Candice Hern (37 page)

He walked around the chairs where Penelope and Beatrice sat, and sank down on his haunches in front of Grace. Both women behind him began to speak, but Wilhelmina signaled for quiet. He ignored them all.

"Grace? My love?"

Her head jerked up from Wilhelmina's lap, and she gave a little gasp. Rochdale almost groaned aloud at the sight of her ravaged face. Her eyes were puffy and red, her skin pale, her cheeks wet with tears. This woman who prided herself on her cool composure in any situation had fallen apart. He had done this to her.

She shifted her weight and sat up to face him. Swiping an unsteady hand across her cheeks, she stared at him, desperation in her eyes, but said nothing.

"I have been to the mews," he said softly. "And now I understand. I don't suppose you are willing to forgive me for that unholy outburst. In fact, you'd probably be wise to send me packing, after what I've done. But please don't. I don't deserve any consideration from you, God knows, but please hear me out."

He reached out and took her trembling hand in his. He was encouraged that she allowed it, and hope flared in his wretched heart.

"I love you, Grace. I love you wildly and beyond thought or reason. And the force of that love scares me, for I have not allowed myself to feel this way for anyone in a very long time, and I haven't learned quite yet how to accept it unquestioningly, this love I feel for you. You called me a coward once, and you were so right. I never wanted to feel pain or disappointment or betrayal, so I closed myself off to all feeling. I was afraid of being hurt.

"When I heard by chance about your wager with Sheane to get me to marry you, I felt betrayed. I lashed out because I wanted to place all the hurt on you, coward that I am. I wanted to hate you so I wouldn't feel the pain of loving you. But I didn't know then what the wager had been about. I didn’t know it was to win back Serenity. That's why you made the wager, is it not? To win her back for me?"

She nodded her head, and wiped away tears.

"Oh, Grace. What a wonderfully bold and foolish thing to do." He kissed her hand and then, because it still trembled, he covered it with both his hands, and held it like a tiny wounded bird.

"And how typically thoughtful and generous and selfless. How could I have thought otherwise of you, my darling girl. I do love you. And I know you love me, so I hope you will forgive me for being such an idiot. You told me once that you loved all of me, the good and the bad. I hope that includes the stupid as well. Because not only do we love each other, Grace, but we need each other. Without you, my life is aimless and empty. Without me, your life is hopelessly earthbound. But together, we can fly. You were only just beginning to spread your new wings. Come fly with me, my love. Let us jump off the edge of the unknown together. Let us be wild, unprincipled adventurers together, and make love every night until we can barely move. Will you do that with me, Grace? Will you marry me after all?"

She reached out shakily, and Rochdale leaned forward and lifted her to her feet and into his arms. He had not noticed that the other women had moved. All four of them now stood to the side, and out of the corner of his eye he saw each of them wiping away tears.

"Yes," Grace whispered against his shoulder. "Yes, I'll still marry you." She lifted her head, wiped a hand across her face, and said, "But don't you dare scare me like that again! We have to trust each other, John. Completely."

"You are right, my love. But this business of loving and trusting is new to me. I helped you to understand passion. You must help me to understand trust. And courage. Your courage is breathtaking. And I am still bound in cowardice. Only see what I did tonight."

"It took a great deal of courage to say all you have said in front of my friends."

"They had witnessed my cruelty. They may as well witness my apology and declaration of love. They will hold me to it, I suspect."

"Indeed, we will, my lord," Wilhelmina said.

Rochdale looked over Grace's shoulder and smiled at the duchess. "You have devoted and loyal friends, my love."

"The very best friends in the world." She kept her arms around his neck, holding him close as though afraid to let go. He was quite content to oblige. "I am surprised they did not pull you limb from limb when you returned."

"So am I." He looked again over her shoulder at each of them and mouthed a silent, "Thank you."

"Now," he said, "perhaps we can forget all this unpleasantness and move on. You spent the first part of your life with the bishop being good. Spend the rest of your life with me, Grace, being bad."

And there, in front of all the Merry Widows, Grace and Rochdale kissed each other with a passion so deep and so hot, their entwined hearts soaring so high with love and desire, they almost forgot the other four women were in the room.

Until the sound of applause and laughter brought them back to earth.

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The following titles are available at most ebook retailers:

The Merry Widows:

IN THE THRILL OF THE NIGHT

JUST ONE OF THOSE FLINGS

The Ladies' Fashionable Cabinet:

ONCE A DREAMER

ONCE A SCONDREL

ONCE A GENTLEMAN

THE BRIDE SALE

HER SCANDALOUS AFFAIR

Here's an excerpt from IN THE THRILL OF THE NIGHT:

"You want me to help you find a lover?"

Put so bluntly, it did sound rather ridiculous. Marianne suddenly felt very foolish for even mentioning the idea. What had possessed her to do such a thing? She still could hardly believe she'd decided on this course. But in her mind's eye she had seen Penelope's glowing face on one side and Lavinia's dark martyrdom on the other. There was no question about which of the two faces she wanted to wear.

"Forgive me, Adam. I should not have asked. I just thought ..."

What had she thought? That he'd do exactly what he teased her about? That he would step in and do the job, providing her with "all the pleasure she could possibly imagine?" She was quite sure he could have followed through on such a promise. One had only to look in those green eyes to know it. She was almost glad his betrothal precluded such an arrangement. He knew her well enough to realize she would never seek intimacy with another woman's man.

"You thought I was your friend and would help you, as friends do. So, how can I help you?"

She was not entirely sure. But since the last meeting of the Fund trustees, she realized she was not as experienced in the bedroom as she had thought. She did not even know what she did not know. And that was what excited her about this whole business. What would it be like to be physically intimate with a man again, intimate in ways she could not even imagine? It sometimes thrilled her to think of it, but just as often frightened her.

"Well." How to begin? How to say what she wanted to say without dying of mortification? "You see, David is the only man I ... well, you know. I never ..." She felt her cheeks flame with embarrassment. She could not believe she was having this conversation. "Oh, Adam, I just don't know how to go about this. I don't know who would be a good ... who would know how ..." She pounded a fist against the chair arm. "Damn it all, I don't know anything. I don't know how to find the right man."

Adam shook his head. "If you expect me to tell you which man would make the best lover, then you're out, Marianne. I'm sorry, but that is asking too much. How should I know something like that? You'd be better off asking another woman." He grinned. "The duchess, for example."

She had thought about talking to Wilhelmina, but became too tongue-tied to do so. And yet here she was, having just such a conversation with Adam.

"You are right. I shouldn't be bothering you. It's just ... well, it's not all about what a man does in the bedroom."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Is it not? I thought that was the whole point."

"Yes, but I also need a man who will be discreet. I don't want my name bandied about at the clubs or, God forbid, mentioned in the betting books. I would like my privacy respected."

"A gentleman of honor, then," he said. "I would expect nothing less. And what else?"

"I do not want a man with an eye to marriage, or an eye on my fortune. It must be someone willing to accept me on my own terms."

"A physical relationship only?"

"For the most part. No entanglements."

"A man of the world, one who covets your body but not your fortune." His hooded gaze followed the line of her hips and thighs, sending a sudden flush of heat through her veins. "That should not be difficult. And what else?"

Damn the man for looking at her like that. She had become much more aware lately of the words and looks and touches that passed between men and women. She had known Adam most of her life, knew him to be a seducer of women, but he had never turned those bedroom eyes on her in such a provocative way.

Or had she just never noticed?

She gathered her composure and smiled at his feigned insolence. "Well, it would be nice if he was handsome, of course."

He laughed. "Of course. A handsome gentleman of honor with some skill between the sheets who is content with an uncomplicated affair. The field narrows. And what else? A man of fashion?"

"I do not think that is important. He should be presentable and clean, naturally, but I doubt a man overly concerned with his wardrobe would be an appropriate candidate."

"Quite right. No pinks of the
ton
. Too absorbed in themselves to do right by a woman. What about fortune?"

"That should not be a consideration."

"And age?"

"Hmm. I had not thought of it. I suppose it would not serve the purpose for him to be in his dotage."

"Certainly not. The fellow must be able to perform, after all. And an old roué would not suit you." He gave an exaggerated shudder. "So, we are looking for a gentleman who is handsome, discreet, and not given to dandified ways, who offers no entanglements, and is still vigorous enough to satisfy a woman's needs. Have I got it right so far?"

She grinned and realized that he had put her entirely at ease by making a game of the whole business. "Yes, that sounds about right to me. And also —"

"Egad, there's more? My dear, if you become too particular in your tastes, you risk narrowing the field to the point where there is no man left standing."

"But, Adam, this hypothetical man and I will spend a great deal of time together, and not just in the bedroom. There ought to be more than just ...
that
, shouldn't there? I would like a man I can talk to, a man who has a way with women, a man I can enjoy being with."

A man like you
.

"A gentleman with both conversation and charm." She nodded. "Yes, that's it."

"A tall order, my dear. And, of course, none of it matters if the chap is not also a skillful lovemaker. Correct?"

"Yes, I suppose that's true. Oh, Adam, I know it sounds foolish and you are merely teasing me, but I just want ..."

She could not admit it aloud, not to Adam, but she wanted that excitement and passion Penelope talked about. She wanted what her friends had experienced. Just once in her life.

* * *

Adam knew what she wanted, probably better than she did. And yet, out of sheer perversity, he seemed determined she should not have it. What man could possibly be worthy of her? And how could any man hope to measure up to David Nesbitt, who was no doubt as talented and skillful in the bedroom as he was at everything else he did?

Poor Marianne was doomed to disappointment.

Adam did not lack confidence in his own sexual prowess, and thought he just might be able to best the memory of David in that particular arena. Now that it was impossible to put that confidence to the test, he was strangely loath to see any other man make the attempt.

"All teasing aside," she said, "would you be willing to advise me on whether certain men would ... meet my needs?"

"You have someone in mind?"

"Actually, I have a list."

"Good God, a list? Damnation, Marianne, this will require more wine. Do you by chance have another bottle at hand?"

"You know where to find it."

He did indeed. She still kept it in the deep bottom drawer of the kneehole desk in the corner, where David had always kept a ready supply. Adam retrieved a bottle and uncorked it. Without bothering to decant it — this business of a list of potential lovers could not wait for such niceties — he carried the bottle with him and set it on the candlestand between them. He topped off her glass before refilling his own.

After taking a restorative swallow of claret, he said, "You have a list."

She reached for the book she'd tucked beside the seat cushion and retrieved a folded sheet of paper from between the pages. "I jotted down a few names. What do you think of Lord Peter Bentham?"

Devil take it, he was going to have to think fast. "Bentham? Younger son of Worthing? Big, strapping chap with yellow hair?"

"Yes, that's him."

"I would steer clear of that one if I were you."

"Why?"

"I've heard the fellow has a hot temper and a violent streak."

"Lord Peter? I can hardly believe it. He seems like such a kind gentleman."

"Appearances can be deceiving. Most fellows are on their best behavior in public, especially around females. But one hears talk in the clubs. I would be uneasy if I thought you were involved with a man like Bentham. For my peace of mind, may we cross him off the list?"

"All right." Her voice was tinged with disappointment. Had she really been attracted to that great hulking oaf?

"Who's next?"

"Sir Dudley Wainfleet."

He chuckled softly. "You'll have no success there, my dear."

"Why not?"

"Just between you and me, the man is not particularly interested in women."

Her eyes widened. "You mean ..."

"Precisely. Cross him off. Who's next?"