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Authors: Jane Lark

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #Regency, #General

BOOK: The Dangerous Love of a Rogue
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When he climbed in beside her, she had pressed herself into the far corner of the small two-seater carriage, her gaze focused out the window.

The carriage lurched into motion a moment after the door shut.

There was nothing to see in the darkness of the cloudy night, but still Mary looked.

The ground he’d gained earlier had been lost.

“Why did they come? To play their games with Emily?” she said to the darkness. “Could you not have stopped them?”

He sighed.

She turned to face him, her voice growing in strength. “I was pleased to see you until you said they had come with you. How can you condone their behaviour?”

Her condemnation of them was condemnation of him, and she knew it. “Lord Brooke is not such a bad catch, he is remarkably wealthy.”

“But we both know he’s not thinking of marriage, is he?”

“If she is properly chaperoned, what does that matter? You never know, he might fall for her.” The last was a quip at his own expense, which of course she would not understand, as she did not believe he had fallen.

“But we both know that chaperones can be avoided.” Her pitch had soured “I suppose you’ve all played these games a hundred times.”

Drew turned to face her, one knee lifting onto the seat, his arm stretching across the squabs behind her. His body jolted with the damn pain from his rib. “So we are back to how many are we? Well, for your information, you are the first woman I have courted, and the first woman I have known who had any need of chaperones, and for all Peter may play around and act the fool, he’s never courted a virgin before either. Judge them how you like, but at least my friends are loyal. I caught yours gossiping about you…”

How did she have the power to make him feel like a belligerent child? Because he loved her. That was what love did. It made you weak and vulnerable. But he was not giving in yet, he was fighting for her.

Her gaze struck his in the lantern light of the carriage. “I suppose you frightened my friends into silence.”

“Do I frighten you, then?”

“Yes. Sometimes. Like now, when you feel threatened, and become angry with me.”

Her admission shocked him and his anger fled instantly.
Lord
. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to make you afraid of me.”

His hand lifted.

Without him even urging, she moved, rising and turning to sit sideways on his lap, her arms reaching about his neck as a little sob came from her throat.

Damn it. He gripped her chin and lifted her face so she looked at him. Tears sparkled on her cheeks as her long slender fingers slipped to his lapel. “How else do I make you feel?”

“Sad… I wonder if you will ever love me, or I will ever understand you, or if we can be happy.”

“I do love you,” he answered, his gaze dropping to her lips an instant before he kissed them.

Her arms came about his neck and she kissed him back, her tongue dancing with his.

He broke the kiss and met her gaze. Their lives were worlds apart. She could never walk into his but he could walk into hers. He should try. The onus to make their marriage work lay on him. “When you go to Pembroke’s house tomorrow, I’ll come too.”

If nothing else it would stop her family influencing her while he was not there.

“Do you think it wise? Papa is not very happy with you at the moment.”

“That is the reason I should go.” The familiar surge of love for her raced through his blood.

She smiled, then her fingers slipped into his hair and brought his mouth back to hers.

When the carriage pulled to a halt, they were only prevented from being thrown onto the floor by Drew bracing his feet hard and holding onto her.

He moved her from his lap as the hatch below the driver’s seat slid open. “We’re here m’lud.”

Drew freed the lock and pushed the door open. His hand slipped into his pocket as he climbed out seeking money for the driver.

He paid the man then held out his hand to help Mary descend.

He kept a hold of her hand as they crossed to the door. A night porter opened it when Drew knocked, and the light from the lantern in the hall spilled out onto Mary, illuminating her face.

Awe and emotion gripped him.

He could not quite believe she was here.

A lopsided smile titling his lips he bent and caught her up in his arms. She gripped his shoulders. “Andrew!”

“I omitted to do this before, didn’t I? It was remiss of me. A bridegroom should carry his wife across their threshold.”

The doorman grunted his amusement, stepping aside.

Damn the pain in his rib, despite Marlow and his bitter words and violence, Drew was going to make her happy. He would prove them wrong and make Mary love him more.

Chapter 21

Mary laughed, smiling at Andrew, looking into his eyes which were dark in the low light. He was a day late, but the gesture touched her heart. She could still not believe he’d come tonight, although she was unsure why he had. Yet even if he’d come only because Lord Brooke wished to chase after Emily, Andrew had sat with her, not his friends.

In the two seasons she’d spent in town she’d never seen him at such an event. He’d even eaten among her family. But then it had all gone wrong. She wished he’d not brought his friends to speak to her, then her father would not have become angry, and she wished his friends would leave Emily alone.

Yet Andrew was right, Emily would be safe, she was chaperoned – as long as she did not fall for Lord Brooke’s charm, as Mary had fallen for Andrew’s.

That charm flowed about her as he carried her upstairs.

When they’d played chess and dressed together today, she’d glimpsed how their marriage may be, and tonight she’d felt one of a couple. Now…

She watched his face as he carried her. His eyes reflected the light of the lanterns in the hall.

Her husband was a complex man. “You value your friends, don’t you?” she said, as they reached the landing.

He glanced at her. “I value them yes, they are like brothers.”

“How long have you known them?”

“Since school, we were boys together.” He withdrew a key from his pocket and opened the door, balancing her on his knee and his forearm.

“Kate, my sister-in-law’s, brother was John’s best friend at school.”

“Your brother’s man of business? I didn’t know he’d been Pembroke’s friend.” Andrew carried her in, over their real threshold. A maid must have been into the room. A single oil lamp had been left burning by the door.

“Kate played with John and Philip. I was too young.”

“What exactly are you saying?” He laughed, as he let her legs swing gently to the floor.

She faced him.

A tender smile pulled at his lips. It spoke of love. Was it a lie?

“Do you like my friends now, or are you thinking about liking them?”

“I am thinking about getting to know them and judging them for myself.”

“A suspended sentence, then.”

He could be fun when he wished to be, and sweet, and kind…and he’d no reason to be false now, he had her money…She did not understand him.

“And my judgement, Mary? Where do I stand?” His light brown eyes looked at her.

She turned away slipping off her shawl, setting some distance between them. She would not admit she loved him when she was not sure what he felt. “You are my husband…” She laid her shawl over the back of a chair and looked back. “Do you want me to pour you a drink?”

He still stood by the door, looking as though he tried to solve a puzzle. “That is a very wifely offer. Yes, I will have a drink.”

“Brandy?” she asked, as she walked to the decanters.

“Yes, please.”

She heard him remove his hat, gloves and then his evening coat. She did not look back.

His hands slipped about her waist and his lips kissed her shoulder. The decanter wobbled as she set it down.

“Do you want me to ring for some water for tea?” His breath touched her ear.

She turned, forcing him to step back as she held out his drink. “No, the maids will be in bed, I would not wish to wake them. I’m not thirsty.”

His gaze travelled over her expression as he took the glass. “Have I taken you from heaven Mary and brought you to hell, to live with me?”

Sometimes he said the strangest things, but the words proved that he was leagues deep. Her fingertips touched the dark purple bruise about his eye. “Does it hurt?”

“A little.” He took her hand from his face and drew her towards a chair, a roguish smile playing on his lips.

Once he’d set his drink down he sat and drew her down onto his lap. Then he reclaimed his drink and sipped from the glass.

She touched his bruised eye, again and then pressed a kiss beside it.

His smile broadened as he moved her hand to his jaw. “It hurts here too.”

She leaned to kiss his jaw. “Did Papa and John hurt you much when they hit you?”

“Now she asks…” His voice rang deep. “I’m sure you do not care if they did. I believe the word is comeuppance.”

“You were a day late in carrying me over the threshold. I am a couple of days late in asking if you were hurt. We’re even…”

He brushed strands of her hair back from her face, while he took another sip of brandy.

“You did not hit them…” She began unpicking the puzzle. Why had she not noticed that?

“That would have been unjust, don’t you think?” He looked down and stared into the amber liquid in his raised glass. “If I was your Papa, or your brother, I’d have punched me too.” Her gaze lifted again. “In fact if anyone took you from me now I would reap carnage just as they did.”

Her fingers pressed against his midriff, as she moved to get up.

“Ow! God.”

She stopped moving. “What is it?” Her palm still rested against his side.

“Your dear Papa, broke my rib, Mary.”

She slid off his lap and stood. “You did not say.”

He sipped his drink, before saying, “When was the moment to mention it? I can take a punch. I’m not complaining. I did seduce you, after all…” He watched her as he spoke, as though judging her response.

Her fingers clasped at her waist.

Deviltry flashed in his eyes as he drained his glass, then set it down. “I seduced you because I wanted you, Mary. I am guilty of that. I should have asked for your father’s consent, but we both know I would not have received it, so I planned to elope. I did plan it, from the first. They were right…But at some point along that path I fell in love with you, and I did not even lie to you and say I love you until I did.

“Yes, I urged you to choose me. But you knew that. I did not lie to you, and you came with me by choice…” He lifted his hand. “Come back, sit down, you were keeping me warm.”

“I’ll hurt your rib.”

“I’ll worry about my rib. Come on, sweetheart, sit and talk to me.”

“We are talking, but I do not think it’s what you wish to do.”

His smile tilted sideward, turning her stomach to fluid. “Ah, you got me. Come and give me a kiss, then.”

His presence pulled her physically. It was hopeless pretending she did not want to be with him; she loved him. She’d told Emily to learn from her mistakes, yet
she
had not learned from them. He’d just admitted seducing her, and she was letting him do it again.

Yet his words were true. He’d urged her to marry him from the start, and she had known he sought her money as well as her…

She longed for some control.

She did not know where she stood.

Who to believe.

Whether to trust…

How much of her heart to give…

How much of herself.

But she knew a way to take control of him.

Catching up her dress she raised it. His smile turned predatory as he realised what she meant to do. He shifted in his seat, so her knees could fit beside his hips, as she straddled him, her raised dress spilling about them.

“You can get rid of these for a start,” he said, catching a hold of her hand then tugging off her glove.

It felt very intimate, to sit astride him, as his fingers worked her gloves free, and she remembered the feel of his fingers inside her. She shivered at the memory.

He smiled slyly, a moment before slipping one of her fingers into his mouth, then he sucked it gently.

She did not wish to be submissive, this time. She did not want to be seduced. She would rather seduce him. She wished him to know he could not keep controlling her.

Pulling her finger from his lips she leaned forward and kissed him, gripping his nape, as he liked to do to her, dominating him. It felt like doling out exquisite justice.

She slipped the buttons of his waistcoat loose, freeing them quickly, and then she tugged his shirt from his waistband and slid her hands underneath over his skin.

He flinched.

She stopped, pulling away. She’d forgotten his broken rib.

He smiled. “Don’t stop, just be careful.”

“Let me see?” She pushed his waistcoat off his shoulders. He let her take it off, and his shirt too.

The dark purple, almost black, bruise, stained half his side. Her fingers ran over it.

“You should have asked me to bandage it for you.”

“You would not have done it at that inn. Not after your father and brother convinced you I am evil.” It was petulantly said.

“You’re not evil. But you do have a devil in you that likes to kick out, Andrew?” She met his gaze. He’d not fought back against them physically, he had not even fought against their accusations. But he had been angry with them and jabbed back at them with words.

He laughed. “Yes, I suppose. But perhaps that is because people hit out at me.” Then in a deeper tone, he said, “Enough talking.” His hand gripped her nape.

“Your rib, Andrew.”

“Darling, physical intimacy is the best painkiller ever. Forget my rib. I’m half naked beneath you…”

She shook her head, pulling away and rising, if she could not gain the upper hand in that way, she knew there was another. She had contemplated this when he’d used his mouth and teeth on her. It would completely claim him, as he’d claimed her and make it clear that she had the power to seduce him too.

If her marriage was to work, it would be with her as an equal, and she knew exactly how to make her husband pay attention. He would view her differently, hear her differently, if she took control of him physically.

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