“Foolishness it is,” Mr. Meade said cheerfully as he and Montague joined them. “Ladies, not sure you should be here, but not sure anything should happen anyway. What do you think, Dom?”
“I think Black might be ready to reconsider.”
Mr. Black was pulling at his lower lip, irresolute, and no doubt reluctant to be thought a coward by backing down.
“Perhaps,” Lord Dominic suggested, “we should convey apologies to Lord Darblay for your misunderstanding of the situation at the ball? Tell him that in the light of new information, you are happy to accept his version of events?”
“That would work,” Mr. Montague said. “Shall I speak to Rolls?”
Mr. Black hesitated one moment more, then nodded. Meade and Montague grinned and sauntered back to Rollo, who was still exchanging amiable insults with his audience to the accompaniment of jolly fiddle music.
“I believe our work here is done,” Aline murmured as Lord Dominic led his principal toward Rollo’s group.
“I believe it is,” Gina agreed, but still she lingered to be sure. Then, suddenly, she frowned. “How did Mr. Black know my name?”
“None of the seconds would have mentioned you, and Darblay certainly wouldn’t have. My money is on Miss Smythe herself when she convinced poor Black of the wrong done to her. I suspect her few invitations into polite society have dried up.”
“Will mine?” Gina asked bluntly.
“No, my dear. Even last night, you were every inch a lady.”
Not when I was in Rollo’s bed. Again…
“Oh, no, Rolls, unfair!” came a shout from the tree branch. “We were lured here for the promise of a fencing match! You won’t wriggle out of it! Got a damned monkey on you for first blood!”
“Tough,” Rollo answered, picking up one of the rapiers from an open case at his feet and testing its point. He paused, and Gina could feel his speculation even over the distance between them. He was smiling as he spoke to Black. And even Black raised a reluctant laugh. So did the fiddle.
“Fencing tournament!” cried Rollo, throwing off his coat. “Buttons on foils, first touch—no blood!”
*
It was an hour later before Gina returned to the hotel with Princess Aline and a trail of loud, happy gentlemen, led by Rollo and Mr. Black, arm-in-arm. Most of those present had tried their hand with one of the two sets of matched rapiers present, the betting had flowed, and the audience had been treated to a display of sword skills. Gina, who had witnessed nothing like it before, was entranced and had drawn nearer until Rollo caught sight of her and almost dropped his weapon.
When she had smiled, he grinned back and fought on. In fact, she was impressed by his unexpected skill, aroused by the play of muscle in his arms and chest, and the speed of his almost-dancing feet. Familiar heat pooled low in her belly.
Through it all, the fiddler had played his merry tunes and received a fortune in tips along, presumably, with his original fee.
Entirely happy with the world, she entered the hotel, only to come face to face with her father and Mrs. Fitzwilliam.
The smile faded from her lips, for she could see at once that Papa had received Lord Longton’s promised letter.
“Good morning, ma’am. Papa,” she said civilly. “Are we having breakfast downstairs?”
“Assuredly not,” barked her father, glaring at the throngs of noisy young men now pouring into the hotel behind Rollo and Mr. Black. As she parted from Aline with a smile and moved toward the staircase, far more calmly than she felt, she heard calls for Rollo to join his friends.
She didn’t hear his reply.
Inevitably, Papa loosed his fury as soon as the door of their sitting room closed. “What have you done to alienate Lord Longton?” he all but bellowed.
“Very little. But then, I did nothing to attract him either. You dangled money, and he leapt for it. No one troubled to consult me.”
Papa glowered. “I have every right! Do you deny it?”
“No. But I am of age, Papa, and entitled to say yay or nay. To save your name, I persuaded Longton to do the nay-saying.”
The wind seemed to leave her father’s sails abruptly, and he sank onto the sofa looking like an old man. “Why?” he asked bewildered. “You agreed at the time. Longton’s an earl. He would have given you a title, standing, made the way easier for your sisters and your brother…”
“I don’t love him,” Gina said frankly. “And don’t dare tell me love does not count, for you loved Mama with a passion. All I wanted was the same right, the same privilege to choose. Admittedly, I should have discovered this earlier, and well before I left for London and met…”
“Met who?” her father asked with ominous quiet.
“Another titled lord whom I do intend to marry.”
“Over my dead body!”
“I hope not, even without your blessing.”
A brisk knock sounded at the door, and with hope, Gina started toward the door.
“Leave it!” her father snapped.
“Forgive me, Papa, but I want you to meet someone now.” She knew before she opened the door that it would be Rollo, but she still couldn’t help her smile to see him there. He wore a clean shirt and cravat, and his hair and coat had been well brushed. He bowed with a quick upward flick of one eyebrow, and she held out her hand to him. When he took it, she drew him into the room.
Her father rose, hands clenched hard at his side.
“Allow me to present my father, Mr. Robert Wallace,” she said. “Papa, this is Viscount Darblay.”
Rollo bowed with perfect propriety. “Very pleased to meet you, at last, sir.”
“You were one of those clowns fencing up in the meadow,” Papa accused.
“I was,” Rollo admitted. “You could call me the chief clown. Perhaps not the best introduction, since I’ve come to ask for your blessing. I want to marry your daughter.”
“Rakes and fortune hunters need not apply for my daughter’s hand!”
“I’m not applying to you for her hand,” Rollo said before Gina could open her mouth. “She has already granted me permission and agreed to be my wife. I’m no catch, sir,” he added as Papa was about to interrupt with fury. “I know that. My past is littered with scandal and mistakes, and my finances are a mess. But my family is an old one, and I will make her a viscountess. Even without your blessing or a penny of your money, I will make her a viscountess and count myself the most fortunate of men. But your blessing matters to her a great deal. She has moved heaven and earth to do this in such a way that leaves your word and your dreams intact. My hope is that you will do as much for her.”
Mrs. Fitzwilliam sniffed into her handkerchief. Gina regarded her betrothed with considerable awe. Her hand crept into his as she turned to face her father.
“Please, Papa.”
There was silence. Then; “Viscount, eh? Not as good as an earl.”
“My sister is married to an earl,” Rollo offered. “And if you like, I can bore you rigid with all the plans I would like to put in place to make my estates profitable again.”
“With my Gina’s money,” Papa growled.
“With or without,” Rollo replied steadily. “It will take longer without, but I will do it.”
Papa took a step closer, and Gina’s fingers tightened on Rollo’s as she prepared to leap between the men. But Papa only stared into Rollo’s eyes. He was looking, as he would at a prospective business partner of any kind. As he had failed to do with Longton, too dazzled by the title to see the man.
Her father gave a crooked smile. “I believe you will,” he said unexpectedly. “Have breakfast, and I’ll decide whether or not you are worthy.”
“Happy to,” Rollo said.
By the time they had had breakfast, strolled around the pleasure garden, and listened to the midday concert, Papa was conversing easily with Rollo and laughing at his jokes. By the time they reached the town, he had given his gracious permission to marry. And by the time Rollo had told him about the special license, he was so flabbergasted that he said not a word when Rollo kissed Gina a very long and affectionate goodbye until the morrow.
And when the wedding was performed in Mrs. Fitzwilliam’s drawing room the following afternoon, he was beaming.
Gina, holding tight to her husband’s hand, accepted with pleasure all the felicitations of Rollo’s family, from his tearful mother to his smiling sisters and the urbane Lord Wenning.
And then at last they were alone, and he reminded her exactly why she was so happy to be his wife. He was her one and only gentleman of pleasure.
About Mary Lancaster
Mary Lancaster lives in Scotland with her husband, three mostly grown-up kids and a small, crazy dog.
Her first literary love was historical fiction, a genre which she relishes mixing up with romance and adventure in her own writing. Her most recent books are light, fun Regency romances written for Dragonblade Publishing: The Imperial Season series set at the Congress of Vienna; and the popular Blackhaven Brides series, which is set in a fashionable English spa town frequented by the great and the bad of Regency society.
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