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Authors: Kate Pearce

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not attend to the matter soon.”

“You will manage this by yourself?”

He smoothed a hand over his groin, curving her fingers around his hard flesh. “I’ll

decide that when you have gone.”

Her innate curiosity bubbled over. “How?”

“Dammit, Antonia, how old are you? Do you know nothing of what goes on

between a man and a woman?”

“Twenty-six, but you have not answered my question.”

He sighed. “What the hell was I thinking when I offered you my services?”

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Antonia’s Bargain

She ripped her hand out from under his. “I am not a child. You promised to be

honest.” She headed for the door. “If you will not be frank with me about a man’s true

desires then there is no point in continuing this charade. Good night, my lord.”

“If you wish to stay and watch me pleasure myself, you may.”

Antonia stopped, her hand flat on the door panel and took a deep breath. Did she?

She paused as she heard the creak of Gideon settling into a chair, the soft brush of

disturbed cloth, the faint scent and sound of the wet slickness of his desire. She slowly

turned around.

His breeches were open, his left hand wrapped around the huge shaft of his cock.

He used his right hand to slide down his foreskin to reveal the glistening purple tip.

Antonia bit her lip as a drop of liquid slid down the side of his heated flesh and came to

rest on his hand.

He turned from his contemplation of his shaft and looked up at her. “Have you

ever seen an erect cock before?”

She trembled as a long-buried memory resurfaced to torment her. She’d been too

bold and allowed her anger to lead her into a situation she had no ability to control.

With a gasp she grabbed the handle, wrenched open the door and ran.

37

Kate Pearce

Chapter Three

Antonia squinted at the ragged edge of the embroidered rose. She lacked

concentration and her needlework, never her finest accomplishment, suffered. If her

Aunt Flora saw the mess she’d made of the cushion cover she was supposed to be

sewing, she would insist Antonia pull out the stitches and start again.

“Did you hear me, dear?”

She hastily covered her work and looked up to see her aunt staring at her.

“I said that we will be attending the Markhams’ ball this evening. It is the first large

ball of the season. Charles particularly wants you to make a good impression on the

Markhams’ eldest son, Douglas.”

“I will do my best, Aunt.” Antonia tried to smile back as her aunt frowned over her

spectacles. Flora had been married to Antonia’s deceased uncle and now kept house for

her son.

“You do not seem very excited at the prospect of entering the
ton
, my dear.”

Antonia sighed. “At my age, I feel rather too old to be prancing around like a

debutante. I would much rather stay at home and read a good book.”

“La, Antonia, how can you say that?” Her cousin Deborah looked amused. “I can’t

wait to be introduced to all those fascinating, eligible men.”

“Deborah, that is exactly why your brother and I feel that you are far too young to

be out,” said Flora. “Your manners and opinions are too high-spirited for a young lady

of good family.”

“I was only funning, Mama. Antonia knows that.”

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Antonia’s Bargain

Antonia winked at her fifteen-year-old cousin. They shared a love of open spaces

and an impatience with London society that mystified the other members of the family.

In an attempt to divert Flora’s attention from Deb, Antonia spoke up.

“I promise to do my best to engage the interest of Mr. Douglas Markham, and to

enjoy myself. Is that sufficient?”

Flora settled back into her chair and continued with her sewing. Antonia stared out

of the window which faced the windswept square. Would Gideon Harcourt be among

the guests invited to the Markhams’ ball? Would she see him in his element?

Surrounded by his peers, a particular lady hanging on his arm?

“Ouch!”

She rubbed her finger where she’d jabbed herself with the needle. She hadn’t

thought to ask Gideon if he was married. What if he had a wife? Was she taking him

away from another woman? It was not as if she intended to become his mistress or

anything. She just needed his expertise. Antonia dropped her needlework into her

sewing basket and got to her feet.

Flora’s head jerked up. “Where are you going, dear?”

Antonia held up her still bleeding finger. “I need to deal with this cut before I stain

my work. I’ll just go and find Gwen.”

In the safety of her bedroom she rang for her maid and then sat down at her small

desk. After nibbling on the end of her quill pen for a considerable time, she wrote.

“Dear G., are you married? Yours, respectfully, A.”

She frowned down at her words. Was she too abrupt? What else was there to say?

After her panicked retreat from Madame Desiree’s the previous week, she’d thought

long and hard about returning. The sight of Gideon’s cock had dredged up a halfforgotten childhood memory of her mother seeking sanctuary from her husband in

Antonia’s bed. She had claimed Antonia was sick and needed her.

39

Kate Pearce

When her drunken father stormed in, Antonia had tried to hide. She had ended up

trapped against the wall while her father ripped open his breeches, held her mother

facedown on the bed and had her anyway.

Her grip tightened on the quill pen and she forced the hateful images away. She

had two more nights until she was due to meet Gideon again. If he had a wife, it gave

her a perfect excuse to end matters between them. Surely he would understand.

Gwen appeared, carrying a roll of linen and a jar of ointment. Her thick gray hair

was braided tightly around her head, her mouth permanently turned down at the

corners.

“I heard you cut yourself, bach. Let me bind it for you.”

Antonia held up her finger. “It was only a little prick; there is no need to…”

She allowed Gwen to fuss over her for a minute before returning to her desk. She

wrote Madame Desiree’s address and the room number on the note and sealed it with

wax. “I need this delivered as soon as possible.”

Gwen sniffed. “Have you become so high-and-mighty living in London that you’ve

forgotten how to say please and thank you? Why not give it to the butler? He will see to

it soon enough.”

“I don’t want anyone in the house to know, that’s why I am asking you, please.”

Gwen took the note and stuffed it in the pocket of her apron. Her Welsh accent

always thickened when she scolded Antonia. “I hope you know what you are doing,

child. I’m not going to explain to your family if you turn up missing.”

“It’s only a note. I’m not planning on eloping or anything.” Antonia hoped she

sounded more confident than she felt. Gwen was no fool. “I’m just asking for advice.”

Gwen mumbled something under her breath as she opened Antonia’s wardrobe

and retrieved a pale pink dress. “Mrs. Callender says you are to wear this tonight.”

“That dress drains all the color out of my skin,” Antonia grumbled. “Why did Flora

have to pick that one?”

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Antonia’s Bargain

“Perhaps she doesn’t wish you to look your best. I think your dear aunt wants you

to marry her brother, Thomas.”

Antonia shuddered. “Thomas Quinn is twenty years older than me, he wears a

corset and his false teeth clack like castanets when he laughs.”

“Be that as it may, but he would surely enjoy your fortune.”

Antonia stared at herself in the mirror. Of course, now she was an heiress, most

men would probably find her attractive. Was being married for her money a worse fate

than being married for her looks? She thought about the freedom Gideon offered her

and how disappointed she would be if he turned out to be married. At some basic

intimate level, he understood her need to explore that which frightened her. Was it

possible that his instruction could help her to overcome her fears and have a normal

marriage?

She leaned back as Gwen coaxed her short hair into curls and threaded a pink

ribbon through them. Tonight would be but the first of many such balls, parties and

receptions she would be required to attend. It was hard to remember her duty to her

family when her heart dreaded the very thought of a marriage. Arranged marriages

were the norm but they seldom resulted in love. Her parents had disliked each other on

sight yet her father had wanted an heir and insisted on bedding a woman who didn’t

want him near her.

Her father’s rages and her mother’s shrieking defiance echoed in Antonia’s mind.

Her childhood was scarred with the pain of their battles and the pathetic graves of her

many siblings. All in pursuit of a male heir. Her fingernails dug into her palms. She

didn’t want that. Only the thought of Gideon Harcourt kept her from running back

home to Wales—and her desperate plan to find a husband willing to leave her alone in

return for the money she brought him.

Men were fickle creatures. Her father’s promises to her mother had meant nothing.

Antonia took a deep steadying breath. If she wished to avoid a marriage that made her

a slave to her husband’s dynastic ambitions, she had to keep her wits about her and try

41

Kate Pearce

and gain every possible advantage from Gideon. He was offering her the opportunity to

observe the male of the species at close quarters. Surely that would be enough to stop

her from making a terrible mistake?

Gideon spotted Antonia Maxwell in the crowded ballroom. Her height and her

indifferent expression made her stand out amongst the crowds of overdressed young

women and their chaperones. Not many women had the perfect bone structure to carry

off the shorter more daring hairstyles but Antonia did. He concealed a smile as her gaze

wandered around the room. Was she hoping to catch sight of him? He had no intention

of advertising his presence. Better that she believed he was in ignorance of her place in

society and the rumors that had already sprung up in the clubs as to her fortune.

He regarded her critically. The pale pink dress did nothing to enhance her subtle

beauty. Her shoulders were narrow and her breasts small. The tapered satin skirt

concealed the length of her legs and made her look too thin. Gideon frowned. She

looked more comfortable in her breeches than in a gown. He knew Antonia had money,

so why was she dressed like a poor relation?

Perhaps she was attempting to scare off her suitors. She had intimated as much to

him at their last meeting. Betting in the clubs indicated that her cousin Charles,

reluctant to lose her wealth, intended to marry her to one of his own family or close

political cronies. No wonder the poor girl looked so harried.

He hesitated and turned for one last look. It was obvious that she didn’t fit into the

ordered world of the
ton
.
He’d always had Gervase to share his adventures with and a

family name that allowed them to be “different”. What did Antonia have? A fortune

and a family shattered by unsubstantiated rumors of infidelity, madness and worse.

Perhaps that was why he felt such a deep kinship with her.

Gideon made his way back to the entrance of the ballroom. He’d seen enough to

satisfy his curiosity and assure himself that she was a lady. After retrieving his hat and

cloak, he left the sealed note with one of the servants and asked him to deliver it to

42

Antonia’s Bargain

Antonia. Her anxious question as to his marital status intrigued him. Was she

considering him as a candidate for marriage or worried that she might be about to

consort with an adulterer? Both scenarios amused him greatly. His short note assured

her that he was a widower and that he was looking forward to their rendezvous. He

hadn’t signed it. She would know who he was.

Without a backward glance he left the luxurious townhouse and headed for his

club. After an evening spent fending off the fortune hunters of the
ton
, he imagined

Antonia would be very pleased to see him in two nights’ time.

43

Kate Pearce

Chapter Four

“You came back then.”

Gideon’s languid voice made Antonia jump as she carefully closed the door behind

her.

“Of course I did.”

“Strange, I thought I might have scared you away last time. Do you normally leave

your companions at a run?”

She forced herself to look at him. “I admit I was a little intimidated. Like all young

ladies of a certain class, I have been kept in lamentable ignorance. Your…” She waved

her hand at his groin.

“My cock? Don’t be missish, my dear. Call it what it is.”

“Your cock, then. It was much more than I expected.”

He sat in a chair by the fire, one elegant booted foot propped up on the hearth. His

black waistcoat was embroidered with jet beads and silver thread which glinted in the

firelight.

“Bigger?”

Antonia shrugged. “Just more.”

He frowned as he ran his hand over the front of his breeches. “You looked terrified

when you saw my cock. Are you sure you are a virgin?”

“Yes.” She stiffened as he got to his feet and sauntered across to her. She should

have realized very little escaped him.

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