My Lord Rogue (9 page)

What else had
he’d been wrong about?
Who was
this
highly functional,
new improved
version of
Gillian
Chauncey
?
Simon
wanted to uncover
all of
her secrets
slowly
at first, and then in a frenzied rush
. One
by everlasting one
. But
now wasn’t the time
and if he wanted her to arrive at his townhouse unscathed, he’d better right his thoughts
.

He tapped the ceiling
with his cane
and
sank back into the cushions as
the
carriage
vaulted forward, regaining
its
normal
tempo
.

“
You said you and Lucien
were
partners in
every way
but one.
”

Her eyes narrowed. She
squirmed on her seat
,
his track of questioning
obviously disturbing her
.
Good. That meant he was getting closer to the truth.

“Did you love him?”

The intimate turn of the conversation
would have shocked a normal woman. But not Gillian
.
“Of course I loved Lucien,” she exclaimed
as if the hounds of Hades would maul her to death for vowing anything less
.
“
What would make you
believe
otherwise
?”

He was stepping over the line
and he knew it. Still, he
couldn’t help himself.
“
Were you
¯
intimate
?”
His
questions were
brutal and
personal
, but he
couldn’t bring
the
interrogation to an end
if his life depended on it
.

“This is not at all a proper topic of conversation.”
Gillian turned
her face
away
, focusing
her attention on something
— anything —
out
side
the
carriage
window. The distance she
strove
to put between them
settled over him like molten ash
.
The
carriage shifted
as he
moved to sit beside her
and
took her hand
in his
to keep
her
from
s
hy
ing
away
from him
.

His voice held a rasp of despair.
“Did you love Lucien?”

He waited for
what
dragged on
like eternity for
her to respond
.
His patience was rewarded when
ever so slowly, she
turned back to him
.
He
longed to
peruse her features
at his leisure
,
to learn
her hidden
secrets.
A twinge of guilt stabbed his heart, taunting
, accusing
him for
having
devilish
desires
. H
e fought
against
those
urges
, for one touch would surely
summon the end of him
.
And yet he couldn’t stop wondering what her sensual response would be. Had Lucien discovered it?

“Did you quiver
beneath Lucien
,” he
asked
,
his voice simmering with barely checked passion. He hated
his
ego,
the
demonic need to know
how far astray her feelings for him had gone
.

She inhaled
, the sound hypnotic, seductive in the darkness
, practically driving him over the edge
.
“No
t
in the way
you suggest
.”
Her
admittance scalded him, accused
him of being a cad.
He was.

“Gillian
.” He
moved closer and
lifted her veil
.
His sense
s
were on high alert, his entire body
attuned to hers,
more alive than it had been in years as he traced her
wet
tears with his fingers.
With their sensitive link finally broken, he knew the dam would follow.

“
Oh,
Simon.”
Gillian
shivered then
sank into his
welcom
ing
arms.

He
held her close,
breathing
in
her
rosewood perfume
, luxuriating in the feel of her silky hair against his c
hin
. She was fragrant, healthy
,
and alive
.
No comparison to the laudanum and medicinal scents he associated with his wife.
Her pulse beat strong, not weak and eerily uneven.
A dull ache
throbbed
in his chest
. He wanted her, needed to connect with her
as the reality of how different things could have been if Gillian hadn’t escaped the
gens d’arm
e
s
set in
. If he’d never had the chance to hold her again
—

“I am here, my love. I
will
always
be
here
.”

Her
sobs came out in a choking rush
,
as she clung to him, her nails digging into his arms
.
She
cried out
Lucien’s name
,
quieted, and then pummeled
him with her fists. He took
her anger, accepted each blow
, holding
on tight
,
comforting
,
sharing
her sorrow,
until
she quieted
, relaxing against him.

When he s
poke, the truth
shot
through him like a
musket ball
.
“He was a good man. He
did everything I ever requested
of
him
and more. So much more,” he said
.
Lucien had kept his word. He’d protected Gillian. Given her stability,
unconditional
love without
breaking her
spirit
.
As he
himself
would have most assuredly broken Gillian if she’d stayed and become his mistress.
He was who he was, no excuses, no more lies.

“Everything
?
” she
asked
,
her brows knitting together as she lifted
her face to meet his. Her
grief-stricken
eyes
impaled
him
with
a mix of strength and
hope,
a hope he couldn’t
reciprocate
. She
fel
t so right in his arms
, part of him, an extension of his soul
. Her half-parted lips begged to be kissed
to chase away the sorrow manifesting inside her
. Part of him was eager to
help her forget the horrors she’d experienced. Part of him wanted to
find out if he could draw a whimper from her
when he
pressed
his lips
against hers
and tasted her
sweet ambrosia
.

He gulped
, daring not to move should he
lose control
.
“You have no idea how difficult it has been
not
to
think of you in Lucien’s arms
.”

“Did you believe so little in my love for you, Simon?”

Hearing her say
the word love
combined with his name
stunned
and delighted
him
at the same time
. “Love?
How can
you
love
me
?” he asked, dumbfounded. “After—”

She placed her finger over his lips.
“You
are an honorable man. You
did what
you thought
was right for
me, for
both of us. You
are married
.
I know t
here c
an
never be a future for us. I understood
.” She
paused
.
“
Understand
.” She reached up and caressed his cheek. “There will never be a day I
won’t
love you.”

The iron restraints that had gripped him from the moment he’d watched Gillian marry Lucien
released
his
wretched
heart
.
Sensations he’d forgotten poured over him, dousing him with unruly fire.
He didn’t deserve Gillian’s love
— to be loved
.
He
was a man
of action, a man
who
did what needed to be done, no matter the consequences
to himself or anyone else
.
Nevertheless,
he longed
to believe her lies,
desired to be the man she claimed he was. Succumbing,
he
pulled her
into his arms
and hugged her
close
. He had but a few moments more to take
advantage of
their embrace
.
To hell with
the consequences
!

Enveloped in darkness,
t
hey
traveled
in silence, h
im holding her, stroking her arm,
giving in to
longed
for bliss.
Those
moments gave him hollow satisfaction.
Fate warred against them. He was bound to a woman who
fought
each day to survive to the next. Edwina
Danbury
had never complained
about
his frequent trips away from home
as a naval officer
,
or
the countless hours he spent
at the Admiralty Board circumventing diplomatic tides
.
His wife
applauded his efforts. In return,
he’d given
her constancy, affluence, protection and round
-
t
he
-
clock care.
The years had not been kind to Edwina. Perhaps she
languished
because
she loved him and
he
was unable to give her
his heart.
Arranged marriages were not loveless without reason.
A part of him knew her illness stemmed from the loss of
their
child. The guilt of their loss, Edwina’s refusal to accept
that a prospective child hadn’t change
d
their circumstances
, and her subsequent illness had taken
his wife
down a
miserable path, one that
allowed their marriage to blossom into
one of respect and
reserved friendship
.

Breathing in Gillian’s
lavender
and rose
scent, Simon closed his eyes, allowing himself to loosen his guard.
She
did this to him. She enabled him to truly feel alive, to sink into passion, to forget who he was, what he was, what he must do.

The carriage stopped, jolting
Simon
aware
.
With agonizing slowness, he
opened his eyes and
broke
their embrace
, seeking
to
regain
his composure.
She, in turn,
settled back
on the squabs
and
sought to straighten her
coiffure
.